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names. Without saying Uncle Simon was naked. I told

how he had jumped up and threatened to bash

Grandad with his fist. I spoke so quickly, it turned my

throat into a tunnel with sandpaper walls. Mommy

had to give me a glass of water to finish

"Isaac," Mommy said. "It's come to pass. I feel

it. I know it."

"I'll get out there," he said. He went for his

boots.

"Be careful," she cried after him. "What's come to pass?" I asked.

Mommy shook her head and sat hard on a chair,

lowering her forehead to her propped hand.

"Mommy?"

She shook her head and sighed. Just as she

lifted it to speak, we heard the most ghastly, animal

scream. The look in Mommy's face matched my own

terror.

"Isaac," she cried and the two of us ran out of

the house.

The shouting was coming from the area behind

the barn where Uncle Simon had his wonderful

garden. Mommy reached for my hand as the two of us

ran across the yard. When we turned the corner of the

barn, we saw Uncle Simon. He was barefoot, wearing

only jeans and holding a scythe in the air, poised to

bring it down on Grandad, who was sprawled on the

ground.

Flowers everywhere had been slashed with that

scythe. The garden was decimated. Daddy was on the

sidelines, his hand extended toward Uncle Simon,