i did n't want to see them lower him into the ground in the spot he 'd picked out with his dad , and i did n't want to see his parents sink to their knees in the dew-wet grass and moan in pain , and i did n't want to see peter van houten 's alcoholic belly stretched against his linen jacket , and i did n't want to cry in front of a bunch of people , and i did n't want to toss a handful of dirt onto his grave , and i did n't want my parents to have to stand there beneath the clear blue sky with its certain slant of afternoon light , thinking about their day and their kid and my plot and my casket and my dirt .