Stuck in Neutral by Terry Trueman

since. Watching Mom standing there, I remember so many things about her: I remember every soft word she’s ever whispered in my ear, every gentle, silly lullaby, each and every time I’ve come back after a seizure to find myself cradled in her arms. If I had to name a single reason why I’ve been as happy as I’ve been, I know that it would be my certainty of Mom’s love for me, love that’s absolute, rock solid. Yet right now, at this moment, I think about Ally and how much I’d like to have a girlfriend. I even wonder what it would be like to love someone else more than I love my mom. I know that the secret to happiness is love, to be loved the way Mom has always loved me, and to love back the way I’ve loved her. Yet now, somehow, I think about a new meaning for love, something even bigger.
    Cindy and Paul show up together, coming into the family room, pushing and teasing.
    â€œI need to tell you guys something,” Mom says. She uses her best put-on-a-happy-face voice, so all of us know instantly that something must be wrong.
    â€œI need to discuss something with you guys,” Mom says.
    â€œYou said that,” Paul counters, already on the defensive.
    Both Cindy and Paul look guilty, not specific guilt, but more like “I wonder what she’s found out about?” Mom notices this and laughs. “You’re not in trouble,” she reassures them. “I just have to tell you something.”
    By this time I can feel the weight of what’s coming. I can hear it in her tone. Mom’s a naturally positive and cheerful person. When she sounds as overly positive as she’s sounding now, it has to mean something is pretty bad.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Cindy asks anxiously, staring at Mom with the same suspicious feelings I have.
    â€œIt’s about your dad,” Mom says.
    Paul instantly groans and asks, “Now what?”
    â€œI haven’t even told you what it’s about,” Mom says defensively.
    Paul snaps back, “If it has to do with Dad, you don’t have to.” He slumps down on the big blue couch in the family room. Cindy sits next to him.
    Mom takes a breath, and she turns to Paul. “You’re mad at your dad. I know that, but you need to set that aside for a moment and just listen. The Alice Ponds Show is going to do a program about your dad’s newest project—”
    Cindy interrupts. “The thing about the schools?”
    â€œNo,” Mom says.
    â€œWhat new project?” Paul asks.
    Mom sighs, just a quick little sigh, but all three of us catch it. It’s her signature giveaway that the punch line is next.
    â€œYour dad’s writing a new book. It’s about Earl Detraux.”
    â€œOh no!” Cindy snaps, jerking her knees up to her chest and burying her head.
    â€œWho?” Paul asks sarcastically. “Who’s Earl Dayglow?”
    Cindy’s voice comes out from her knees. “Has Dad gone crazy?”
    Mom says, “Your dad thinks it’s an important story. He thinks—”
    Cindy interrupts. “Bull! He’s not thinking at all. Jesus Christ!”
    Paul yells, “What’s going on?! Who’s this Earl guy?”
    Cindy looks up and hisses, “He’s that monster from eastern Washington who murdered his kid.”
    I placed the name immediately, the second Mom said it, and now the voice-overs of a dozen TV news stories flash back perfectly in my head: Earl Detraux killed his brain-damaged two-year-old son, Colin, a little over a year ago. He smothered the little boy and was convicted of second-degree murder. He received a twenty-year sentence in Walla Walla State Penitentiary.
    Mom answers Paul, telling him about Earl.
    â€œI don’t get it,” Paul says. “Why’s Dad into that?”
    Mom says, “I won’t speak for your father. I’m not going to stand here and lie to you and say that I understand or agree