Chapter 82

“You need anything?” Mama asked. She was dressed in a nightgown and a bathrobe and looked like she was a hundred years old. Her voice was full of something I couldn’t quite grasp. Anger? Despair? Exhaustion?

I struggled to get my shirt off. Mama grabbed hold of it, pulled it up and over my shoulders. The twisting of my arms as I lifted them made my chest seize up with fresh agony.

“You gon’ take a shower?”

I nodded.

“You take your pills?”

I nodded again.

“Why don’t you take tomorrow off,” she suggested.

“I’ve already missed too many days, Mama,” I said.

“You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell.”

“You hungry?”

“No.”

“You’ll feel better if you eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

She put a hand to her throat, looking at me with cautious but tired eyes. “You need help taking a shower?” she asked.

“You’d have to look at my penis.”

“Why does every conversation have to involve your little penis? Must you always wave it in our faces?”