"I'll be here in the morning,'" she said. "I'll be around here much more often, too. Don't disobey me."
"Okay, Grandmother, ' I said.
"Dispsting. Horrible. A disgrace piled on a disgrace," she muttered, and then opened the door, switched off my lights, and went out, closing the door behind her.
I lay there in the darkness, my heart still pounding. Minutes later, the door was opened again.
It was Ian.
He stood there looking in at me. I was about to tell him he should stay out. She might see him or hear him.
But he wasn't coming in. He just wanted to tell me something.
"I hate her guts," he said. "I hate her more than anything or anyone."
Then he backed up and closed the door, leaving me in the darkness with lightning flashing on my windows and crackling in every carrier of my room.
17 The World Is Full of "Should Haves"
. Ian would blame Grandmother Emma for the rest of his life. Although I never thought him capable of great love for anyone, even great love for anything, including science. I realized quickly he was capable of great and deep hatred. It would fester and grow inside him and, despite the pride he took in his self- control, his command of himself, his emotions and thoughts, it eventually would overtake him and turn his pursuit of happiness into a vain dream. It was as if a filter tinted dark gray had fallen over his eyes and changed his view of the world. In the end I pitied him more than I pitied any of us, which was ironic because I always believed Ian would find success and contentment. He had such confidence and clear ambition. How could he ever get lost?
It would be years before the pieces would come together for me. Each moment, each action, even each word, would have to be placed correctly so the puzzle would make sense. At the time I was too young to understand, but gradually, small revelations would help me guide my hands so I could fit it all together to create the picture I would live with, the picture locked in my heart like the two pictures of Mama and Daddy sealed in my birthday locket.
It began almost immediately after Grandmother Emma had left my room that night she caught Ian examining me. I try, even now, to understand her. Ian, of course, refused to do that. Understanding is, after all, the first giant step toward forgiveness and that's a place he will never go.
"I can forgive the fox that eats the rabbit, the snake that eats the mouse, because I can understand them. They have a selfish purpose, yes, but it's the natural order of things. It's beyond their control," he told me once. "They're not mean about it. They're aggressive and determined so they can survive, but Grandmother Emma is like a fox that kills a rabbit and leaves it to rot. It's aggressive and determined just to satisfy some meanness.
It would take me a long time to decide if he was right or wrong.
Some of the pieces of the puzzle Ian brought to me. He was far more perceptive and aware at the time, of course, and he could turn his microscopic eyes and probing mind on the events like a giant flashlight, washing away deception, confusion, half truths, and excuses. I was at an age when I would miss much that went on around me. Innuendos, subtle meanings, a look or expression, even a blank stare or words unspoken were within Ian's vision.
He was sullen and still, poised, but keenly listening and watching, recording every second, every gesture, even, detail with a genius for detecting I'm sure every policeman, detective, law enforcement agent would love to possess. He fed everything to me, revealing what he learned and thought like some translator at a high level government meeting between dignitaries of two foreign countries.
And so to his best ability and mine, we first came to understand the chronology of the series of events that would change both our lives forever and ever.
After what she had seen going on between Ian and me, Grandmother Emma called the cabin.
Mama and Daddy had been talking, discussing their marriage and Daddy's bad behavior. Daddy answered the phone and Grandmother Emma described what she saw happening in my bedroom.
My parents put everything aside and rushed out of the cabin to come home.
The hail and rain thunderstorms were still swirling about, even growing stronger, when the inclement weather cell, as Ian called it, thickened.
Daddy was driving.
He took a sharp turn too quickly and the car lost traction. It hit the guardrail broadside and turned over the railing.
The car rolled and bounced nearly one hundred yards before it rested upside down. The lights fortunately remained on and a passing motorist saw it almost immediately after the accident had occurred.
Fire trucks, tow trucks, and an ambulance arrived with the police.
Both Mama and Daddy were alive and taken to the hospital.
It was nearly four in the morning before Grandmother Emma was woken by the phone call from the highway police.
She called for Felix, her driver, dressed, and left for the hospital in Honesdale, Pennsylvania.
She had left instructions for Nancy and at seven AM. Nancy came to our bedrooms to tell us our parents had been in a car accident. Nancy had been told to be sure I took my medicine. She had also been instructed to stay close to me and be sure Ian did not come into my room or have any contact with me until I was washed, dressed, and down to breakfast. She stood there and recited all that to me as if she were reading an official proclamation.