The crowd loves it. Suddenly, Mack comes down a little hard on one leap. For one brief, horrible moment, I think he’s injured. But within a second, Mack shakes off the pain and is watching my every signal. For first time, I wonder how long we’ll be able to continue these performances. There will come a day when he’ll be too old to do it. We’ll have to retire. At my subtle command, my dog—my partner—rises on his hind legs and pirouettes around me in perfect clockwise rotation, a little furry ballerina. I relax. It will be a long time before we stop dancing, and only when Mack tells me he wants to.

*   *   *

I touch my mouth with the memory of Mack’s happy jumps. I miss him so much. In my life, he is the only one who hasn’t let me down.

*   *   *

Los Angeles was pretty good for a while. I had a nice job at a health-care center, where I did patient intake. I liked it, a first for me. Tony entered junior high there. He seemed to like school, had a few friends he hung around with, boys from around the neighborhood where I had found us a small place to rent, a neighborhood that edged up close to South L.A.

*   *   *

“Mrs. Meade, we found your son with three other boys and a bottle of vodka.” The principal is a burly guy, Hispanic, and fighting hard to keep an unruly school population in check. He uses the words “zero tolerance” like a cudgel. My pubescent boy is being suspended.

“It’s Ms., not Mrs. What am I supposed to do?”

“He’ll have to keep up with his schoolwork. His teachers will give you what you need.”

“I mean, what do I do to prevent this from happening again?”

Mr. Chavez just looks at me, a flicker of something that might be sympathy in his eyes. “Keep him away from those boys, first. Second, keep him busy. Third, you might want to see about counseling. I wish I could say that this is a boyish experiment, but there have been other incidents, as you know.”

I do know. The fights, the inappropriate language, getting caught smoking in the boys’ lav; the bad grades, which weren’t a result of not understanding the material, but of failing to do the homework. It’s overwhelming. I have to work; I can’t be on him every second. Besides, that never worked for me, so why would it work for Tony? He’s my baby, my only family, and lately he’s become a stranger to me. Secretive, rude. I feel the tears working their way into my eyes, but I won’t let them come. “I’ll take care of it.”

*   *   *