quiet for most of the drive home.
Finally, Dad said,
“I should have told you the first day.”
“Yes.”
“And I should never have put anything on his skin.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked into the back seat.
Ben was asleep.
Then I turned back to my father.
“Keep the notebook.”
He looked at me in surprise.
“What?”
“The notebook. Keep noticing things.”
I gave him a small smile.
“But from now on, you only observe and tell me.”
“And the treatment?”
I looked at him.
“We leave the treatment to the doctor.”
Dad smiled.
And for the first time, I understood that the man I had almost thought had lost his mind had simply noticed something I had missed.
He had tried to help in the wrong way.
But it was his unusually careful attention that helped us discover my three-year-old son’s problem early enough to do
