My mother and I have always had a strong relationship, though it might seem otherwise to people who see us together because my mother is very different in public than she is in private. I used to wonder why this was so, but I never asked because I could sense that she would not respond well to the question. In private, we are very close. In public, she seems more distant. I long ago decided that one reason for this was because she worked as a schoolteacher, and I think she saw me in public not as her daughter but as someone the same age as her students. In a funny way, she did not want to be seen to be showing favoritism even to her own daughter.
In any case, I got used to it and did not mind it once I did. I often pretended that we were strangers, or that I was a student following her through the marketplace, learning from her every step of the way. I don't think she had any idea that's what I was doing, but she did react as if she understood, for she would point things out to me, talk to me as if giving a lesson.
"How many oranges would we have if I asked you to give me the square root of nine in oranges?"
"Mother, I'm not sure but I think we would have to peel the fruit and start counting sections," I replied.
I thought she would laugh but she would give me a stern look as if I was a naughty student overstepping propriety. I was more a walking example of her scholarship than her companion, daughter, and shopping assistant. She would then turn to me and ask, "You see the price for these tomatoes? If we get five pounds worth, what will it cost?" And I would figure it out and answer her, quickly and correctly to avoid her possible glare.
The marketplace was lively and noisy. It was like an unruly classroom full of pupils talking out of turn. Mother seemed constantly alert to the possibility that one of her students or their parents would be fellow shoppers. She surveyed each fruit stand, eyed the b...