He'll be so pleased.
And wait until your father comes home, and your sister! Oh, she'll be so happy to see you.
You have no idea."
She hugged me, talking excitedly, making plans for the new life we were going to have together.
I hadn't the heart to remind her that most of my childhood teachers were gone from this school, that the neighbors had long moved away, that Uncle Herman had died many years ago, and that my father had left her. The nightmare of all those years had been pain enough.
I wanted to see her smiling and know I had been the one to make her happy. For the first time in my life, I had brought a smile to her lips.
Then after a while, she paused thoughtfully as if remembering something. I had the feeling her mind was going to wander.
"No!" I shouted, startling her back to reality,
"Wait, Ma!
There's something else. Something I want you to have before I go."
"Go?
You can't go away now."
"I have to go, Ma. I have things to do.
But I'll write to you, and I'll send you money."
"But when will you come back?"
"I don't know—yet. But before I go, I want you to have this."
"A magazine?"
"Not exactly.
It's a scientific report I wrote. Very technical.
Look, it's called The Algernon-Gordon Effect.
Something I discovered, and it's named partly after me.
I want you to keep a copy of the report so that you can show people that your son turned out to be more than a dummy after all."
She took it and looked at it in awe.
"It's… it's your name.
I knew it would happen.
I always said it would happen someday.
I tried everything I could.
You were too young to remember, but I tried.
I told them all that you'd go to college and become a professional man and make your mark in the world.
They laughed, but I told them."
She smiled at me through tears, and then a moment later she wasn't looking at me any more. She picked up her rag and began to wash the woodwork around the kitchen door, humming—more happily, I thought—as if in a dream.
The dog started barking again.
The front door opened and closed and a voice called:
"Okay, Nappie. Okay, it's me."
The dog was jumping excitedly against the bedroom door.
I was furious at being trapped here. I didn't want to see Norma.
We had nothing to say to each other, and I didn't want my visit spoiled. There was no back door. The only way would be to climb out the window into the back yard and go over the fence. But someone might mistake me for a burglar.
As I heard her key in the door, I whispered to my mother—I don't know why—
"Norma's home."
I touched her arm, but she didn't hear me. She was too busy humming to herself as she washed the woodwork.
The door opened.
Norma saw me and frowned.
She didn't recognize me at first—it was dim, the lights hadn't been turned on.
Putting down the shopping bag she was carrying, she switched on the light.
"Who are you?…" But before I could answer, her hand went over her mouth, and she slumped back against the door.
"Charlie!"
She said it the same way my mother had, gasping.
And she looked the way my mother used to look—thin, sharp features, birdlike, pretty.
"Charlie!
My God, what a shock!