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The storms that came and stayed and never left。
4
Let me turn it all back to the day I was born； since from what I've read about sociopaths； it's fairly genetic。 My grandmother was probably the carrier of the gene； since she went crazy and ended up in what they called a nursing home over in Massachusetts； but which I found out … later in life； of course … was an impoverished sanitarium； the sort of which nightmares are born。 My mother told me that it was my grandfather's fault for driving her to do things … again； not kill； for we have never been murderers … just things that caused people to believe my grandmother was insane。 When I was born； my mother told me when I was eleven or twelve； I was a difficult birth and my own umbilical cord practically strangled me as I exited her body。 She said I was blue in the face for nearly a minute from lack of oxygen before the doctor got me coughing。 Then； I spent the first two weeks of my life in the hospital； for I was a month premature and no one thought I would live。
Sometimes I think this is why I'm a sociopath。 I've seen documentaries on PBS about baby monkeys who are separated from their mothers for a short time； and this makes them seem without conscience （if that is truly what a sociopath is； although I don't believe it）。 My mother said she didn't touch me for the first month； she was terrified I'd die； and because she had already lost one child … two years earlier … in some kind of crib death scenario； she feared holding her first son； me。 My father had to do all the touching and picking up； and even … my mother told me … when I had to nurse from her breast； she was too terrified。 Instead； my aunt became my wet nurse … she who had； just five months before； given birth to twins and seemed to have milk enough for the entire population of the island。 There were times； when I was older； that I wished my aunt had taken me back with her to her home on the mainland。
Times when I hated the island。 Hated my mother and father。 Hated looking at the Montgomery house … the Montgomery Mansion； the Montgomery palazzo； the Big Place … staring down at us。
But I suppose all this anger came about because of those first few days of life。
These things aren't spoken of much in families … how we each came to be。 My mother suffered through bouts of depression； particularly in the winter； and she would stand in front of her bedroom window； looking out across the Sound； her face a shimmering reflection in the thick windowglass； and tell me all about myself。
She told me that when I was six weeks old； she realized I had never really cried； at least not the way babies were supposed to。 Instead； I would turn red； and my mouth would open； and I'd scream。 That's how she'd know I was hungry or needed changing。 Because she was so grateful to have a child after she felt God had taken away her first in retribution for youthful transgressions； she tried not to think about what my lack of tears might mean。
As she'd tell this kind of story； I'd shift unfortably on her bed； wishing she'd release me from this kind of intimacy … the closeness of her depression； the morbid way her mind would pick over my birth and early years。
〃I'm so sorry that you turned out this way；〃 she said； once； her hands going up to her face。 〃I'm happy you're so smart。 Not like your father。 But this madness that es over you。。。〃
I remained silent； letting her have her feelings。 I didn't understand then to what she referred … I was not mad。 I took the ferry to go to school over on the mainland and did quite well in school。 The ferry takes an hour and a half in the winter； and only runs twice a day … for school hours； since Outerbridge had no school of its own。 Thus； I spent many nights with my Aunt Susan in Rhode Island； and learned more about my mother's mother than I had ever wanted to know。 I also managed … through my cousin Davy … to make friends off…island； friends who believed I was like them。 And I had a lot of friends as a child。 Although I was not considered handsome at first … at least by my mother who found my hair to be too ominous in some way； my eyes too blue and perhaps too sharp； my manner arrogant （even as an eight…year…old； she'd called me that） … I began learning the secret of athletics early； and applied myself to molding my body the same way I went about molding my mind： I studied and read and found the boys who seemed to know what they were doing； and I gravitated towards them。 I learned what they knew by nature。 I was uncoordinated in most sports； until I realized that； as in all things； it was about breathing。
This is one of the secrets of life： it's all about breathing。
5
Voices in the dark：
〃It's all right； I know you。 I know what we both want。〃
〃Shut up。 Just shut up。〃
〃e here。 e here。 Let me help you。 It's all right。 It feels good。〃
〃No； not like this。 No。〃
〃I've been so lonely。〃
〃Oh。〃
〃Wanting this。〃
〃Oh。〃
〃Since the first time I saw you。〃
〃Oh。〃
6
Have you ever felt that you would do anything to be with someone？
I almost feel sorry for you； if you haven't。
7
The purity of life is in the secrets … they're simple； they say everything； they are there for anyone； but we must wake up to the purity first in order to understand the secrets。
My pursuit of physical excellence began early。 I tackled solitary athletics since this seemed best for my character。 They were also cheaper。 My family was poor … have I mentioned that？ Not poor poor。 Not 〃out in the street with no food〃 poor； but poor nonetheless。 My mother's first husband had been rich； but had been a gambler。 My mother … I should call her Boston； for that's what my father called her even though her name was Helen … had been the fifth daughter in a wealthy family who had married well the first time around。
But that man … someone I had never in my life heard of beyond knowing he existed … apparently lost all his and Helen's money； and soon she found my father； a good man one would suppose； who began his work life as a groundskeeper at the Smithsonian Museum in Washington； DC； but ended up working as a gardener for rich folk。 It paid well enough … like I said； we weren't poor poor。
My father probably would've had more money； but he had a sister who was dying … for years … down in Annapolis； Maryland； and he was her only support。 So； according to my mother； half of his ine went to her uping。 〃She has the longest…lived cancer I've ever heard of；〃 she'd say； sometimes right in front of him。
Of course； this wasn't all there was to it； but if I tell you all the secrets of the world at once； you'll either be dazzled or overwhelmed； and there's no point in making it all explode right now。 You'll want to know why breathing is one of the secrets of life。
All right； do you know how breathing is voluntary？ I've heard that people with dementia sometimes end up forgetting how to breathe。 That's a terrible way to die； although one would suppose that any method of dying would be awful。 Well； breathing is the essential ponent of acplishing anything。
I observed this early … I was on the school bus； and I noticed a little girl next to me who was terrified of an uping test we were about to tak