|
Chapter 3
That
evening, they took both Victoria and Clark home with them. There, they met
the famous “Mama,” and true to their word, she was the whitest blonde Clark had ever seen. She was paler, in
fact than his albino-colored neighbor. But rather than looking washed-out as
they had so uncharitably described her, she had delicate porcelain skin and
lovely silken white hair.
James told them that it was never established when her hair had turned from
blonde to gray, since it never changed shades at all. Victoria believed it. Looking at that
beautiful lady, no one could guess her age, but everyone could easily
recognize that she was a woman of stature.
After the delicious meal, James and Jamie took Clark for a walk, and eventually, they
ended up back at the house. Mom had left shortly before them, claiming that she
had much to do at home. Clark
marveled as they entered his front door that he would never have known that
within walking distance of his home there lived a family like that. They were
lovely—truly good and kind.
Later, Clark said, “I wanted to spend time with
them and never return to the ordinary world of my life again. However, as I
saw them chatting with my mother, I discovered something that I had never
quite known about her—my mother was a classy woman, too. When they left, I
found myself staring at her.”
“Que te pasa, hijo mio?”
Clark impatiently mumbled, “English,
Mom—this is important.” Smiling, she had said, “Okay, then English it is.
What’s your problem?” Laughing at her “Godfather” tone, he said, “You fit in
so well with those people. You’re really classy, Mom. I’m proud of you.” She
ruffled her son’s hair and said, “Honey, anyone with self-respect and decency
can fit in well with good people—poor or rich.” Then, together, they chanted,
“Rosanna and Sally taught me that.” Laughing at his mocking tone, Mom said,
“But it’s true. Just about everything good I know, Rosanna’s family taught
me. I miss them, you know.” Nodding, he admitted, “I know.”
Then, Clark was hit with a revelation, and he
suddenly saw what his mom would be experiencing in just a few short years.
She had given her whole life to him, and she had nothing beyond that. When he
was gone, she would be alone.
“Don’t close the door on love, Mom, okay? You may not have Rosanna, but you
shouldn’t be alone, either. You should have someone.” Then, lowering her head
to his, she said, “Alright, Son. But I’m scared—I don’t want to be hurt. It’s
very hard.”
Smiling, Clark said, “I would think so, if you
waited this long to try again.” Her dimples appeared, but she didn’t smile.
That was when Clark felt as if he needed to do
something—and quickly. The feeling faded, however, with all the bustle of the
next few days, and it would only be after his mom began dating that Clark would revisit the issue.
The next day, his friends arrived at the school in the afternoon, ready to
take him home. They said that they wanted to talk with his mother. Smiling, Clark said, “Oh, you’re in for a
treat—she’s making arroz con pollo.”
Laughing, the two said, “Your Spanish is so good! We can’t believe you’re a white
kid.” Smiling, he said, “Well, you’re both half white, too, and no one would
know it, so we’re even.” They liked his impudent smile, particularly when it
appeared in such a passive, serious face. He was going to be a very fun
project.
|