"No. Mommy," I said. "Good."
"Boys have a rougher edge," she continued. "I really don't mind your love of insects, your collection of dead things."
I swallowed hard. I minded it.
"In time, of course. I would expect you to focus yourself on more important things, Noble. A boy must become a man. You must assume more responsibility. Your day will be filled with more serious work and less playtime. We have a lot to do here together. There is just the two of us now, and I will depend upon you to help with the harder chores. It will take much more strength than you have shown in the past, but you will grow if you listen to me. Will you?"
There was nothing in her face that revealed she did not really see Noble in me when she looked at me now. Sometimes, when she spoke. I listened for hesitation, but there was never any. She looked at me just the way she had always looked at Noble. I had envied him for that, and now it was mine, forever and ever, my mother's eyes were mine.
"Yes. Mommy." I said. "I will listen. I promise." "Good."
She reached out and took my hands into hers, turning them palms up.
"Your hands will get tougher, rougher, too. Noble. Don't be afraid of calluses. Calluses protect your hands from the pain of hard work. Remember how rough Daddy's hands were and how strong?" I nodded.
"Yours will be like that. Don't be worried about skin lotions, and don't try to be like me," she warned, 'Boys don't think of such things for some time, and you're rapidly approaching that age when things begin to be different, so different between boys and girls.
"Anyway." she said. "I want you to know that for now it's all right for you to go back into the forest and finish your fort. Your childhood days are limited, and you should be able to get the most out of them. I know how precious those memories will be to you when you're older and mature and unable, to do things like that anymore.
"Try to recall all the stories your daddy told you about himself when he was a little boy. Remember h
ow much he enjoyed reminiscing and describing the things he had done?"
"Yes,'" I said, smiling at that memory.
"Well, it will be the same for you. Oh, there is so much for you to learn. Noble, so much to know and be aware of so you don't make mistakes, especially with people who could never understand us, appreciate us. We don't need them barking at our heels, peeping through fences, whispering about us." she said with anger tightening her lips and filling her eyes with bright new rage. "Fortunately, as you know. I was a schoolteacher for a long time. I know about boys and girls better than most mothers know about them. and I will always be here to help you. So you need not worry. Okay, my darling?"
She ran her fingers through my hair, mussing it. I started to fix it, and she stopped me.
"Don't worry so much about your looks vet, Noble. Boys get dirtier_ more messy and don't think about it until they are older and think about the way they look to girls. You're not going to be a Little Lord Fauntleroy. Arthur Atwell's son will never be called a sissy, never," she pledged.
When I was studying to be a teacher. I studied what is called the gender differences. Gender is another word for sexual differences. Boys hate to be compared to girls, to be thought too much like a girl, but girls aren't as frightened of it, and do you know why?"
I shook my head.
"Boys in general are more aggressive, more competitive. It's why men still make more money than women in this country and why women have a harder time being successful. Women aren't supposed to be tough, relentless, ruthless, which are often things people must be to claw their way to the top. See? I even said 'claw.' Most women don't want to claw. Most women don't want to break their fingernails."
She looked at my hands.
"I've got to cut yours back. I see. Okay, enough of this lecture for now. Go on out and work on your fort. I'll be by later to see how you're doing."
I really wasn't sure what to do exactly. but I went out to the barn and located the tools I had seen Noble use. The walls of the fort were not quite complete. There was a pile of wood slats beside what had been done. so I began to fit them on the shell Noble had built. I worked for hours, and when I stepped back. I noticed that my slats were put on more neatly and evenly. I was thinking about it so hard and remembering my brother so much. I didn't realize Mommy had been standing behind me for a while.
"Stop worrying so much about how pretty it is she suddenly said. and I spun around. '`It's just a little boy's imaginary fortress in the woods. Noble. Get it done." she said. and I saw that it had become more important to her than it had ever been to my brother.
I went back to work, and a little while later. I caught a splinter in my palm. It hurt. so I threw down the hammer and went to the house. Mommy was sitting in the living room in her great-grandpa Jordan's rocking chair, staring out the window and moving back and forth very gently. She heard me come in, but kept looking out the window,
"What is it. Noble?" she asked.
"I got a splinter," I said.
"So? You've gotten splinters before, and you kept working because you were afraid I'd tell you to stop building your fort. remember? Remember how I saw them only when I got into your bath and I lectured you about infections? Remember?"
I started to shake my head, but she turned to me sharply. and I stopped.
"Yes."
"Go back to your fort. I'll call you when its time to have dinner" she said.