Though it was all subconscious, the chance to live with her for two months gave him the perfect opportunity to pretend he was her son. Among the many things Billy remembered about that vacation was the time his stomach began hurting late one morning after Johnny had departed for a tennis lesson. Mrs. Wilkins brought Billy to her bedroom and took his temperature. When that proved normal, she asked, “Billy, when did you last go potty?” “Not since yesterday morning, Mrs. Wilkins.” “No wonder, child. Why didn’t say so earlier? You’re not sick… you’re just a little constipated. You probably haven’t been eating enough fruit lately. Have you?” “No m’aam,” Billy replied. “How about a nice, warm, soapy enema? That will solve your problem in a jiffy.” “OK, Mrs. Wilkins. If you think it will help.” “Sure it will. You’ll feel better in no time.
Mrs Wilkins2
