He felt dizzy. All the misplaced, random thoughts that were swirling around in his mind confused him a great deal. Now, on top of that there was a voice, louder than it all, crying out to him to do something that he didn't want to do, and wasn't sure if he was emotionally prepared to do.
This voice asked him if he was a coward. He asked himself if he was a coward, and then he pretended to think about it. He looked down at the kitchen table he had so diligently cleaned and asked it if he was a coward. He looked outside at the purple crocus flower in his flowerbed and asked it if he was a coward. He had been brave enough to face his thoughts and sort through them. He had been strong enough to uncover a part of himself that he hadn't thought about for what seemed like forever. Now he was wondering whether to listen to this voice within him, which was challenging him to do something that he had made sure he wouldn't do. But of course, Mark was only pretending to hesitate.
The purple crocus had told him that he wasn't a coward, anyhow. The crocus wanted him to go see his father. And if he was being honest and logical with himself, his grandmother would have wanted him to go see his father as well.
