MOMMA WANTS TO KNOW if I'm in some kind of trouble. "There's been somebody here to see you. A white man . . . maybe a cop?" I want to know how she knows, but that would give away I'm worried.
"Ain't nothing, Momma. Some honky from the government asking what kind of postman I'll make. I'm going to start bringing home money, I mean it, and soon!"
She's silent in that way I know she knows I'm lying. But she also knows I can handle it. And I'll probably do better not to get her into it. This makes her sad.
Seems I go from one interrogation to another these days. The Man keeps showing up, then Momma gets in on the act. It must have been the stinky cigars that gave him away.
I would never hurt Carol. But now that it's been almost a month they can't find her I'm starting to worry if she's going to be okay, after all. I'd never hurt Carol, but a half-assed flatfoot's got me lying to my mother. The world gets a little uglier almost every day.