Having been speechless earlier by Terry’s news, I was now blindsided by my father’s appearance. He looked absolutely ragged—pale and unshaven, the skin on his face wilted like a rotten plum, fleshy and discolored in spots. Gray streaks around his

“Dad, we missed our exit!” Grant twisted in the seat and looked out the rear view window. “You have to turn around. We’re driving the wrong way!” The father wiped his mouth. “I know son . . . I know.”