Читать книгу Searching for Sam - Sophie Bienvenu - Страница 9

NOTHING WAS EVER CLEAN ENOUGH AT MY HOUSE. My mother cleaned everything, all the time. I wasn’t allowed to touch anything because I left fingerprints. I wasn’t allowed to walk anywhere because I left footprints.

“Would you leave him be?”

“You can tell you’re not the one who does the cleaning.”

“You don’t clean. You try to erase any trace of life.”

That’s when my dad would get up, put on his coat, and gesture with his head for me to come with him. I would run and get my coat.

“No, no, no, you stay here with your mother!” my mother would say. And to my dad: “You won’t take my son away from me, you can be sure of that.”

After a while, I quit hoping she would let me go with him. After a while, maybe because he was chicken, maybe because I was, I wound up hating him.