Eddie pressed closer to Cindy – warm, sweet Cindy, his only friend now that he had been betrayed by his mother and Carl… and yet, he knew deep down that he shouldn't be taking what he had seen so hard, that lovemaking was only a part of life and you couldn't pretend that it didn't exist. Still, he had always thought of sex as something you did in a bed under the covers, with someone you really loved… not just a slapping together of bodies on the floor, like two dogs in heat… God, why was he so confused? If only he hadn't seen them doing it, Carl and his mother, so soon after seeing his father and a strange woman back in Detroit… the shock of viewing both scenes was putting his young mind in a turmoil. He didn't hate his mother, the way he hated his father now, and he didn't really hate Carl either; but something was lost, gone forever, he felt, in his attitude toward the dark-hired man who was his friend and toward the woman who had given birth to him – and he didn't know exactly what it was…

Can I ever go back home, face Mommy again, after what I just saw? he asked himself. I don't know… she'll look in my face and see that something's wrong and she'll guess what it is, and then… what? Will things still be the same for us… will we be able to go on like we did last night, like early this morning… oh, I don't know, I don't know anything, why did this have to happen, why, why, why?

His sobs increased for a time as he poured out his torment, dimly aware that Cindy was talking to him, whispering words into his ear. Finally, some of the deep aching left him and he was able to stop crying. And he became aware, then, of the words she was saying to him, the soft, gentle, droning words…