Some Lies are not Livable

When I was little boy, snooping around,  my mother and Jason’s mom  were having this deep whisper talk.

I was too young to know the ‘key words’ or what I was really hearing, but there was something ‘under’ the words.

As I say I don’t know what was really being said but  maybe a week later Jason and his mother moved away and I never saw them again.

Jason had been  my best friend.  Not seeing him was more than losing a ball or scraping a knee.  

Yeah, I had other friends. other things to do, so it wasn’t as if this was a major trauma, but it mattered. 

 And although I grew up and moved on, something about that conversation between my mother and his mother banged around my head and I held the words, the ‘under current’  long enough to decipher  what I had heard and match it to what I ‘knew’ and then, what it meant.