LINE 10

John looked at his watch like he had done every few minutes since he woke up. 3:30 PM. For the gazillionth time he wondered if it was still too early to shuttle over to Fragrant Meadows. Today was the day. Julia was coming. He was not aware of his excitement, he just found himself incapable of doing anything.

His mother watched him amused.

"Why don't you call Mrs. Livingston," she said, "and ask her when they're supposed to arrive?"

"Now why should I do that?" John turned his head in surprise.

"Because all day you're behaving as if an ant tribe's taken up residence inside your pants," said Sarah, trying to sound casual.

"Uggh mom!" said John, fascinated as usual with his mother's graphic way of using her words. No wonder kids loved her books.

Feeling his discomfort, Sarah put down her glasses and made eye contact with her son. Lately, talking to her little boy had evolved into a real challenge. She knew he felt embarrassed about his changing body, his cracking voice. She would have loved to make this easier for him but knew how important it was - especially now - that he didn't start to withdraw. She continued to coax him lovingly into expressing his feelings of insecurity.

"John," she said, cautiously testing the territory, "there is no shame in being excited about seeing your friend again. You don't need to act cool. She's probably as thrilled as you are."

"But mom," John blurted out, finally acknowledging his concern, "What if I don't like her anymore? What if she turned into a girl!"

So this is where the wind blows Sarah thought. "Hormones finally kicking?" she was tempted to say, bit her tongue and asked instead, "This has nothing to do with Andy's visit this morning, does it?"

"I don't know what you mean," John said defensively. Meanwhile he was aware that this would only buy him some time to avoid the unavoidable. His mother sure had her ways to get to him, to make him tell his most secret thoughts. Well, not all of them: so far he had never shared his experiences with Grandpa Sam nor had he revealed any of the stuff he had read in the 'Alchemy of Death and Birth.'

"What I mean could be something like this," Sarah handled each word as carefully as a raw egg, "maybe Andy made fun of your relationship with Julia?"

Oh boy, could be something like this, John thought. Andy had given him hell ever since he found out about Julia's visit. He liked Andy best of all the boys who wanted to be his friends, but he hated it when he bragged about his conquests. Naturally, John didn't believe half of it - he just considered all that boys-and-girls stuff seriously overrated, boring even, and wished Andy would stop pestering him.

"If you don't know what you mean, how could I?" he finally said in a last futile attempt to save himself from disclosing his embarrassing emotions. "I think I better hop on the bike and diesel over there, it's getting late."

Sarah pondered whether she should let it go, decided against it. John had been looking forward to Julia's visit all summer long, and she would do her best to help him have a joyful experience.

"Honey listen," she said, getting up from her chair, moving closer to John. Reading his response, she presumed it was okay to take his hands. "It doesn't matter what others think of you and your choices. The only important thing is that you are comfortable with them. I'm sure Julia will have changed over the past year and maybe she has grown into a girl as you call it, but that does not mean that you two can't continue your friendship. Just remember to be honest with her, the way you've always been. Don't play a role. Just be who you are, that'll be enough." She let go of John's hands and moved one step away from him before she continued. "Julia is only six months older than you and trust me, occasionally she feels as uncomfortable with her changing self as you are with yours. Take it from a girl," she added, trying to take the weight off her speech.

John exhaled deeply with relief, throwing his arms around his mother's neck. As an outer sign of his emotional turmoil, his voice cracked. "Thank you mom. I better go."

With the ballast of juvenile desolation lifted from his shoulders, he zipped out the door. As Sarah watched him speed down the road, she felt once more really grateful for the fact that she could work at home and be available to her little boy when he needed her.

"Even if he doesn't know it," she said out loud.

The habit of talking to themselves seemed to be a hereditary feature of the Freeman household.