PeterWatts_Blindsight

Peter Watts 137 Blindsight
What really scared me was that for the first time ever, Dad was
fighting back.
"You do not force something like that onto someone. Especially
without their knowledge." My father never shouted—his voice
was as low and level as ever—but it was colder than I'd ever heard,
and hard as iron.
"That's just garbage," Helen said. "Parents always make
decisions for their children, in their best interests, especially when
it comes to medical iss—"
"This is not a medical issue." This time my father's voice did
rise. "It's—"
"Not a medical issue! That's a new height of denial even for
you! They cut out half his brain in case you missed it! Do you
think he can recover from that without help? Is that more of your
father's tough love shining through? Why not just deny him food
and water while you're at it!"
"If mu-ops were called for they'd have been prescribed."
I felt my face scrunching at the unfamiliar word. Something
small and white beckoned from the open garbage pail.
"Jim, be reasonable. He's so distant, he barely even talks to
me."
"They said it would take time."
"But two years! There's nothing wrong with helping nature
along a little, we're not even talking black market. It's over-thecounter,
for God's sake!"
"That's not the point."
An empty pill bottle. That's what one of them had thrown out,
before forgetting to close the lid. I salvaged it from the kitchen
discards and sounded out the label in my head.
"Maybe the point should be that someone who's barely home
three months of the year has got his bloody nerve passing judgment
on my parenting skills. If you want a say in how he's raised, then
you can damn well pay some dues first. Until then, just fuck right
off."
"You will not put that shit into my son ever again," my father
said.