It was a relief, in a way, to hear her say these things. I had always felt that there was something wrong with me. I was like one of the tracings I did on her baking paper, a bad one, where the comic book underneath slipped; the lines slewed across the page, and the picture became a monstrous version of itself.

“Do you understand?” she asked. Her fingers on my cheek, light and cool. “You must never tell anyone about this. Not your friends at school, and not your father. It must be a secret between you and me alone.”

I nodded.

“Do not cry,” Mommy said. “Come with me.” She pulled me up with a strong arm.

“Where are we going?”

“We are not going anywhere. We are walking,” she said. “When your feelings get too big, you must come to the woods and walk.” The nurse tone crept into her voice somewhat. “Exercise is good for the mind and the body. Thirty minutes each day is recommended. It will help you to master yourself.”

We marched along the trail in silence for a time. Mommy’s blue dress flew out behind her in the breeze. She looked like something from a myth, here among the trees.

“They would call you ‘insane’ if they knew what you were,” she said. “That word. I abhor it. Promise me that you will never call a woman insane, Theodore.”

“I promise,” I said. “Can we go home now?” I thought of Snowball’s pink paws and eyes. The tears rose again. There was still a lot of feeling left in me.

“Not yet,” Mommy said. “We keep walking until the need to cry has passed. You will tell me when that is.”

I took hold of her skirt and clung to it with both fists as we walked. My hands were still dirty from the grave we had dug. They left finger marks on the blue organza. “Thank you for not being mad at me,” I said. I meant the dress, the mouse, everything.

“Mad,” she said, thoughtful. “No, I am not mad. For a long time, I have feared that this was in you. Now it is confirmed. I find that it is a relief. I no longer need to think of you as my son. No longer must I search my heart for a love that I cannot feel.”

I cried out and tears welled hot in my eyes. “You can’t mean that,” I said. “Please don’t say that.”

“It is the truth.” She did look down at me, now. Her eyes were remote and serious. “You are monstrous. However, you are my responsibility. I will continue to do what I can for you, because that is my duty, and I have never been afraid of my duty. I will not permit you to be called ‘insane.’ In this country, in particular, they love to throw that word around like a ball.”