The lasting shock from that day was not the seizure—no surprise his sister might succumb to a contorting madness, what with all the erotic chaos, the trembling energy, the too-muchness of that home, of childhood itself—but he was surprised to find his father even capable of that kind of terrible calming care, or his mother capable of such seriousness, such focus. This was the quality of attention he had always sought from each, and now, with certainty, he knew the cost.
