outside the rotational axis and will, within seconds, go careening off catastrophically –
And suddenly big Mr. Dunn decided the game wasn’t fun anymore. The ride was over. From his own queasy expression, the spinning may have been making his own head turn in a way that felt not quite right. He stopped spinning, managing as he did so to avoid the edge of the pool by just inches, and put Frankie down. He deposited the child on the warm bricks behind a chair – as if that would keep him from crawling into the pool – and walked away without another glance in Frankie’s direction. Perhaps off to the bathroom. Or to order himself a fresh cocktail, to calm his spinning head.
Ten-month-old Frankie Dunn sat silently for a few seconds, unblinking, catching his breath and letting the world reorient itself around him. His head wobbled gently from side to side, as though the momentum of the adventure were still working itself through his system. His expression was uncertain. Had that been fun, or terrifying? He checked to his left and right, searching for a familiar face or voice. Or even a smell. Finding no source of immediate comfort, he decided abruptly that he was scared and angry, and began to cry.
At the sound of Frankie’s distress, James’s head popped up from its resting place as though tugged by a string. But his eyes were still closed. “Ned,” he called. “Can you please go pick up Frankie. Please? ” The timber of his voice was painful. “I need two minutes of sleep.”
Ned stopped his pacing immediately. He seemed to realize where he was, and he began stepping carefully toward his little brother.
Devon and her mother stopped. Reversed direction. They retreated to the far corner of the pool, where they regrouped with Devon’s father.
Crisis avoided. Stand down.
Ned picked up Frankie, who was immediately comforted. He stopped crying, and he looked at his older brother with relief and adoration. My God, you’re exactly who I was hoping would pick me up.
Ned gave Frankie an affectionate poke in the belly, making Frankie burble with happiness. Then Ned poked his own naked belly and made a burbling sound himself. Frankie saw the connection and cackled with delight. My belly, your belly. Outstanding. Show me once more, won’t you?
Ned obliged him, still talking. “Did Daddy give you a nice airplane ride?” he asked. Frankie made a non-committal daa sound, as though the merits of Mr. Dunn’s airplane rides were still under review. “It looked like fun,” Ned said to him, nodding with encouragement.
Devon glanced at her mother, who shrugged. So he wasn’t catatonic. He was just pacing around. He saw his dad swinging his little brother. He’s okay.
But then, all at once, nothing was okay.
In a single, fluid motion, Ned Dunn shifted his infant brother from the crook of his arm to his hands, and he took hold of one ankle and one wrist. “Like this?” Ned asked, smiling brightly. Frankie giggled a half-hearted agreement. He was still in his older brother’s care, after all. Without pausing, Ned began spinning Frankie around in full-arm-length circles. Just as his father had. Except that these circles were smaller – and therefore faster – than Jerry Dunn had been making. Which Devon hadn’t thought was possible.
Stand up. Crisis back on .
The Hall family moved.
It was time for Frankie’s Big Ride.
The Injury Was Severe
Peter Hall was sprinting now. He had come this way before, and he was surer on his feet. Surer of the path he needed to take. Over those legs, around that chair, over that straw-hat-covered head and the upturned face with the arm over it (in the back of his mind, information presented but ignored: Nina and Florin ). He was moving so much faster now, faster than the first time, but he wondered whether it would be fast enough. Ned was already very close to the edge of the pool, and Peter was sure the boy was going to tumble in
And suddenly big Mr. Dunn decided the game wasn’t fun anymore. The ride was over. From his own queasy expression, the spinning may have been making his own head turn in a way that felt not quite right. He stopped spinning, managing as he did so to avoid the edge of the pool by just inches, and put Frankie down. He deposited the child on the warm bricks behind a chair – as if that would keep him from crawling into the pool – and walked away without another glance in Frankie’s direction. Perhaps off to the bathroom. Or to order himself a fresh cocktail, to calm his spinning head.
Ten-month-old Frankie Dunn sat silently for a few seconds, unblinking, catching his breath and letting the world reorient itself around him. His head wobbled gently from side to side, as though the momentum of the adventure were still working itself through his system. His expression was uncertain. Had that been fun, or terrifying? He checked to his left and right, searching for a familiar face or voice. Or even a smell. Finding no source of immediate comfort, he decided abruptly that he was scared and angry, and began to cry.
At the sound of Frankie’s distress, James’s head popped up from its resting place as though tugged by a string. But his eyes were still closed. “Ned,” he called. “Can you please go pick up Frankie. Please? ” The timber of his voice was painful. “I need two minutes of sleep.”
Ned stopped his pacing immediately. He seemed to realize where he was, and he began stepping carefully toward his little brother.
Devon and her mother stopped. Reversed direction. They retreated to the far corner of the pool, where they regrouped with Devon’s father.
Crisis avoided. Stand down.
Ned picked up Frankie, who was immediately comforted. He stopped crying, and he looked at his older brother with relief and adoration. My God, you’re exactly who I was hoping would pick me up.
Ned gave Frankie an affectionate poke in the belly, making Frankie burble with happiness. Then Ned poked his own naked belly and made a burbling sound himself. Frankie saw the connection and cackled with delight. My belly, your belly. Outstanding. Show me once more, won’t you?
Ned obliged him, still talking. “Did Daddy give you a nice airplane ride?” he asked. Frankie made a non-committal daa sound, as though the merits of Mr. Dunn’s airplane rides were still under review. “It looked like fun,” Ned said to him, nodding with encouragement.
Devon glanced at her mother, who shrugged. So he wasn’t catatonic. He was just pacing around. He saw his dad swinging his little brother. He’s okay.
But then, all at once, nothing was okay.
In a single, fluid motion, Ned Dunn shifted his infant brother from the crook of his arm to his hands, and he took hold of one ankle and one wrist. “Like this?” Ned asked, smiling brightly. Frankie giggled a half-hearted agreement. He was still in his older brother’s care, after all. Without pausing, Ned began spinning Frankie around in full-arm-length circles. Just as his father had. Except that these circles were smaller – and therefore faster – than Jerry Dunn had been making. Which Devon hadn’t thought was possible.
Stand up. Crisis back on .
The Hall family moved.
It was time for Frankie’s Big Ride.
The Injury Was Severe
Peter Hall was sprinting now. He had come this way before, and he was surer on his feet. Surer of the path he needed to take. Over those legs, around that chair, over that straw-hat-covered head and the upturned face with the arm over it (in the back of his mind, information presented but ignored: Nina and Florin ). He was moving so much faster now, faster than the first time, but he wondered whether it would be fast enough. Ned was already very close to the edge of the pool, and Peter was sure the boy was going to tumble in
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