Peter thought Lilah was going to go camping with him over spring break. For the last three years they’d gone together to Death Valley, and they’d been planning to do it again. The wilderness is the arena of Peter’s competence. He and Lilah had their best times away from population. But as the time for their trip grew closer, so did Lilah’s feeling that she shouldn’t go. She realized that right then Peter couldn’t appear competent to her. If she went with him she would fight with him. She told him so: “I can’t go with you now. If I go I’ll argue with you. You should go with Saul instead. You two can have some meaningful time together.”

Peter’s attempt to persuade her to just-go-and-not-argue was brief even for him. So he asked Saul and a day later he had his son’s reply. Lilah was first surprised that he offered the trip as an invitation, and then she was surprised at herself for being surprised. Saul’s answer: “Gee, Dad…sounds great. Love to camp with you sometime, but that’s not a convenient week. It’s spring break, you know? A lot of my friends go to school, and their parents won’t let them party on school nights. So break is my opportunity to get together with them…And since I’m not going to school, you and I can camp just about any time. So I’ll take a rain check, okay?”

That wasn’t the end of it. Lilah isn’t sure how it came about, because she saw less and less of Peter, but it turned out that Saul and Peter did go to Death Valley for three of the nine days of break. Peter reported the trip to her with some satisfaction. They’d had some good hikes and some talks. Saul agreed to try school again; this time in Berkeley. The high point of the trip was the night they camped at the end of a canyon. They had a good fire and Peter shared a bottle of Moutai with Saul. Moutai is 106 proof alcohol made from wheat, sorghum and water. They probably drank 375 ml. Saul was then 13½.

Lilah and Peter last saw each other a few weeks afterward, and last spoke a month after that, when Peter returned from another Portals weekend and sought more clarity. Lilah’s disrespect for him had finally reached a level even he could not ignore, and he turned quietly away. She was careful not to summon him back. She had decided not to call Social Services; she thought they would be disruptive at best. She had tried to be heard every way she could. She didn’t want to stay around any longer and watch.

She was friendly but careful during their final phone call. She said she was sorry that Saul found middle school so frightening, but she was glad that Peter and Saul had “made a commitment to get him educated.” She listened when Peter told her how much he would prefer it if Saul went to a private high school, but Saul wanted independent studies at Berkeley High. That would be an odd choice for a freshman, Lilah thought, but she didn’t even understand how the boy could go to high school without completing eighth grade. She thanked Peter for the call. Four months passed before she heard of him again.

That’s not to say she didn’t think of him. Scarcely a day passed without her thanking Whomever for getting Peter out of her life. She saw him in his pickup truck at least six times but he never noticed her, which was typical of his inattention. Once she even called him, to relay a message left on her machine. It was from someone begging off a Portals program, so she knew he was still doing that. And when she called the phone was answered by Zeke, so she figured he and Valerie still lived there. Zeke told her Peter wasn’t home, offered to take a message, and said “you got it” in response to her words, but she knew Peter wouldn’t get it. She chuckled a bit at Peter the Portals recruiter, who set up a telephone message system where the caller is deceived into thinking he has communicated.

She even thought of him at back-to-school night. She wondered for a moment if Saul could be enrolled there, and she looked around the auditorium for Peter as the opening speech ended. There was a crowd, but she figured she’d see him if he were there. She didn’t see him. He wasn’t there.

The preliminary address that night, before the parents started the circuit of classrooms, was about the hideous coincidence of three student deaths in the few weeks since school had begun. Two kids were killed in car accidents. One student at east campus was stabbed to death. The principal talked about how deeply the faculty and administration were affected, and how readily social and mental health services were available. The audience was quiet. The deaths were unrelated, and the school certainly wasn’t to blame, but the loss of any youngster is a devastation.

On Friday evening Lilah’s son greeted her with solemn news. That morning they’d had the death of a fourth student reported to them. A freshman taking independent studies. He had been missing four days before his body was found, floating face down in the marina. His name was Saul something.

“Sam,” Lilah began, “do you think it could be Peter’s son?”

Sam’s face crumpled with concern. “I thought there was something familiar about this. And there’s a weird message from Mary.”

Lilah went downstairs and pressed the white button. The answering machine whirred and played the voice of Sam’s old therapist. “This is for Lilah and Sam. Hi you guys. It’s Mary. I just heard some disturbing news and I thought about you. I hope you’re doing okay. If you want to talk, call me.”

The next morning’s newspaper had details. It was Peter’s Saul. He never came home from the Saturday midnight movie. His body was discovered Wednesday morning by a woman rower, but it wasn’t identified until Thursday, when Peter filed a Missing Person report. The police said there were no signs of foul play.

Peter is miserable right now. He’s almost immobilized with guilt. But his is a quick mind and a resilient nature. It won’t be very long at all before Peter has reinterpreted events so that he isn’t responsible for any of them.