Last week Saturday evening, Richard did not come out of his room to say goodbye to his mother. But Mrs Dalrymple was too excited to go out with Roland Shaw to care less. Roland did not go inside because Richard made it clear he wasn't welcome as he needed nostepfather.

It's two years now since his father has died, and suddenly his mother has been jolted from her eternal mourning, and has stopped wearing dark clothes. For her, colours are in, especially that gaudy bright yellow that everybody seems to be wearing. He was glad Mama D, as he calls her, was over with the fixation with his father's passing, especially forcing him to wear his father's clothes.

source of happiness

When he found out Roland was the source of Mama D's happiness, he was very ambivalent about their weekly tryst. He was afraid of what it could evolve into. At 25, he needs no substitute papa. She no longer forces him to wear his father's 'dead-lef', but she is now boring him with stories of her romantic dates with Roland.

Every time she returned singing "I could have danced all night" he pretended to be asleep, and in the morning he avoided her. But, in all of this, nothing peeves him as much as Mama D's new wigs of various shades and styles.

After weeks of bother, he broached the subject. "Because they made me preddier," was the chirpy dismissive response.

'How?'

"Not debatable, not debatable, moving along. Roland said I am beautiful."

Whatever Roland thought was not important to him, and though Mama D once accused him of trying to take away the wind from under her wigs, he was very uncomfortable with Mama D's new appearance. First, there were the Revivalesque turbans, and now synthetic wigs. It was now after 11, and Richard lay in bed waiting for his mother's singing arrival. At minutes to midnight Roland's car pulled up. Car door opened, then closed. So did the gate. Front door opened and then locked. Car sped away. Light switched on. Then, "Aaaaaaaah! Oh my Gaaad! Richard, Richard! What is going on? There's an image in the living room, Richard, Richard!"

Mama D sailed past the 'image' and headed towards Richard's room, beating down its door. The feinting Richard opened the door fast, shouting, "What is it, what is it?" The now incredulous Mama D snarled, "You know fully well what it is!"

"Yes, that's you," he retorted unrepentantly.

"Me?"

"Yes, you, Mama D, that's what you look like."

"You bastard!" she blurted, slapped him hard and rushed to her room with a loud wail.

Though the box stung his right cheek, he mustered a smile as he looked at the tall, jet-black mannequin that he placed at the centre of the living room. It had long, blonde hair and wore fire-red lipstick, and was dressed in a bright yellow halter-top frock. In her bedroom, Mama D bellowed, and seemed to be pulling down things. As Richard was about to remove the mannequin Mama D shouted from behind him, "Leave it, leave it!"

She then pushed him out of the way, and stared at the striking image in front of her. After a few silent seconds of introspection and inspection, she removed the blonde wig, fixed her eyes on the bald head, and let out a high-pitched laugh. She looked at Richard, back at the mannequin and laughed again.

"What's that for?" a now concerned Richard asked.

"That's you," Mama D said, pointing to the mannequin.

"Me?"

"Yes!"

"No, that's you."

"And that's why it's you."

"Me?"

"I am you, and you are me," she said laughing and dashed to her bedroom again.

The befuddled Richard looked quizzically at the mannequin for a while and whispered, "That's not me."

"Talking to a dummy, are you?" the returning Mama D asked. She carried a big box and two pairs of scissors. She sat on the couch and emptied the contents of the box on to the carpet. "Come," she said to Richard, "take this," and gave him a pair of scissors. "Sit down."

As mother and son cut the wigs to pieces, Mama D talked to him about Roland Shaw. He listened nonchalantly, but was enjoying destroying the wigs. The last one was the long, blonde one. And they laughed as they ran the scissors through its shiny artificial tresses. Then, without warning, Mama D removed the short, brown one she had on to reveal a head as bald as Richard's and the mannequin's.

A shocked Richard jumped up and exclaimed, "Mummy, what happened?" As Mama D slowly got up, she said, "Never mind, I am you and you are me, that's what you father's death did to me."

"Oh, Mummy, I'm sorry, ma'am ... "

"I said never mind, just give me a dance."

"But, there's no music."

"Who needs music when I have you."

Richard held his mother around her waist, and as they danced upon the mangled wigs Mama D sang, "I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night ... "

Richard then slowly caressed her bald pate. As a tear trickled down his face, he said, "I love you Mama D."

The smiling Mama D replied, "I love you too, baby," and pulled him to her. He squeezed her as if there were no tomorrow as they stood on the mess of wigs and weep.