.My class got over at 12 noon..So I thought to visit my mom…..When I went there I saw my mom checking something in the laptop there…. I was happy ...hat she got a job and is happy….Then the managing director of the dairy farm came there…My mom introduced me as her son……He was a black tamil man… 6 feet tall and very muscular… He welcomed me…Then he told mom that her duty is about to begin as a test manager….Mom was happy….He took us into the farm…There was milk sucking machines there which is used. " And Pattie is a sissy. Didn't you know? I would have figured that youknew before anyone else."This was absurd. All of the old schoolyard taunts came back to me. I felta primal urge to call him queer, homo, ass-bandit.And yet...There was something else there, too, something I would never admit toKelly or anyone else with ears. It was something like ... jealousy. Therefor a second, I wished it were ... me.I looked on as Patrick's lips glistened in the dining room lights. Inoticed his legs, his. Emily didn’t want details. She wanted a hard dollar amount. I knew that because if I were her, that is what I would want to hear as well. She also wanted some of that money early. I told Mike not to give it to her because, like me, she was terrible at budgeting and would splurge.He told her that depending on her behavior, he would give her an allowance. That seemed to satisfy Emily a little. Her tone was subtle so she didn’t seem overly demanding at first. I knew exactly the games she was. Angie and I got along pretty well the first two years or so but then she got pregnant and gave birth to my half-sister Patsy. From that time forward, Angie treated me like the proverbial stepchild. Patsy always came first, getting whatever she wanted, while I got nothing. As the years went by, my resentment of Angie slowly turned to pure hatred. I could tell by her actions toward me that she hated me as much as I despised her. The situation got progressively worse. One Saturday morning I woke.
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