When next my mind became clear, I was standing at Madame's side holding her hand. She nodded her head to me and I remember throwing the crocus I picke... for him into the darkness. The bruised and withered flower became my final offering to my father's grave."My next memory is of someone jostling me and bowling me over flat at a train station. He was very large and most likely never saw me. I could barely see his face; his belly blocked his features from my view as I sat on the train platform. "Mommy is Mommy," explained seven-year-old Nancy, "so Alexander's mommy is like a second mommy. So Mommy is Mommy One and Alexander's mommy is Mommy Two."There was not a trace of doubt in her voice, there rarely was. She was just explaining the order of the universe to her Daddy.As always, at the end of such an explanation, there was either the implied, or the actual, "Right, Daddy?"And, as always, I gave the expected response of either, "That's right," or "Very good."Hearing this name made. More

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