– No! I tell you no! I won’t have you bringing some young girl in for supper! By candlelight, I suppose, in the cheap, erotic fashion of young men with cheap, erotic minds!
– Mother, please…!
– And then what? After supper? Music? Whispers?
– Mother, she’s just a stranger. She’s hungry, and it’s raining out!
– “Mother, she’s just a stranger”! As if men don’t desire strangers! As if… ohh, I refuse to speak of disgusting things, because they disgust me! You understand, boy? Go on, go tell her she’ll not be appeasing her ugly appetite with MY food… or my son! Or do I have tell her because you don’t have the guts! Huh, boy? You have the guts, boy?
– Shut up! Shut up!
It’s sad when a mother has to speak the words that condemn her own son. I couldn’t allow them to believe I would commit murder. They’ll put him away now as I should have years ago. He was always bad and in the end he intended to tell them I killed those girls and that man, as if I could do anything but just sit and stare like one of his stuffed birds. Oh, they know I can’t even move a finger and I won’t. I’ll just sit here and be quiet just in case they do…. suspect me. They’re probably watching me. Well, let them. Let them see what kind of a person I am. I’m not even going to swat that fly. I hope they are watching… they’ll see. They’ll see and they’ll know, and they’ll say, ‘Why, she wouldn’t even harm a fly.’