"Are you all right?" I asked him.
"No," he said.
"Your father is worried about you," I told him. He raised his head and glared furiously at me.
"He told me he wasn't going to let her die. He told me. He promised!" he cried.
"I'm sure he did all he could do." I said softly. "It wasn't enough. He shouldn't have promised."
"He probably didn't want you to worry." I offered.
Scott glared back at me as if I was part of some horrible betrayal,
"'We don't lie to each other in this house. remember?"
"I don't think it was meant to be a lie," I said.
"Well, it was!" he shouted, "It was!"
I looked down. His face was burning with so much fury, it was painful to look at him, and even frightening.
"I wasn't supposed to have a mother." he declared, "She shouldn't have adopted me. I was supposed to be an orphan. My father will die, too," he concluded.
I started to shake my head,
"It's true. It's the same for you," he snapped. "You'll see. We're not supposed to have a family. Ask your father. Ask your father to send you back to your real mother and see what he says. He'll tell you she's either dead or she doesn't want you."
I bit down on my lower lip. He was bringing tears to my eyes. His words were like little knives scratching and cutting into my heart.
I started to shake my head and he jumped up, seized my hand, and pulled me out of his room,
"Come on," he said, leading me down the stairs.
Relatives started toward him, but he ignored them all and charged along the hallway. I followed behind. confused, but afraid to stop. He led me past the kitchen and down to the train room, where he threw the door open and then stepped back. I looked at him, confused, and then I looked through the doorway and my heart stopped.
The little city was wrecked, the houses smashed and thrown about. Railroad cars were crushed as well. It was as if a bomb had fallen on the whole thing.
Finally tears began to stream dawn my cheeks. "Why?" I managed to utter.
"Because this was a lie. too!" he screamed. He was crying now. "It's fake. Everything is fake!"
He stood there for a moment, his shoulders shaking, and then he turned and ran to the back door of the house and out. The door slammed shut behind him. For a few moments_. I couldn't move. I was shaking so badly.
"It'll be all right." I heard, and turned to see his father. "It will take time, but he will be all right." he said, smiling, his eyes as red as Scott's, "I'll go after him. Thanks for coming to see him." he told me, touched my shoulder, and then walked slowly to the back door.
I sobbed most of my way home. When I arrived. I went directly to the rear of the house, where we had benches. There were walkways through the gardens and bushes that led to the woods. The Doctor loved to go for long walks. Usually, he did so alone, but on occasion, he took me with him. He wouldn't walk as long or as far then. We talked about things and he asked me lots of questions.
I didn't know he was home and had gone for a walk this afternoon. so I was surprised when he suddenly appeared, returning from the woods and fields.
"Willow," he said, approaching and smiling at me. "I asked Isabella where you were and she said you had gone for a bike ride to see your friend Scott. Everything all right?" he asked, wondering why I was back so soon. I suppose.
"No. His mother died," I said angrily.
"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. You did tell me she was a very sick woman."
"Why didn't the doctors help her?" I demanded,
Even though I understood that he was involved solely with the illness of the mind. I did not separate him from the world of medicine and doctors I knew, They were all part of the same grand machine that was supposed to make us well again and repair our injuries. They were his people, and they had failed.