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Who wouldn't be suspicious? Sex and my mother were like cars for geese. She didn't know what sex was, where it came from, or that it was in anyway related to her body. Sex was a sin, end of conversation.Orgasms were a very different fish. I'd hear her screaming every other day or night, projecting all the usual uppercase, extended vowels, regardless if she were alone or with some guy who had talked his way upstairs into her bedroom. (I slept in the living room.) If a man could speak an intelligible sentence she'd spread her legs, which is not as welcoming as it sounds. It kept away a lot of drunks. My mom is more innocent than angels and more fucked than Satan's bride.Yes, yes, I digress and digress again. Get use to it. For such a dumb person, mom is amazingly complex. I didn't realize her true intelligence, though, until she told me one thing on that dull, Sunday afternoon."Charlie, you must think your mother is the dumbest girl in the world." She said, speaking in her usual half. " Can I get some candy?" the girl whined. "You promised." When we get home," her mother said, flicking the reins without much effect as the lead mule avoided a muddy pothole.It was fully two hours later when the Williams family crested the last hill. At the top of the gentle rise, Mrs. Williams stopped to give the team a rest and let her older son look at the slumbering countryside. Long shadows hid their farmhouse and reached across both tracks of the worn and rutted road."Looks the same, Ma, pretty much," Robert said."Been some changes," his mother said with a sigh, digging out a coin for the toll gate keeper. "Most of the fences are gone, some of the outbuildings, too."Seth held his tongue, tempted to tell his brother about the Rebel scout who had buried his weapon right at this spot, the Sharps carbine that now rested deep in a corner closet. He took a deep breath as his mother released the wooden brake and clucked at the mules. At the toll gate, the smiling man waved them through.
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