First Person Plural

Author:Andrew W.M. Beierle
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2008-06-24T15:22:00+00:00

"Exactly what is it you intend to do about these feelings, Owen?" she asked, finally.

"Do?"

"Yes, dear, do. Do you intend to ... pursue them? If you haven't already?"

My father looked at my mother as if she had just opened Pandora's box.

"Well, naturally, I'd like to meet someone ... have a relationship," Isaid.

"A relationship?" she said, as if I had suggested I wanted to give birth. It seemed that implausible to her. "A relationship."

"Yes, Mom. With another man."

Her lower lip curled down at that, like a rose withering in time-lapse photography.

"I'm not an idiot, Owen. I understand it would be with another man."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"And do you expect Porter to ... participate in this `relationship'?"

"To the extent that he has to, yes. Not in an emotional sense. But physically. We share ..."

"Owen!" my father said. "That's quite enough. Neither your mother nor I need an anatomy lesson at this point. We're well aware of the way in which you boys are constructed."

My mother's complexion had turned doughy. It was as if instead of merely alluding to our penis, I had flopped it out onto the table next to the ornate sushi sampler we had ordered. A more alert maitre d' might have wrapped her in a warm blanket and dialed 911.

"I don't understand this, Owen," my mother said. "I don't see how this is possible."

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