We built a ladder out of rope and wood slats and hung it in the huge pine tree behind the house. For a few weeks, Aidan could spend hours at a time playing on it and we spent some idyllic summer afternoons under the tree. The kids' feet were splotchy black from sap coming off of the roots.

One afternoon, a car squealed into the mobile home park driveway, did a 360 in the parking lot where kids are picked up by the school bus in the months that don't belong to summer, and squealed again to go back where it came from. Under our tree we could hear the voices of a man and a woman screaming at each other. The blood in their voices was frightening to me.

Of course they had commanded all of our attention and as they were leaving I let out a little, "uh".

"What is it, Mom?"

"They're fighting." I said, not really knowing what to say.

"No, they're arguing." says Aidan, clearing everything up for me.