The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time - Mark Haddon [39]
Then I stopped reading the letter because I felt sick.
Mother had not had a heart attack. Mother had not died. Mother had been alive all the time. And Father had lied about this.
I tried really hard to think if there was any other explanation but I couldn't think of one. And then I couldn't think of anything at all because my brain wasn't working properly.
I felt giddy. It was like the room was swinging from side to side, as if it was at the top of a really tall building and the building was swinging backward and forward in a strong wind (this is a simile, too). But I knew that the room couldn't be swinging backward and forward, so it must have been something which was happening inside my head.
I rolled onto the bed and curled up in a ball.
My stomach hurt.
I don't know what happened then because there is a gap in my memory, like a bit of the tape had been erased. But I know that a lot of time must have passed because later on, when I opened my eyes again, I could see that it was dark outside the window. And I had been sick because there was sick all over the bed and on my hands and arms and face.
But before this I heard Father coming into the house and calling out my name, which is another reason why I know a lot of time had passed.
And it was strange because he was calling, “Christopher . . . ? Christopher . . . ?” and I could see my name written out as he was saying it. Often I can see what someone is saying written out like it is being printed on a computer screen, especially if they are in another room. But this was not on a computer screen. I could see it written really large, like it was on a big advert on the side of a bus. And it was in my mother's handwriting, like this
And then I heard Father come up the stairs and walk into the room.
He said, “Christopher, what the hell are you doing?”
And I could tell that he was in the room, but his voice sounded tiny and far away, like people's voices sometimes do when I am groaning and I don't want them to be near me.
And he said, “What the fuck are you . . . ? That's my cupboard, Christopher. Those are . . . Oh shit . . . Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”
Then he said nothing for a while.
Then he put his hand on my shoulder and moved me onto my side and he said, “Oh Christ.” But it didn't hurt when he touched me, like it normally does. I could see him touching me, like I was watching a film of what was happening in the room, but I could hardly feel his hand at all. It was just like the wind blowing against me.
And then he was silent again for a while.
Then he said, “I'm sorry, Christopher. I'm so, so sorry.”
Then he said, “You read the letters.”
Then I could hear that he was crying because his breath sounded all bubbly and wet, like it does when someone has a cold and they have lots of snot in their nose.
Then he said, “I did it for your good, Christopher. Honestly I did. I never meant to lie. I just thought . . . I just thought it was better if you didn't know . . . that . . . that . . . I didn't mean to . . . I was going to show them to you when you were older.”
Then he was silent again.
Then he said, “It was an accident.”
Then he was silent again.
Then he said, “I didn't know what to say . . . I was in such a mess . . . She left a note and . . . Then she rang and . . . I said she was in hospital because . . . because I didn't know how to explain. It was so complicated. So difficult. And I . . . I said she was in hospital. And I know it wasn't true. But once I'd said that . . . I couldn't . . . I couldn't change it. Do you understand . . . Christopher . . . ? Christopher . . . ? It just . . . It got out of control and I wish . . .”
Then he was silent for a really long time.
Then he touched me on the shoulder again and said, “Christopher, we have to get you cleaned up, OK?”
He shook my shoulder a little bit but I didn't move.
And he said, “Christopher,