43.

Other than the times that he had felt disappointed at something, I had never seen Eugene so pale and teary-eyed. He was slumped on the chair when I arrived at their big house full of sympathizers and well-wishers. Some bouncers were just outside the door, fencing away the press with their sizes. I was the only one putting on colors due to the fact that I had come directly from school. Eugene was surrounded by many people, especially adults wearing the mournful color, black. His mother had just died, his would I feel if someone I was very familiar with died so suddenly? Someone like Aunt Layla or Mrs. Carter. I would be so sad and angry, Sad and mad I thought. I wouldn’t even allow so many people to be around me, saying all sorts of odd things to my hearing. It wouldn’t do me any good, not in the slightest. I’d rather be on my own.

I approached the crowd that had gathered around Eugene and tried to wriggle myself through.

“Excuse me,” I said to one bosomy woman who was actually about t