L'Engle, Madeleine - A Ring of Endless Light (18 page)

Norberta wouldn't let him. If I trusted him to come when I called, I had to trust him all the way. He swung around so suddenly that I almost let go, but not quite, and we went racing back to Norberta. Njord dove and dumped me, and I came up to the surface, sputtering, and both Njord and Norberta began to splash me, making loud laughing noises. 268 "Calm them down," Adam said. "Tell them you want to ask them some serious questions." What should I ask? What would be serious to both the dolphins and to me-and to Adam? Dearest Norberta and Njord. Do you live in the now, or do you project into the future, the way I do, far too often? I felt a gentle puzzlement coming from Njord. Maybe he's too young to understand about the future. When Rob was a baby, everything was nowfor him. Now embraced both yesterday and tomorrow. Norberta? Again I felt puzzlement, not puzzlement about her understanding, but my own. Norberta wasn't sure I'd be able to understand. Try me. I rolled over onto my back and floated and Norberta moved her great body toward me until we were touching, and I was pressed against the beautiful resiliency of dolphin skin. And a whole series of pictures came flashing across the back of my eyes, in the dream part of my head. The ocean. Rain. A rainbow, glittering with rain. Snow, falling in great white blossoms to disappear as it touched the sea. And then the snow turned to stars, stars in the daytime, drenched in sunlight, becoming sunlight. and the sunlight was the swirling movement of a galaxy and the ocean caught the light and was part of the galaxy and the stars of the galaxies lifted butterfly wings and flew together, dancing 269 And then Norberta, with Njord echoing her, began making strange sounds, singing sounds, like the alleluia sounds Basil had made, and they did something to my understanding of time, so that I saw that it was quite different from the one-way road which was all I knew. Norberta was right. There was much she understood that was beyond anything I'd ever dreamed of. She and Njord slapped the water with their flukes in farewell and vanished over the horizon. I rolled over and began to tread water. "What did you ask them?" Adam swam to me. "About time. Adam, their time and ours is completely different." "How?" "Norberta tried to tell me, but it was in a language I didn't know, and it translated itself into images, not words." Treading water, he held out his hands to me. "Hold. And try to tell me what she told you." I held his hands tightly. Kept moving my legs slowly. Closed my eyes. Imaged again what Norberta had imaged me. I heard Adam sigh, and opened my eyes. "Non-linear time," he said. "She was trying to tell you about non-linear time." "What's that?" I was still holding on to the beauty of Norberta's images, so it didn't quite hit me that Adam and I had communicated in the same way that I communicated with the dolphins. "Time is like a river for most of us, flowing in only one direction. Get John to explain it to you. Physics isn't my strong point. But there's a possibility that time is less like a 270 river than a tree, a tree with large branches from which small branches grow, and where they touch each other it might be possible to get from one branch of time to another." He let go my hands. "I'm not explaining it well." "Do you mean, maybe for dolphins time is less-less restricted and limited than it is for us?" "Isn't that what Norberta was trying to tell you?" "Yes. Adam, did you see the butterflies?" He nodded. "Like the one we saw at the cemetery." "You saw it, too?" "And so did your grandfather." "And Grandfather would know what Njord and Norberta were singing." "Dolphins don't sing." Adam's voice was flatly categorical. "Only humpbacked whales sing." "Call it what you like," I said. "To me it was singing." He was staring out to the horizon, where they had vanished. "Granted I've never heard dolphins sound like that before. Hey, are you sure you don't want to go in for marine biology?" "It's a thought," I said, "but somehow I have a hunch that if I went scientific about them I might not be able to talk with them." "You may be right. Maybe that's why I resisted you, because I'm too scientific."

"No," I replied quickly. "I was wrong. I went at you without thinking what I was doing." "And today?" My body felt as though the water had instantly dropped several degrees. "Did you really see what Norberta showed me?" "I think so. You're cold, sweetie, and your lips are blue. 271 Let's swim in and have some tea and then we can check it out." "Okay." He'd called me 'sweetie' again. It was as beautiful as the dolphins singing. "Then I have to spend the rest of the afternoon working on my report. Forgive my repetition, but you've thrown my project for a loop." "Do you mind?" "Minding doesn't have anything to do with it. I simply did not expect that John Austin's kid sister would be thunder and lightning and electricity." Cautiously, I asked, "Not-not like whoever it was last summer?" "Not like. Very definitely not like. Okay. I'll come along back over to the stable in plenty of time for that moussie or mucksie-" "Moussaka." "Yah. I'll be there for it." Imitating the dolphins, he dove down and swam underwater, emerging yards away. The song of Norberta and Njord echoed in my ears. And it was joy. And joy, Grandfather would remind me, joy is the infallible sign of the presence of God. But I couldn't tell Adam that. Not yet. �*� When I got home, Mrs. Rodney wasn't there. Almost imperceptibly, we'd become used to having her around most of the time. Mother asked me to take a glass of iced tea in to Grandfather. He had the back of the hospital bed up high, and his Bible on his lap. I pushed the table tray close to him for the iced tea. 272 His smile radiated sunshine, like Rob's. "Thank you, dear my Caro." "I'm Vicky, Grandfather." Usually I just let him go on thinking I was whoever it was he thought he saw, but there was something about him this afternoon that made me feel I had to be Vicky, not my mother or grandmother. "Vicky-Caro-it doesn't matter. I want you to do something for me, something only you can do." Despite the heat, my hands felt cold. "What, Grandfather?" He put his hand up to his brow. "I get fuzzy. Sleepy. Not aware. I'm afraid-" "Of what, Grandfather?" If I kept on calling him Grandfather he might remember who I was. "That I won't know when to let go. That through in ertia I'll hold on to these mortal coils when I should be shedding them. That I'll hold on and be a burden. Caro." He reached out for me and his grip was strong about my wrist. "When it comes time for me to let go, you must tell me. Promise me." "Grandfather-" He dropped his hand. "This disease is affecting my mind. I didn't expect that. No one told me that would happen. So, if I don't know, if my time comes and my mind won't- Caro, you'll know when it's time for me to� let go." "Grandfather, I'm only Vicky, please-" For a moment he looked at me with recognition. "Vicky. Yes. But you must ask Caro, then. She'll tell you." "Grandfather, she's dead," I said frantically. "I can't ask her." "You can, you can." He stretched out his hand again 273 and gripped mine tightly. "The line on the other side of time is very fine; it is easily crossed. We are notbound by linear time." For a moment I was flashed a vision of Nor- berta sending me images. Did Grandfather somehow know what had happened? He reiterated, "Ask Caro. She'll know. I'm not afraid of dying. I'm as eager as Paul." "Paul?" Paul who? I was almost as confused as he was. "Of Tarsus. The tentmaker Paul. I'm ready. I'm just afraid that if my mind blurs I won't be able to let go at the right moment." "Oh, Grandfather, you will, you will." Tears began sliding down my cheeks. "Don't cry, Vicky." Again for a moment he was himself, completely with me. "When you're a little older you'll write about it. But you must tell me. If you listen carefully, Caro will help you. Do you promise?" His eyes glittered as they held mine. "I'll-I'll try, Grandfather." "Listen to the deep and dazzling darkness and you'll know." "I'll try." "Don't be afraid. The ring of pure and endless light is coming closer, closer . . ." He closed his eyes. "Caro will help you listen." What was I to do? He was asking something impossible. I couldn't go to Mother with it. It would hurt her. The only person I could tell was Adam. �*� He came at six and there wasn't a moment to be alone with him. I called across the singing to him, and saw only 274 that he was engrossed in the music, and his baritone was warm and rich and happy. Rob went up to bed, then Suzy. Adam rose. "I'd better be getting along. Vicky, walk me out to my bike, will you please? I want to ask you something." When we got outdoors, the screen door shutting softly behind us, I asked, "What?" "You want to talk to me?" "Did you know?" Of course he knew, knew my need in the same way that the dolphins knew. "Can you come to the beach for a while now?" "It's late--I'm not sure my parents-" He looked at his watch. "Can it wait till morning?" "Yes." It could. Now that I knew I could talk to Adam, the burden did not feel quite as heavy. "I'll have to come early, because of reading with Grandfather, and then I'm going out with Leo." "How's Leo doing?" "He's hurting. But he's growing, too. I'm getting really very fond of him, As a friend." "Friends are what make the wheels go round, Vicky. See you tomorrow, early. Can you make it at six? Down on the beach by the big rock." "I'll be there." �*� He was waiting for me. The morning was cool and pearly. "What happened," he asked, "to upset you so deeply?" I told him. He started walking along the beach. I walked beside him. Finally he said, "That's a rough one." 275 I told him about Grandfather and the Eskimos, and how they knew when to say goodbye and let go. Adam looked down at the sand, scuffing it with his bare toes, and nodding. "We're out of touch with death. I think the Eskimos are right. And your grandfather." "But, Adam-for once I dofeel like a child. I'm not old enough to know things like-like when it's time for someone to die." "I don't think it has anything to do with age. And, Vic"-he reached for my hand and held it in a strong clasp-"I know it's hard to face, but remember that your grandfather's slipping in all kinds of ways. To tell him when it's time to die is something he never should have asked you to do, and if he had been himself, he wouldn't have asked it." Grandfather--when he washimself-had quoted John Donne to me; Other men's crosses are not my crosses. But that was about Zachary, warning me not to take on too much. Adam was right. This wasn't my cross. It was something Grandfather would never have asked me to pick up and carry. Or- I said, slowly, "How do we know how much we're to do for other people? Or for how long? I mean-like Simon of Gyrene carrying Jesus' cross for a while, and then putting it down." "I suppose that's somewhere in the Bible?" "Yes. All I mean is, we are meant to help each other, but not to feel that we have to do it all, all by ourselves. I guess maybe dolphins are more like Eskimos than we are. Maybe they don't think about death coming, the way we do. 276 Maybe they just know. And maybe, when the time comes, Grandfather will know." "Let's hope," Adam said. "I haven't been much help." "Yes, you have. I'm back in perspective again." "Good. Can you stay there?" We both began to laugh. "For at least five minutes," I promised. He turned a cartwheel. "I'll call you tonight." I went home, holding on to the promise of hearing his voice in not too many hours, and accepting just how much that voice meant to me. I went down to Grandfather's cove and sat on my rock for a while. To meditate. To be. Like the dolphins. Like Grandfather when he was fully Grandfather. And what I knew was that when the time came, it I was meant to say anything to Grandfather, then I would know. It was like meditation. It wasn't something I had to do. �*� I packed a picnic lunch for Leo and me. We went in his launch to the mainland, borrowed Cor's pickup, and went to the hospital to get blood for Grandfather. It was too soon for the two of us to give blood again, but Leo assured me that more than enough had been donated by the Islanders. This time he'd checked with his mother and we didn't go in through the emergency room but by the main entrance. Leo had me sit in the lobby, on a deep leather sofa that nearly swallowed me in its embrace. I lay back and watched people coming and going. Visitors carrying flowers. Going into the gift shop. Coming out with packages. People being discharged, coming out of the elevators in 277 wheelchairs, little suitcases or pots of flowers in their laps. People coming to be admitted, some carrying their own cases, some clinging to someone else. Some looked tired or pale, but they could all walk in. Suddenly I recognized the woman I had seen in the emergency room with the limp child, the child I'd been afraid might be dead. The child was holding her mother's hand, pale, with deeply shadowed eyes, but very much alive. I think the woman recognized me, too, because she smiled at me and pushed the child toward me. "Sit there, hon, and wait. Momma'll be right back." The child sat down, almost disappearing into the soft cushions, and turned to smile at me. She wasn't as much younger than Rob as I'd thought, and when she smiled she reminded me of my little brother. "Hi," I said. "My name's Vicky. What's yours?" "Robin." We sometimes used to call Rob Robin when he was little. "Momma and Poppa call me Binnie. Are you sick?" "No, I'm fine. Leo-my friend-and I've come to pick up blood for my Grandfather."

"He's the one that's sick, then. I've had lots of transfusions. There's something wrong with my blood." I wondered if she had leukemia, and I knew that any kind of cancer is much worse in children than in old people, because cancer cells grow at the same rate as the body cells. Somehow I found myself very relieved that she was called Binnie and not Robin. Even her voice sounded like Rob's, and it was scary because her paleness was in such contrast to the golden tan Rob's skin had turned in just a few weeks. 278 "My poppa doesn't want me to have transfusions," Binnie confided. "It's against his religion. So Momma smuggles me in and we keep it a secret. This morning Poppa flushed all my pills down the toilet. He said it was God's will. If I don't have the pills I get all jerky and then I pass out. So Momma's come for more. My poppa loves me, though. He and Momma just don't agree about God." Leo came out of the elevator and his hands were empty and his face looked pasty-white and his eyes had faded to almost no-color. His voice was muffled with rage. "The inept, incompetent idiots don't have the blood." "Why?" I asked incomprehendingly. "Some kind of emergency last night and they used up all their supply. I thought we'd contributed enough to take care of the entire state." "I got blood last week," Binnie said, "but Momma says I don't need it today. Just my pills." Leo's voice was muffled. "That's good, kid. Vicky, some nincompoop of a technician said your grandfather isn't an emergency, and until the supply of blood comes up to normal we'll have to bring him up to the hospital. In other words, it has to be an emergency or it doesn't count. You'd think they'd be glad to have us preventan emergency, but no. I'm going to call your father." He turned on his heel and vanished into a phone booth. Binnie's mother came around the corner. "Okay, Binnie lovey, I have your pills." She patted her handbag. "Thanks for looking after her, Miss-" "Vicky Austin. She reminds me of my little brother. His name's Rob." "Let's hope he doesn't have as much wrong with him as my Robin." 279 I felt almost guilty. "It's her grandfather who's sick, and they won't give him any blood because he's not a mergency." The woman chicked. "Some people's idea of an emergency . . . Come along, Binnie-bird. We'll go to the water fountain and you can take a pill. 'Bye--wha'd you say your name ..." "Vicky," Binnie said quickly. " 'Bye, Vicky. I'm Grace. Come on, Bin." And she took the little girl's hand. As they left, Leo came out of the phone booth. "Your dad says he'll see what he can do. Meanwhile, we're to come on back to the Island or whatever we want." "Leo-" I pulled myself up out of the sofa. "It's nice of you to do all this for Grandfather." "I told you. I love him. I'd do anything for him. Listen, how about if we go to one of the little islands with that super picnic of yours, and swim and relax?" "Sure, that sounds like fun." "You don't sound very enthusiastic." "Oh, Leo-I was just worried about Grandfather and what would happen if he hemorrhaged ..." "We'd bring him here." "I don't want him to come here. I hate it." He took my hand. "Don't borrow trouble, Vicky. Your dad will get blood as soon as possible." "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't project frightening things. Grandfather once told me that the reason I do this is that I have a storyteller's imagination, and that it's both blessing and bane. Thanks, Leo. Let's go." We returned the pickup to Cor, who was indignant about the blood. 280 "Dr. Austin'll fix it," Leo said. "Thanks, Cor. I'm bringing a group to the mainland tomorrow for shopping. How about a game?" Cornelius Codd's face brightened. "I'll lick the stuffing out of you." "Unh-unh," Leo said. "This time I'm going to win. Wait and see." To me he said, "I win just often enough so Cor can't relax." We left Cor cackling as we went to the launch. Leo chose one of the small uninhabited islands. There was a curve of beach where we landed. Otherwise, the island was largely rocks, with a few stunted trees driven into strange shapes by the wind. We scrambled about the rocks till we were too hot. Then we had a swim. The thought of the dolphins flicked against the corners of my mind, but something told me (did they?) not to call them. Anyhow, we didn't swim out far because Leo wasn't sure about the undertow. We sat on a rock, barely shaded by one of the trees, and ate our picnic. We talked about Leo's going to Columbia, and how strange living in a big city was going to seem to him. We talked about the sea, and about ships. And when it was time to go he asked, "Can I kiss you?" I shook my head. "I'd rather not." "Why?" "I keep telling you." "I bet you let Zachary kiss you." "I don't 'let' him." "But he kisses you?" Leo pursued. I didn't answer. He grabbed me and pressed his lips fiercely against 281 mine, and I shoved him hard and broke away. "Don't spoil things!" He shouted, "Who's spoiling them?" "You are. Leo, friendship's the most important thing in the world. Please, please, let's just be friends for now." "Do you let Adam kiss you?" "Adam doesn't kiss me." "Never?" "Never. Okay? Adam has all kinds of schooling to get through before he can get serious about anybody. He and I are friends. You and I are friends. Zachary feels he has to kiss everyone. It doesn't mean anything. I think it's just a substitute because he doesn't know how to be friends. I want to go home now, please. I want to make sure Grandfather's all right." As we shoved off, I said, "If I can't go out with you without having it turn into a wrestling match, then I'm not going out with you again." He put one hand lightly over mine. "I'll play it any way you want." "Honest?" "Honest." But I wasn't sure, and Suzy's accusations echoed in my ears. Leo was super as a friend, but he didn't make that little thing shaped like a lizard run up and down me anywhere at all. �*� Zachary called on Tuesday to tell me about his first really solo flight. All the blase sophistication was gone; he sounded as excited as Rob. He asked me to come flying with him on Wednesday, but Adam had already called about Wednesday. 282 "Saturday, as usual?" "Okay, sure." But was anything ever 'as usual' with Zachary? Whenever the phone rang we thought it might be the hospital saying their supply of blood was replenished and we could pick it up. Daddy explained to us that drastic blood shortages were not that uncommon, and if the worst came to the worst we could always take Grandfather to the mainland. I told him about Binnie, and he said it sounded as though she probably did have some form of leukemia, though what kind or how bad he couldn't tell. The pills might well be for epilepsy, which could be the least of her problems, unless her father kept flushing her medication down the toilet. "These religious nuts." Suzy sounded ferocious. "They ought to be put in jail." "Hold on, Suze." John used his most reasonable voice. "I don't agree with throwing out the pills which would control epilepsy, but what about keeping somebody whose central nervous system has blown, say, from an aneurism, on life-support machines? Keeping an irrevocable vegetable alive is against myreligion." Suzy stuck her underlip out stubbornly. "It's not the same. What Binnie's father's doing should be against the law." "It probably is. But so is unplugging a vegetable from a life-support system against the law. Right, Dad?" "True," Daddy agreed. "And we can't go making value judgments against Binnie's father, because we aren't positive of her diagnosis." 283 "When I'm a doctor," Suzy said, "I want medical decisions to be a lot clearer than they are now." "So do we all, Suzy." Daddy sighed. "So do we all." �*� Adam and I worked with Norberta and Njord Wednesday morning. That is, we worked for as long as they were willing to work, which meant that when it stopped being a game for them, they invented games of their own for us to play. At one point Njord and I were turning somersaults together in the water, with me clinging to him for dear life. Norberta interrupted us, nudging me, and I put my arms around her and closed my eyes. Listened. Saw. Ocean, with no land in any direction. A night sky dipping down to the water on all four horizons, a sky alive with stars which moved in a slow and radiant dance, rising from the east and dipping down into the west, so that I felt the turning of the planet, and that this, too, was part of the dance, and so were the dolphins, and so were Adam and I. I pressed my cheek against Norberta's vibrant coolness and shivered with the beauty of it. Finally Norberta gave me a goodbye nudge, called Njord with a small slap of her fluke, and they were gone. I tried to show Adam some of what I had seen. "The problem is, what seems a big deal for us is the way they do things all the time." Adam did a Basil-type water cartwheel. "C'mon, Vic. Jeb's asked us to have lunch with him. I've shown him all our reports, and he wants to talk with you." I felt a flutter of nervousness and excitement. But even though I didn't know Jeb very well, I trusted him. 284 He took us across the Island to the Inn for lunch, saying we'd have no privacy at the cafeteria. We had the same table at the Inn that Leo and I had had, but it was bright daylight instead of rainy darkness, and the dining room was stuffy. We ordered salads and iced tea, and Jeb thanked me for the sonnet. "I read it to Ynid," he said, and smiled at me. "You know, Vicky, there are not many people who would understand my doing that, and there are not many people I'd tell it to. But I assume Adam has made it clear to you that your ability to understand dolphins is unusual?" "It seemed so-so-" "I know. So natural. But it takes most of us months if not years to be in tune with dolphins as you are." "So right," Adam agreed. "And her reports of the experiments with the dolphins are much more vivid than anything I could write." "Puts you in your place, eh?" Jeb said. Adam screwed up his face in a funny sort of grimace. "I'm not sure what-or where-my place is." Jeb handed his empty iced-tea glass to the waitress. "In marine biology, that's clear. But it's an extremely wide field and widening daily. You have a few more years before you have to decide precisely where to specialize . . . My thanks," he said to the waitress who had refilled his glass. Her face had been tired and cross when we ordered. Now it untensed and she smiled. Jeb had that effect on people, with his warm brown spaniel eyes with the pain not quite hidden behind them, and a smile that made you feel he understood and liked you, just the way you were. "And you, Vicky?" The generous gaze turned to me. "I guess I'm glad I have a lot of years before I have to 285 decide. This day and age doesn't make much provision for poets in garrets." "Judging by the reports on dolphins you wrote for Adam, your prose is excellent. You never use a word you don't need, and your imagery is precise and vivid. Read a lot." "Oh, I do." "And when you get to college, major in English. The great writers are your best teachers. If you take my advice, you won't go in for those so-called creative-writing courses. You'll write anyhow, and you'll never again have a chance like the four years of college to soak yourself in writers of all kinds and sorts. And a lot of people who teach creative writing tend to be manipulative, or to want to make the young writers over in their own images. By the bye, your prose in your dolphin reports reminds me of O'Keefe's, and I consider him a latter-day Lewis Thomas or Loren Eiseley." I could feel my face getting hot. "Oh-wow-" I murmured inanely, and added, "My father's writing a book on his laser research." "I've read a few of his articles," Jeb said. "He lacks your sense of the poetic, but his language is tidy, and his experiments are breaking new and important ground. Yet I understand he's not going to continue his research?" "Not full-time. He's always done some, and corresponded with other researchers in his field, like Shasti and Shen Shu. But he's a people doctor." Jeb rubbed his hand over his bald spot. "God knows we need those. People doctors, as you call them, doctors with both skill and human compassion, are becoming an endangered species. Anyhow, Vicky love, keep on with your 286 writing. You've got the gift, and a gift is to be served." "I'll try," I promised. Jeb was talking to me as though I were as old as Adam or John. As though I were a grownup. As though I mattered to him. Then he began asking me questions about Basil, about Norberta and Njord, and before I knew it we were the only ones in the dining room. "Better go before they throw us out." Jeb handed Adam some bills. "Here, pal, you go do the work, and bring Vicky and me each a mint. Two mints, please." While Adam was at the cashier's desk, Jeb said, "You're good for him. He was pretty badly hurt a year ago." I nodded. "How much did he tell you?" "About-about Joshua being killed. And he felt responsible for it because of some girl." "He's learned to trust you, then. Good. Adam's a very private person by nature, and last summer intensified it. I'm a friend of Dr. O'Keefe's, so I already knew most of the story, and it was through O'Keefe that we got Adam here this summer. He'll make a brilliant scientist if he even begins to fulfill his promise. I'm glad he has you for a friend." Me, Vicky. Not 'all of you Austins' the way it usually is, but me, myself. And Jeb's warm look made me feel very me. And before dinner I had a full half hour to go down to the beach and sit on the rock and absorb the goodness of the day, and be part of the rock and the sea and the sky. �*� Friday night while we were drying dishes the phone rang. Suzy, as usual, grabbed for it. "Adam!" She sounded 287 pleased; then, "Adam, what's wrong?" She turned from the phone. "John?" John was out on the porch, wiping the table. "Vicky-" Suzy sounded surprised. "He wants to speak to you." I started to snap at her, then shut my mouth and took the receiver she was thrusting at me. "Hi-Adam?" He sounded hoarse. "Jeb's in the hospital." "What-" "He was in the village, walking back to his car, and a motorcycle hit him." "Oh-Adam-" "He has a fractured skull and he's unconscious and we can't get a thing out of the doctors. Listen, is your father there?" "Daddy-" I gave him the phone. There was a long pause while he listened. Then he said, "The CAT scan was all right? That's a big weight off our minds, then, no worry about a subdural hematoma . . . He responded to the pressure of your fingers? Are you sure? . . . All right, hold on to that good thought." John had come in from the porch. He squeezed out the wet sponge and stood leaning against the sink, listening. He and Suzy were probably understanding everything Daddy was saying. He touched Daddy's arm. "Tell Adam we're all with him. And we'll get Grandfather's prayers going. They're sure-fire." Suzy gave John a funny look. "We'll
all pray," Mother said quietly. Daddy said, "Let us know if there's any change. Are you back on the Island? . . . Feel free to call us any time. And try to sleep." 288 When he hung up, I asked, "Is Jeb going to be all right?" "We won't know for a while. The sooner he regains consciousness, the more hopeful the prognosis." I didn't like the sound of his voice. A shadow seemed to move across the kitchen windows. I kept on wiping the knives although they'd been dry for a long time. "Well, but-" I said at last. "You don't think he's going to die?" "A skull fracture's pretty critical, but as long as the CAT scan was okay he's got a good chance if he doesn't stay unconscious too long." John added in a low voice. "Better he die than-" His voice trailed off. "Be a vegetable?" I asked. John simply nodded. Mother turned off the water, which had been running all this time. Even though the Island is surrounded by water, Grandfather's drinking supply comes from a well and we're careful not to waste it. 'Wonder who'll be the next to go?' the woman had asked at Commander Rodney's funeral. Maybe it wouldn't be our grandfather after all. Maybe it would be Jeb Nutteley, struck down as wantonly as his wife and child. I had an irrational desire to run across the Island to the dolphin pens. But if Ynid needed to be told, she would surely know from Adam. "I'm going to help Father get ready for bed," Daddy said. Suzy demanded, "So, are you going to ask him to pray for Jeb?" "Why not?" Daddy responded mildly. 289 "You mean, it may not do any good but it probably won't do any harm?" Daddy's voice was still mild. "I think it well may do good." Suzy snorted and turned away from Daddy, so that she was facing Mother, Mother put her hand against Suzy's cheek. "I believe in prayer. You know that." "But you don't even know Jeb! You've never even met him!" "What's got into you?" John demanded sharply. Suzy still sounded angry. "Prayer didn't keep Jeb from being hit by a motorcycle. It didn't stop Grandfather from having leukemia." "Prayer was never meant to be magic," Mother said. "Then why bother with it?" Suzy scowled. "Because it's an act of love," Mother said. �*� Adam called again in the morning. Jeb was still unconscious, but his vital signs were stable. John's boss, Dr. Nora Zand, was at the hospital and would stay all morning. Someone else would take over in the afternoon. Adam had been asked to remain at the station and care for the dolphins. Suzy had answered the phone as usual and was relaying the information. Now she thrust the phone at me. "He wants to speak to you." Adam simply asked, "How's your grandfather?" I knew what he meant. "Daddy spoke to him last night. I'll go in to him in a few minutes. He's usually clearest in the morning." And I trusted Adam to know what I meant. "How's Ynid?" 290 "She's not eating." "Oh, Adam-" If Ynid was not eating, that meant that Jeb was not all right. "I'll call again if there's any news. Or send a message by John." We hung up and I went in to Grandfather. I thought he looked very pale. "Grandfather-" He looked up from the Bible and lavished his smile on me. "Adam's boss, Jeb Nutteley, was hit by a motorcycle and he's got a fractured skull and he's unconscious." "Your father told me." He rubbed his finger lightly over the open page of the Bible. "Will you pray for him?" Prayer. An act of love, Mother had said. "Of course," Grandfather replied. "How doyou pray for someone like that?" Grandfather held out his open hand, palm up. "There are many different ways. I simply take him into my heart, and then put him into God's hand." Again he smiled. "That sounds like rather an athletic feat, doesn't it? Nevertheless, it's as close as I can come to telling you." For a moment I had a flash of understanding. "Thanks, Grandfather. That helps. I'll come read to you after breakfast." In the kitchen Mother was opening the oven door. "Where're the hot pads?" Rob handed her one. "Okay, breakfast," John said brusquely. "I'll bring out the butter." There was something comfortingly normal about sitting around the big white table. It was hard to realize that Jeb 291 was lying unconscious in the hospital, instead of standing by the dolphin pens, throwing fish to Ynid. I closed my eyes and thought of Jeb and his gentle kindness, and then I imaged Ynid, and Una and Nini. They understood acts of love. They would know how to pray for Jeb. "What's the matter,Vicky?" Suzy asked. I opened my eyes. "I think I was praying." "Do you have to look as though you're dying?" I didn't answer back. I helped myself to a blueberry muffin. Rob pushed the butter toward me, asking, "What're you doing today?" "Read to Grandfather. Then nothing till this afternoon. I'm going flying with Zachary." This was not the time to be telling Mother that Zachary was likely to be doing most of the flying. If I hadn't told her after the first time Zachary was at the controls, I couldn't very well tell her now. And there wasn't anything to tell, really, with Art right there at the dual controls, able to correct anything Zachary might do wrong. Suzy interrupted me. "Are you praying again?" "Why are you so hipped on the subject?" I snapped back. "I was just thinking." �*� When I went in to Grandfather the clarity his mind had had earlier was all muddied. He called me Caro, and he thought he was in Africa. "It's time we sent Victoria away to school," he urged. "She's been having too much dysentery and I'm worried about her." "Grandfather," I asked loudly, "do you want me to read to you?" He moved his fingers restlessly over the sheets. "I can't find the notes I made yesterday . . ." 292 I opened the book and started to read, hearing the words but having no idea of the content. I read for about five minutes and Grandfather's hands quietened and his eyelids drooped. I tiptoed out. By the time Zachary came for me, I knew how Suzy felt about getting out of the house. I wanted to get away from Grandfather's confusions. I wanted to get away from the two worry lines between Mother's eyes. Mrs. Rodney had remarked on Grandfather's pallor and called the hospital. They hoped the supply of blood would be replenished by Monday. Meanwhile, in an emergency we could always bring Grandfather in. "Not yet," Mother said. "Not unless we absolutely have to." "I agree." Mrs. Rodney still had her hand on the phone, "Leo can go get blood first thing Monday morning." And I wanted to get away from Daddy, who had shut himself in the science stall. He'd received a bulky load of scientific tomes and was working hard on his book.