"Mom," I croaked, my throat so dry I couldn't talk.She placed a straw in my mouth. "Drink," she said.Ah, the nurturer. How did she know how thirsty I ...as?"How am I?" I asked after swallowing a little water. I knew I was hurting, and I knew how to get rid of pain. I glanced around for a receptacle. Ah, another air-conditioning vent."The doctors say you'll be all right," Mom said.I gathered my pain and cast it into an imaginary container I'd created inside the vent."Any lasting damage?" I asked. Uncle Wally had laughed and asked whether Siobhan had been born in Belfast or Londonderry. At her answer of Boston, he had replied that the Boston Irish were even worse than the original, and that it if Ireland was such a paradise, why were all the Irish living elsewhere.This had set the tone and tenor of every subsequent meeting between the two, and the level of insult had grown to alarming proportion! Neither James nor I could account for Siobhan’s behavior, for it was perfectly obvious that. More

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