And maybe your husband too, I thought. I was still thinking of what Vivian had told me, still burning over Frank’s secretiveness. For some reason, Vivian’s information made me think of the night Sylvia had slept over. Was Frank sleeping with her and keeping that a secret too?

We smoked a couple of cigarettes and watched Brian. Now and then, with an exaggerated gesture of delicacy to convince his mother, he would reach out and stroke a flower and give her a smile that said: “See, I’m not hurting them.” Again, I felt a twinge of jealousy.

“I’m going to hate to see you leave,” I said impulsively. “This time, let’s not lose touch with each other.”

“You’re the hermit. If you can tear yourself away from your sanctuary, you’re welcome at our place anytime. All three of you.”

After an hour at the zoo, Brian got bored. When I picked him up and carried him to the car, he buried his fingers in my hair and murmured, “Fire.” I thought of Regina’s hands in Sylvia’s hair and how I had overreacted to it. I cautioned myself about overreacting to everything Vivian had told me.

When we got home, I called Mrs. Lorimer. She said Regina was outside playing, so I told her to send her home when she came in. Brian took a nap for an hour, then went out to play in the sandbox Frank had put in the vacant lot. Around four-thirty, Gloria went up for a shower while I set up the charcoal grill in the backyard. I began making the salad in the kitchen. As I was washing the vegetables in the sink, I looked out the window and saw a patch of red move behind the tree near the sandbox. I stood still, squinting, trying to make it out. What I saw next was the point of a stick protruding from the other side of the tree. Just as I was struck by the possibility of what it was, Regina jumped out and cracked the stick over Brian’s head. He went forward, face down in the sand. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. Regina dropped the stick and ran. I flew out the back door yelling for her to stop, but she continued on without a backward glance. When I got to the sandbox, I saw the blood running down each side of Brian’s ear. But what frightened me more was his face: his mouth was drawn back in a sob that couldn’t escape and his skin was purple from the lack of air. I grabbed him up and slapped his back until his breath returned in little hitches; finally, he was able to scream. I carried him into the kitchen, where I patted his head with a wet dish towel. The profusion of blood terrified me, and I yelled for Gloria.

“My God, what happened!”