Saving Elijah

only bought it last week," Alex said.
    "And the store, I'm sure, is forever grateful that you took it off their hands," I said.
    He rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, Mom."
    "It's not just the shirt, it's what's on the shirt."
    "And the music, and the earring, right? So you tell everyone."
    The "Agitated Observer" piece I called "Generation Gap" had run just a few days ago. I hadn't mentioned Alex by name but I'd used his newfound interests as a way into my own musings on the moment of truth in life when you suddenly realize your complaints about your children sound just like your parents' complaints about you sounded.
    "I thought you didn't even read my column, Alex."
    "I didn't need to read it. Adam showed it to me."
    I sighed. "I'm sorry if it embarrassed you, Alex."
    He shrugged. "It didn't. Anyway, what about her?" He pointed at his sister, who was pouring herself some juice. "What about those jeans?"
    I hadn't meant to start World War III.
    "This is just a style, Alex." Kate put her hand on her hip. "But when you're a little punk I guess the only way you can prove what a big man you are is to wear a shirt like that with a naked woman on it."
    "She's not naked," my son said. "Get a life, babe."
    My palms went damp.
    Kate was frowning. "Babe? Excuse me?"
    "Where'd you hear that expression, Alex?" I asked.
    "All his friends talk that way, Mom," Kate said. "It makes them feel like big men."
    "Kate's mad," Elijah said.
    "No, I'm not, little guy." She kissed Elijah on the cheek, then moved past Alex. "Gotta go. 'Bye."
    "'Bye, Kate," Elijah said.
    She grabbed her book bag and was gone. I turned back to Alex. "I really am sorry about the column."
    He shrugged.
    "Don't be mad at Mommy," Elijah said.
    "It's all right, Elijah. He's allowed to be mad."
    "I'm not really mad." Alex was pouring himself more juice. "It's no big deal."
    "How about if I never mention I have a son in print again?"
    "Everybody knows now. What's the point of never mentioning it again?"
    I poured myself another cup of coffee, took it over to the table, and sat down next to Elijah. I took a sip.
    "Mommy loves you, too, Alex," Elijah said.
    Alex stared at him for a moment, then turned to me. "I'm sorry, Mom. I think your column is cool. It's just a shirt. I'm just expressing myself." His look of amusement reminded me of his father, though lately Sam was more upset and wary than amused.
    "Some forms of expression are better than others." I wiped Elijah's face. He sputtered.
    Alex sighed. "Don't worry so much, Mom. I'm fine. When I start flunking out of school, then you can worry." He came over and kissed me on the forehead. "See you later."
    "Do you like that shirt, Elijah?" I said when Alex had gone, slamming the door behind him.
    He shook his head. "It's ugly."
    "I'm with you, kiddo."
    Holding his fork in a meaty grip, Elijah took the last bite of his pancake. "Don't be mad."
    I wiped his mouth again. "Why's that?"
    "Because then he'll be mad. He'll change his mind."
    "How do you know that?"
    Elijah took a sip of his orange juice. "He will."
    "How the hell does he know?"
    I jumped. The demon was sitting on top of the counter, dangling its boots.
    "Know what?"
    "Know that Alex will change his mind."
    "You did this to Alex."
    Its eyes quivered. "Lady, you have really lost it. You think I can haunt two people at once? You think this is easy?"
    I moved in front of him, to block his view of Elijah. "Stay away from my children."
    It feigned a look of indignation. "After all I did, I should expect a little appreciation—"
    "Stay away."
    "Make me." It sniggered and disappeared.

    *    *    *

    I had no patients that day, was coming up on deadline, had not a germ of an idea for the next column, and was so jumpy that concentration was hopeless. Knowing the potential consequences of using either of my teenage children as fodder didn't help.
    I turned on my computer, and for two hours sat with an empty screen and an even emptier head.
    Sam called around noon. "Hi, Di. Here I am in beautiful downtown Milwaukee."
    I'd been so preoccupied I didn't even remember where he said he was going.
    When he asked me how the kids were, I told him about the Megadeth T-shirt incident.
    "I really don't think you should make such a big deal about this stuff."
    This from the man who'd said the lyrics to Alex's music were sadistic? "The shirt doesn't bother you, Sam?"
    My husband was silent.
    "Sam?"
    "Dinah, I think ... I mean, I really think you should worry about yourself