Papa was sent to death row and Mama changed our names.
I went from being Scott Walker to being Jimmy Hogan and we started to move from city to city, from town to town. It’s not easy, learning to answer to a different name. Never having a place to call home.
Mama worries that we will be identified. That me and my brother will be known as the killer’s kids.
Mama worries about lots of things. She worries about her sons, are we like our father? It is in our blood. Our DNA. DNA stands for deoxyribonucleic acid, which not many people know.
Mama talks a lot about blood and DNA. She does not like us to mix with other kids, to make friends. What if we lose our heads like Papa had done? What if we turn into killers too?
She made us promise to never touch a gun again. Even though Papa had shown us how to be safe with them. We promised, we vowed.
‘Cause Mama isn’t the only one to worry about us. We worry about ourselves too.
Papa always seemed so calm, so gentle.
What unknown demons lie within us, waiting for their moment?