She also sympathized with Dylan. To explain the intricacies of their situation and to convey an effective warning that performing the miracle of folding from here to there in public would be exposing them to great danger, he needed Shepherd to be more focused and more communicative than Shepherd seemed capable of being.
Consequently, to establish that public folding was taboo, Dylan chose not to explain anything. Instead, he attempted to establish by blunt assertion that being seen folding out of one place or folding into another was a shameful thing.
‘Shep,’ said Dylan, ‘you wouldn’t go to the bathroom right out in public, would you?’
Shepherd didn’t respond.
‘Would you? You wouldn’t just pee right here on the sidewalk where the whole world could watch. Would you? I’m starting to think maybe you would.’
Visibly cringing at the concept of making his toilet in a public place, Shepherd nevertheless failed to defend himself against this accusation. A bead of sweat dripped off the tip of his nose and left a dark spot on the concrete between his feet.
‘Am I to take your silence to mean you would do your business right here on the sidewalk? Is that the kind of person you are, Shep? Is it? Shep? Is it?’
Considering Shepherd’s pathological shyness and his obsession with cleanliness, Jilly figured that he would rather curl up on the pavement, in the blazing desert sun, and die of dehydration before relieving himself in public.
‘Shep,’ Dylan continued, unrelenting, ‘if you can’t answer me, then I have to assume you would pee in public, that you’d just pee anywhere you wanted to pee.’
Shepherd shuffled his feet. Another drop of perspiration slipped off the tip of his nose. Perhaps the fierce summer heat was to blame, but this seemed more like nervous sweat.
‘Some sweet little old lady came walking by here, you might up and pee on her shoes with no warning,’ Dylan said. ‘Is that what I have to worry about, Shep? Shep? Talk to me, Shep.’
After nearly sixteen hours of intense association with the O’Conner brothers, Jilly understood why sometimes Dylan had to pursue an issue with firm – even obstinate – persistence in order to capture Shepherd’s attention and to make the desired impression. Admirable perseverance in the mentoring of an autistic brother could, however, sometimes look uncomfortably like badgering, even like mean-spirited hectoring.
‘Some sweet little old lady and a priest come walking by here, and before I know what’s happened, you pee on their shoes. Is that the kind of thing you’re going to do now, Shep? Are you, buddy? Are you?’
Judging by Dylan’s demeanor, this haranguing took as a high a toll from him as it levied on his brother. As his voice grew harder and more insistent, his face tightened not with an expression of impatience or anger, but with pain. A spirit of remorse or perhaps even pity haunted his eyes.
‘Are you, Shep? Have you suddenly decided to do disgusting and gross things? Have you, Shep? Have you? Shep? Shepherd? Have you?’
‘N-no,’ Shep at last replied.
‘What did you say? Did you say no, Shep?’
‘No. Shep said no.’
‘You aren’t going to start peeing on old ladies’ shoes?’
‘No.’
‘You aren’t going to do disgusting things in public?’
‘No.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, Shep. Because I’ve always thought you’re a good kid, one of the best. I’m glad to know you’re not going bad on me. That would break my heart, kid. See, lots of people are offended if you fold in or out of a public place in front of them. They’re just as offended by folding as if you were to pee on their shoes.’
‘Really?’ Shep said.
‘Yes. Really. They’re disgusted.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, why are you disgusted by those little cheese Goldfish?’ Dylan asked.
Shep didn’t reply. He frowned at the sidewalk, as though this abrupt conversational switch to the subject of Goldfish confused him.
The sky blazed too hot for birds. As sun flared off the windows of passing traffic and rippled liquidly along painted surfaces, those vehicles glided past like mercurial shapes of unknown nature in a dream. On the far side of the street, behind heat snakes wriggling up from the pavement, another motel and a service station shimmered as though they were as semitransparent as structures in a mirage.