Writing / Andy Warhol's Sister / 1989 / Deep & Savage Way / Helen of Santa Zita / Moscow Film World / Guide

I'm Not Your Mother The man walked down the street. In front of him, two boys rode rusty dirtbikes. They circled around each other and made small jumps. One taller boy went around a brown sedan with a fallen bumper. He followed the man. "Hey," the boy said. "Hey, mister." The man walked on and ran his hand through his yellow hair. He placed his hand on his forehead, pushed the hair back on to the top of his hand and then ran it over his head and down through the straight hair that covered his neck. The man wondered why the boy was talking to him. The other boy cycled over from across the street. "That's not a man," the shorter boy said. He had stopped and was fingering his knee through a hole in his jeans. "That's not a man. That's a lady." "You're right," the taller boy said. He caught up to the man, who had kept walking. He was nearing the end of the street. "Hey, lady," he said. The man almost stopped. But he hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets and continued. "Hey, lady," said the other boy. They were both biking on the street, weaving to avoid parked cars. A pick-up truck drove by and the taller boy tried to out-run it. When it pulled away from him, he turned around and came back. "Hey, lady," he said. He was right behind the man. His bike clattered on the sidewalk. The man walked a little faster, looking straight ahead. The tall boy was about to say more when he saw a driveway. He pedaled hard and jumped off it. When the bike landed, the rim of the front wheel collapsed. The boy fell off and the bike fell on its side nearby. He got up. His knees were raw pink. The man heard the clatter of the bike fall. He turned to look, but didn't stop walking. The shorter boy stopped and let his bike fall to the ground. The other boy was crying. He headed towards the man. "Hey, lady," the other boy said. "Hey lady, are you a mommy? Momma?" His knees turned crimson and dripped onto the torn pants. The man stopped. "I'm not your mother," he said, first looking around him, then looking back at the boys, who stood still and apart. The man started walking again, and when he reached the end of the street, he turned the corner and kept on walking.