Both pretending. Unenthusiastic partners, the two of them, in this tired old dance.
“School was fine,” Laila said. “Did you learn anything?” “The usual.”
“Did you eat?” “I did.” “Good.” Mammy raised her head again, toward the window.
She winced and her eyelids fluttered. The right side of her face was red, and the hair on that side had flattened.
I have a headache.” “Should I fetch you some aspirin?Mammy massaged her temples.
Maybe later. Is your father home?” “It's only three.” “Oh. Right. You said that already.
Mammy yawned.I was dreaming just now,” she said, her voice only a bit louder than the rustle of her nightgown against the sheets.
Just now, before you came in. But I can't remember it now. Does that happen to you?
It happens to everybody, Mammy. Strangest thing. I should tell you that while you were dreaming, a boy shot piss out of a water gun on my hair.
Shot what? What was that? I'm sorry.” “Piss. Urine.
That's... that's terrible. God I'm sorry. Poor you. I'll have a talk with him first thing in the morning.
Or maybe with his mother. Yes, that would be better, I think.” “I haven't told you who it was.
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