of her society friends sometimes. She would harp on it and badger her so much, my mother would finally agree.
"What kind of a date was it where she had to go meet the guy somewhere anyway, huh?" he
demanded, his eyes beginning to bum with hot tears. "Why couldn't he just come here and pick her up? Don't people go out on dates like that anymore?" he asked me. "Maybe Aunt Charlotte was afraid they would see me and be frightened off.
"It was the same sort of thing the night she was killed." he said. "Why did she have to go out that night?"
He wiped a fugitive tear from his cheek quickly."I'll write it on a piece of paper for the magic box," he said, and took a deep breath. "But I don't think there's enough magic even in that box."
He smiled.
"I keep her alive in my own magic box, but she's alive in so many ways. See those rose bushes over there?"
I looked and nodded.
"She planted those bushes. They're her roses and when they come up, they remind me of her. I think of them as waiting for her to prune them, nurture them, Sometimes, I see a shadow move or hear a footstep in the hallway and expect her to come walking into my room, her smile beaming at me, her voice light and full of laughter.
"You think of me as full of self-pity, but it was difficult to be that way with my mother. She just refused to let gray skies over our heads. If anything made us sad even for an instant, we were to close our eyes and think of blue, 'There she would cry. 'It's beautiful now. Isn't it, Evan?'
"I felt obligated to make her happy and agree. You know what I mean?"
"Yes." I said. "Daddy was like that."
"Mm. Maybe that's what drew them together. I wonder what their first date was like," he thought aloud and then looked down at his hands in his lap, lowering his head like some flag of defeat.
"I'd like to see how someone goes on a date over the Internet," I said to help move him from his terrible sorrow.
He raised his eyes to me quickly. "Really?"
"I don't know as much as other people my age do about computers. I started the course this year, but I've got a lot to learn yet."
"It's easy," he said. "Aunt Charlotte thinks it's rocket science, but she doesn't even know how to work the microwave oven. She's never had to do much for herself. I'll show you most of it in a few hours," he promised, permitting excitement to enter his voice.
"I'd like that. Evan. Thanks.' He smiled coyly.
"What?" I asked.
"I'll show you one of my computer dates, but you've got to share your date, too. You've got to tell me about it, okay?"
"Sure," I said.
It seemed innocent enough.
But I didn't know what he meant, how much he really wanted from me. Despite all his electronic relationships and connections, he was really very lonely. It showed in his shadowed eyes.
And then I thought, maybe Charlotte wasn't so wrong. Maybe she expected I would fill in some of the empty places that Evan's mother once occupied for him. It wasn't a bad thing to want for him. I thought. Perhaps she did care about him and feel terribly sorry for him. Who could blame her for bringing us into her home if that was truly the reason? It made me feel bad for doubting her or distrusting her.
But then I thought again about the lesson in the allegory of Plato's Cave: Things are not always what they seem to be. Wait, wait for the last bit of darkness and shadow to fall victim to the light, and then look again, think again, feel again.
Then you will know what is true and what is not.
7
Heart of the Angel
I had no idea how much time I had spent in Evan's room watching him work his computer and learning about it. I couldn't help but be fascinated by the exchanges going on between the boys and Girls he and I watched in the so-called dating room.
"I used to date this girl, too." he told me. "Her screen name is Dreamluv. She didn't change her dating room password so I can eavesdrop."
He looked at me and smiled.
"I think she wants me to listen in. It's her way of teasing me. She thinks it bothers me. I guess.
"What kind of a date was it where she had to go meet the guy somewhere anyway, huh?" he
demanded, his eyes beginning to bum with hot tears. "Why couldn't he just come here and pick her up? Don't people go out on dates like that anymore?" he asked me. "Maybe Aunt Charlotte was afraid they would see me and be frightened off.
"It was the same sort of thing the night she was killed." he said. "Why did she have to go out that night?"
He wiped a fugitive tear from his cheek quickly."I'll write it on a piece of paper for the magic box," he said, and took a deep breath. "But I don't think there's enough magic even in that box."
He smiled.
"I keep her alive in my own magic box, but she's alive in so many ways. See those rose bushes over there?"
I looked and nodded.
"She planted those bushes. They're her roses and when they come up, they remind me of her. I think of them as waiting for her to prune them, nurture them, Sometimes, I see a shadow move or hear a footstep in the hallway and expect her to come walking into my room, her smile beaming at me, her voice light and full of laughter.
"You think of me as full of self-pity, but it was difficult to be that way with my mother. She just refused to let gray skies over our heads. If anything made us sad even for an instant, we were to close our eyes and think of blue, 'There she would cry. 'It's beautiful now. Isn't it, Evan?'
"I felt obligated to make her happy and agree. You know what I mean?"
"Yes." I said. "Daddy was like that."
"Mm. Maybe that's what drew them together. I wonder what their first date was like," he thought aloud and then looked down at his hands in his lap, lowering his head like some flag of defeat.
"I'd like to see how someone goes on a date over the Internet," I said to help move him from his terrible sorrow.
He raised his eyes to me quickly. "Really?"
"I don't know as much as other people my age do about computers. I started the course this year, but I've got a lot to learn yet."
"It's easy," he said. "Aunt Charlotte thinks it's rocket science, but she doesn't even know how to work the microwave oven. She's never had to do much for herself. I'll show you most of it in a few hours," he promised, permitting excitement to enter his voice.
"I'd like that. Evan. Thanks.' He smiled coyly.
"What?" I asked.
"I'll show you one of my computer dates, but you've got to share your date, too. You've got to tell me about it, okay?"
"Sure," I said.
It seemed innocent enough.
But I didn't know what he meant, how much he really wanted from me. Despite all his electronic relationships and connections, he was really very lonely. It showed in his shadowed eyes.
And then I thought, maybe Charlotte wasn't so wrong. Maybe she expected I would fill in some of the empty places that Evan's mother once occupied for him. It wasn't a bad thing to want for him. I thought. Perhaps she did care about him and feel terribly sorry for him. Who could blame her for bringing us into her home if that was truly the reason? It made me feel bad for doubting her or distrusting her.
But then I thought again about the lesson in the allegory of Plato's Cave: Things are not always what they seem to be. Wait, wait for the last bit of darkness and shadow to fall victim to the light, and then look again, think again, feel again.
Then you will know what is true and what is not.
7
Heart of the Angel
I had no idea how much time I had spent in Evan's room watching him work his computer and learning about it. I couldn't help but be fascinated by the exchanges going on between the boys and Girls he and I watched in the so-called dating room.
"I used to date this girl, too." he told me. "Her screen name is Dreamluv. She didn't change her dating room password so I can eavesdrop."
He looked at me and smiled.
"I think she wants me to listen in. It's her way of teasing me. She thinks it bothers me. I guess.
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