“Well, I suppose I ought to include the fact that I bit him. I grabbed his finger and bit it and that’s when he slapped me. Then I put my sweater back on and we drove home. You may have noticed that Duff had a Band-­Aid on his finger the next couple of days.”

“No, I didn’t notice.”

“Maybe he took it off when you were around. Anyway, I was going to tell you before, but he kept insisting he’d only been joking.”

“Well, I’m sure he was joking.”

She shook her head doubtfully. “It sure didn’t seem that way at the time. People don’t usually hit you that hard when they’re joking, at least that’s been my experience.”

“It wasn’t a very nice joke, that’s certain. I’ll speak to Duff about it as soon as we get back.”

“Oh, Mama, don’t make me a squealer.” She finished the candy bar and licked her fingers. “I’m sure he won’t try the same joke again, now that I’d be expecting it.”

“Do two things for me,” I said. “Don’t say anything to your father about this. We don’t want to worry him with the problems of you kids. And don’t go anywhere alone with Duff for a while—just in case he might try the joke again.”

“Okay,” she said. She seemed more cheerful now that she had unburdened herself. “Actually Duff has gotten so weird lately that I don’t even like to be near him. Sometimes he acts as though he doesn’t know where he is—the way he goes around mumbling to himself. Have you noticed?”

I hadn’t. I was heartsick as I drove back on to the turnpike. I just didn’t know what to do, what to say to Duff, or even Jack. It was obvious that I had to get Duff to a psychiatrist as quickly as possible. But was there a psychiatrist in Cainesville or Ashland? There were certainly competent men around Scarsdale, but our house was gone, signed away for six months. Would Mr. Shaffer reconsider? Should we tell him that he had to reconsider because our son had molested his sister—

“Mama, watch that truck!”

We got back to the farm somehow. It was shortly after eight in the evening when I pulled in the drive. Duff came rushing out to greet us and began asking rapid and half incoherent questions about the trip and our states of health. Did we have a good time? Were we tired? Was the weather good? Then he looked directly at me and he knew that I knew.

“How’s Dad?” Franny asked him. She seemed willing to be his friend again.

“Okay.” He looked away and began unloading the luggage.