My father had Ben sitting on a chair.
My son was fully dressed, but one pant leg had been rolled up slightly.
There was a brown substance on his lower leg. On the table sat a small bottle of iodine, an egg, some cotton, and a little
bowl.
“What are you doing?”
Dad turned around.
“Sarah, wait.”
I rushed toward Ben. Part of his skin was red. Ben was crying and trying to pull his leg away.
“Get away from him.”
“Listen to me.”
“What did you put on my child?”
“It’s an old home remedy. I thought maybe…”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“You thought? On my three-year-old?”
“I wasn’t trying to
hurt him.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Dad went silent.
That silence frightened me more than anything. I picked Ben up, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door. Dad called after
me.
“Take the notebook.”
I didn’t even turn around.
