we woke early, had breakfast on the road and it was afternoon by the time we got to my dad’s...

we woke early, had breakfast on the road and it was afternoon by the time we got to my dad’s house. Sis had called and said he’d had a fall, that someone should go up there to check on him. Bring oranges, she said. He likes oranges. We pulled up, and he was out front with a pair of hedgeclippers, snapping away at a shrub. My dad is a solid man, squat, thick, built like a fighter. The car pulled up to the driveway and he stopped what he was doing to watch us. He was sweating, breathing hard. There was a big bruise on the side of his head. The kids hugged him hello, and he went ahead and gave Harriet a kiss, and everyone went inside. It’s embarrassing, he said. He was on a step and the stone was loose and that was all there was to it. He could’ve been 22 or 108. Anyone putting their weight on that stone was going for a tumble. Harriet sat at the table with a towel and a knife and started skinning an orange. I looked hard at him. I’m fine, he said. There’s nothing to worry about here. He told us to make ourselves comfortable, that he was going down for a nap. The kids watched TV and played with the radio while Dad rested in the backroom. I went outside and I started sweeping up the bits of leaves and snapped branches. I bagged them then took the sheers into the garden shed. When I went back inside, Harriet was on the couch, reading one of dad’s books from the library. I sat down next to her and finished the orange slices. That’s when we heard the noise from the bedroom. A big cry and then that sick sound of a thud. The kids looked up and I took off into the hall. Dad was on the floor, tangled up in his sheets. Dad, I said. I stood over him, trying to help him up, but his arms were swinging, and he was shouting and crying for me to get off of him. I caught his fist on the jaw and the shock of it knocked me backwards. Harriet had to help me untangle him and get him back into bed. It took him a little while to calm down. Harriet made tea and we turned on the bedroom television. After a while, he said he was sorry for knocking me one. I asked him what the hell was that? I’d never seen anything like that before. He said it almost never happens. What never happens? I lose track sometimes. Where I am, what I’m doing. Like not waking up fully from a dream. We looked at him. What do you remember. What did you think you were doing? Dad shook his head. I’m not… there was… it’s hard to hold on to it. But I was climbing something. Like a ladder or a tree. I was trying to get to this height. And I was doing it because there was something under me. Something I needed to get away from. And then I realized I was at the top and that thing was still coming. And that’s it. That was it for me. There was nowhere left to go.