Mommy looked back at her then (Jessica, are you all right? You look pale, sweetie, what is it?) and she had forced herself to smile and say she was hungry. Sometimes, when she told her parents about herself and her feelings, they acted real funny, and once she had heard them talking about taking her to see a doctor. Now they were so happy, she didn’t want them to be upset about her. So she kept quiet, and actually began to feel a little better by the time they pulled into Burger King for lunch. But something remained, a fear deep inside where she couldn’t hide from it, no matter how hard she tried. What she had seen was real, that was what scared her the most. It hadn’t been a dream, or at least she didn’t think so. No, she was positive she was awake when it had come.

She made sure to take Johnny in with them to lunch, and put him in his own chair right next to her.

After lunch, the slight rain that had fallen since they left the house had changed to flurries, dusting the trees and roofs of houses along the highway. They had de- cided to take the long, scenic route to interstate 90 and finally up 95 through Maine. It would take them almost twice as long as the direct route near Montreal to Quebec City, but it was worth it. Neither of them had seen that part of New England before.

They were going over the Catskills in New York now, really more like hills than mountains in this part of the country with their long, rolling sides pushing out like the stomachs of pregnant beasts, and the tops blunt and weathered with age. And the snow continued. Helen thought it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen; something so cold and yet so full of life. There had been snow in Rochester, of course, but it was of such an utterly different kind she almost didn’t recognize it. Their snow in the suburbs had been wet and heavy and often dirty, the kind of slush found in city gutters. It was all the same to her, noisy and crowded. She had grown up in the New York countryside with the cornfields and farms and had never felt comfortable among large groups of people. It had been the same with her father. He was a hard man, but as shy and awkward in social situations as he was strong and sure of himself in the fields. Yet he was given to moments of extraordinary gentleness and kindness when the mood touched him, especially with her. She had been his favorite.