TGSR cont.

After the funeral, when we told my ma what we had done, about burying the squirrel and all, she became very still for a moment. Then she said, "The dog killed the squirrel. Okay. But it's your dog. So you have to make things right."

She gave the dish she was drying an extra rub, and I felt like telling her that it wasn't my fault, that I was sorry, but Joey was standing there next to me, so I couldn't.

Instead, I asked her, "Ma? Make it right? What do you mean?"

"Right now, I am not sure," she said, pausing as she opened the cupboard to put away the dish. "But it will come to you. The world . . . every living thing is connected to another, and things get put together. It will happen. Just you watch out for it."

"Put together?" Joey whispered, and his thoughts echoed my own. "The world . . . is connected?" What did ma mean?