Mom
Danny ’ s
FICTION
By Susie Finkbeiner
The first time I heard the word “ hooker ” was in third grade . A few of the boys in my class followed Danny around the playground , saying the word . Over and over and over . “ Hooker ,” they said . “ Hooker . Hooker . Danny ’ s mom is a hooker .”
I knew it must have been a bad or mean word . The boys laughed in a strange , angry way . Danny hung his head .
At our small , private school , everybody knew each other ’ s business . Danny just happened to go to church with the biggest gossip at our school . As soon as she found out about his mom , she made sure everyone found out . Later that day , I found him crying in the coat room . I didn ’ t ask him why . I didn ’ t ask what a hooker was . I just knew that it was bad and that it had something to do with Danny . I left him there . Alone .
“ What ’ s a hooker ?” I asked my Grandma a few days later . I sat on her couch , the one she called a Davenport , sipping hot cocoa . “ The boys at school keep saying that word . What is it ?”
“ It ’ s not nice , that ’ s what it is ,” she answered . “ It ’ s a girl who does something bad with men for money . That ’ s all I ’ m telling you .”
“ Danny ’ s real mom is bad ,” my friend Renee told me . “ She sleeps with men and they give her money .”
We sat atop the monkey bars on the playground at school . Renee always knew everything about everybody .
“ Why is that bad ?” I asked . “ They ’ re just sleeping .”
“ No . It ’ s different .” Renee looked at me , moved closer . “ She does it with the men .”
“ Oh ,” I said . I nodded . Pretended that I understood what it was . But whatever it was , I knew it was bad . And Danny ’ s mom did it for money . And Danny was bad because his mom was bad .
“ Grandma told me you asked her what a hooker is ,” my mom said to me in the car on the way home from school . “ Where did you hear that word ?”
My mom was a teacher at my school . She knew all the kids . Probably figured out which kids had taught me the word . And I was a bad liar . “ I don ’ t know ,” I said . “ Was it Ricky ? Or James ?” She knew .
She always knew . I nodded my head .
“ How were they saying the word ?” She pulled the station wagon onto the main street .
“ Well , they say it to Danny . About his mom .”
“ That poor boy ,” she said . She shook her head . We didn ’ t speak for the rest of the ride .
The next year I learned the word “ prostitute .” I also learned what a drug addict was . And that Danny ’ s mom was one . Danny told me that . Kids who have it rough learn to trust each other . That ’ s why he could trust me .