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“You’re sorry?” Walter cries. “What the hell, Holly?”
She can’t remember the last time she heard her grandfather raise his voice. “I… don’t understand.”
He holds his trembling palms out to her. “I am the one who gave you that stupid DMT pen.”
“You didn’t tell me to vape it in my office.”
“You wouldn’t have vaped it anywhere if it weren’t for me.”
“Oh, Papa. I just keep screwing up.”
“No, Koala. No.” He drops his hands. His face falls. “This is my fault. I’ve been so shortsighted. And so unfair to you. Loading my tired old hopes and aspirations on your shoulders. I’ve been very selfish.”
Holly leans forward and squeezes his bony elbow. “Hardly. You inspired me. I’m every bit as committed to establishing the value of psychedelic therapy as you are. Maybe more so! After all, psychedelics saved my life in Peru.” She sighs. “And if you’ve been shortsighted, then I’ve been blind.”
Walter says nothing for a few seconds. Finally, he pats the back of her hand and smiles. “Is it possible that I might have passed some of my pigheaded genes along to my favorite granddaughter?”
“Your only granddaughter. And we don’t need a DNA test to know that you did.”
They sit in silence. Walter’s touch is comforting, but his remorse only makes her feel more responsible. “I went to the site of the accident,” she finally says, needing to get it off her chest.
Walter cocks his head. “Which accident?”
“Dad’s.”
He pulls his arm free of her hand. “That was a waste of gas.”
“I wanted to see it.”
Walter shrinks in his seat, withdrawing the way he always does at the mention of his son’s death. “Don’t you have enough on your plate right now?”
“I do. But lately, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“It’s those hallucinations, isn’t it?” He shakes his head miserably. “The damn DMT again… What a mistake it was to lead you back down that road.”
“The DMT isn’t to blame. Neither are you, Papa. I’ve been avoiding memories of the accident ever since we came back from Peru. When I thought I was healed. But I think the stress of everything that’s been going on keeps pushing that piece of unfinished emotional business to the surface.” Or maybe my guilt about Elaine is forcing me to face my guilt about Dad? “I can’t hide from it any longer. I need to know.”
“What?” Walter grunts. “What is it you think you need to know?”
“It makes no sense. That stretch of freeway is straight as an arrow. And the weather was good that day. What could’ve made Dad crash the car like he did?”
“We’ll never know.”
“The police must have investigated.”
He nods slightly. “They interviewed you. Don’t you remember?”
She shakes her head. “In the hospital?”
“The day after. The doctors kept you in for observation. You were still concussed, but otherwise physically all right.”
“Were you there?”
“Of course.”
Holly’s chest flutters. “What did I tell them?”
He looks away. “That you couldn’t remember anything about the accident.”
