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“I heard it.”
The sound. I heard it. And I knew I heard it and not felt it because it wasn’t me. It was only me and her in the room. And I think… I know she did it.
So I left the room and entered the kitchen and said…
“She did it.”
“She did what.”
“She made that sound. That sound that I don’t think you like.”
Then I paused and thought again. Maybe it wasn’t that mum didn’t like it.
“You know that sound that I make that you don’t like…. She did it.”
“My heavens dear what are you talking about?”
Now the last time I made the sound, mum pulled the car over because she thought something had died. I told her something was let free. She asked me what it was that was let free and because I had no more to share … at the moment… though the belly fizzies that prelude the sound were beginning, I played the sound for her with my mouth.
“She made the smelly sound. The only sound I know that has a smell.”
I was rather sure mum knew what I was speaking of. Each time I say the word … she turns her nose up even if I don’t make the smelly sound. Maybe her brain was effected by her nose. Maybe her nose was effected by the homemade macaroni and cheese being prepared. Maybe she didn’t want to say it. Maybe she had forgotten.
There was no maybe about it. I was going to remind her because she did it.
There was a moment of silence. Mum really had no idea. And I wanted her to know that she made a sound and the smell was not from me. So I said it.
“Farted. Mum she farted… and it was for a really long time.”
Mum put her hand over her mouth and nose. I thought to myself that the smell wasn’t strong enough anymore though afterwards I knew it was to cover a grin that had begun to infect her cheeks and eyes.
Journey heard what I was saying. She quickly entered the room with…
“I did not fart.”
“Yes you did. I heard it. And I definitely smelt it.”
“I did not fart. Girls do not fart.”
“Well, whenever I do that you said you didn’t do… mommy calls it a fart. And you did it. It sounded like a fart. It smelled like a fart and if I could paint it…. It would look like a fart too.”
I though to myself what would a fart look like. How do you paint an invisible? Maybe I’ll try that later.
“Girls do not fart. We can’t fart. Only boys can.”
I looked up at my mother with a bit of wonder. I wondered what she would say. I wondered what Journey was saying. I wondered what I heard and smelled. And Journey continued…
“I can’t fart. I am unable to fart.”
My eyes spread in wonder of the moments that had passed. Before the fresh air was invaded by what was not a fart. And she continued. It was an unknown now known. She said it. The first time the words danced in my ear. It sounded just right. Just like I remembered it.
And that was that. I learned that day. When the “she’s” do it… it’s a poot and when the he’s do it… it’s a fart.