“Yes.”

“Why did he say she was dead?”

“To save you from pain.”

Cal considered. “What did my father do to make her leave?”

“He loved her with his whole mind and body. He gave her everything he could imagine.”

“Did she shoot him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t want her to go away.”

“Did he ever hurt her?”

“Not that I know of. It wasn’t in him to hurt her.”

“Lee, why did she do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know or won’t say?”

“Don’t know.”

Cal was silent for so long that Lee’s fingers began to creep a little, holding to his wrists. He was relieved when Cal spoke again. The boy’s tone was different. There was a pleading in it.

“Lee, you knew her. What was she like?”

Lee sighed and his hands relaxed. “I can only say what I think. I may be wrong.”

“Well, what did you think?”

“Cal,” he said, “I’ve thought about it for a great many hours and I still don’t know. She is a mystery. It seems to me that she is not like other people. There is something she lacks. Kindness maybe, or conscience. You can only understand people if you feel them in yourself. And I can’t feel her. The moment I think about her my feeling goes into darkness. I don’t know what she wanted or what she was after. She was full of hatred, but why or toward what I don’t know. It’s a mystery. And her hatred wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t angry. It was heartless. I don’t know that it is good to talk to you like this.”

“I need to know.”

“Why? Didn’t you feel better before you knew?”

“Yes. But I can’t stop now.”

“You’re right,” said Lee. “When the first innocence goes, you can’t stop—unless you’re a hypocrite or a fool. But I can’t tell you any more because I don’t know any more.”

Cal said, “Tell me about my father then.”

“That I can do,” said Lee. He paused. “I wonder if anyone can hear us talking? Speak softly.”

“Tell me about him,” said Cal.

“I think your father has in him, magnified, the things his wife lacks. I think in him kindness and conscience are so large that they are almost faults. They trip him up and hinder him.”

“What did he do when she left?”

“He died,” said Lee. “He walked around but he was dead. And only recently has he come half to life again.” Lee saw a strange new expression on Cal’s face. The eyes were open wider, and the mouth, ordinarily tight and muscular, was relaxed. In his face, now for the first time, Lee could see Aron’s face in spite of the different coloring. Cal’s shoulders were shaking a little, like a muscle too long held under a strain.

“What is it, Cal?” Lee asked.

“I love him,” Cal said.

“I love him too,” said Lee. “I guess I couldn’t have stayed around so long if I hadn’t. He is not smart in a worldly sense but he’s a good man. Maybe the best man I have ever known.”