she demonstrated what she saw

“They’re pretty sure how it happened,” she said. “The auto gave such a sudden terrible jerk”—she jerked so violently that both children jumped, and startled her; she demonstrated what she saw next more gently: “that your father was thrown forward and struck his chin, very hard, against the wheel, the steering wheel, and from that instant he never knew anything more.” She looked at Rufus, at Catherine, and again at Rufus. “Do you understand?” They looked at her. After a while Catherine said, “He hurt his chin.” “Yes, Catherine. He did,” she replied. “They believe he was instantly killed, with that one single blow, because it happened to strike just exactly where it did. Because if you’re struck very hard in just that place, it jars your whole head, your brain so hard that—sometimes people die in that very instant.” She drew a deep breath and let it out long and shaky. “Concussion of the brain, that is called,” she said with most careful distinctness, and bowed her head for a moment; they saw her thumb make a small cross on her chest. She looked up. “Now do you understand, children?” she asked earnestly. “I know it’s very hard to understand. You please tell me if there’s anything you want to know and I’ll do my best to expl—tell you better.” Rufus and Catherine looked at each other and looked away. After a while Rufus said, “Did it hurt him bad?” “He could never have felt it. That’s the one great mercy” (or is it, she wondered); “the doctor is sure of that.” Catherine wondered whether she could ask one question. She thought she’d better not. “What’s an eightfoot embackmut?” asked Rufus.