He said: honey. I didn’t know you were.
I said: where is my mother?
He said: oh. She’s.
He said: my brother and I wanted to watch the game in here because there’s a TV.
He said: I put her in the basement.
I said: what?
He said: the basement. She’s comfortable down there.
I said: this is her room, Gabriel.
He said: no it’s not.
He said it with the specific hardening of a man who has been caught and who has decided that the defense is to hold the position rather than to capitulate.
He said: it’s my room. Just like this entire house. I’m the man of the house.
He said: my brother came over and we wanted to watch football.
I did not respond.
I went to the basement door.
The basement in our house was a finished basement in the functional sense, a space that had flooring and walls, but which was not what anyone would call a bedroom in any meaningful sense.
