Calix tried to shake Thane's death grip on his clothes, but the boy refused to budge.
"It really wasn't us, Ma'am!" he piped up, only to be quickly silenced by a glare from Ira.
With a glance at the woman's furrowed brow, he understood why the boy shut him up. It seemed any time Calix or Thane opened their mouths, it only made the woman more angry.
"Mother," Ira soothed again, "why don't you send those rowdy kids on their way and let me recite the verses I've been practicing for you?"
The boy stepped closer to the woman and gently grabbed her hand.
"I'm sure it will help your headache," he said softly.
Calix's mouth gaped as he watched the performance. Within minutes, Ira had gone from a rash child in a shouting match with Thane to a devoted son caring for his ailing mother.
Moved by her son's thoughtful words, the woman finally gave in.
