Spied the .38 again, but left it be. The mere thought of holding the damn thing was too much. I’d been cured of guns during a run-in with my father�...�s 20 gauge shotgun when I was fifteen. But that’s another story for another time.”Brookpark, Ohio. 1970. Another time.Saturday afternoon.I was watching TV in my bedroom. I saw rapid movement in the hallway outside my door. The old man had flashed by and into my parent’s bedroom. The old man never moved fast. Ever.“Uh, oh.”The night before I’d gotten. Did she have them around anyone else?”“My mom? Not that I can recall. They were all around me. I think the same was true for my sister.”“And they have their depressive episodes when you aren’t around.”“Am I the cause?” I asked.“Maybe ‘trigger’ is a better word. The cause is whatever’s wrong with them. Stress just triggers it.”“I suppose I see the difference. You’re probably right.”“There’s another reason it took me three days to think this through. You.”“Me?”“Yes. You favor your mom in looks,. More

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