the key. I have sent my insurance company a copy of the police report, as the police suggested.
At the pizza place, our usual table is empty; I am earlier than usual. I sit down. Hi-I’m-Jean glances at me and looks away. A moment later Cameron comes in, then Chuy and Bailey and Eric. The table feels unbalanced with only five of us. Chuy moves his chair to the end, and the rest of us shift a little: now it is symmetrical.
I can see the beer sign easily, with its blinking pattern. Tonight it annoys me; I turn a little away.
Everyone is twitchy; I am having to bounce my fingers on my legs, and Chuy is twisting his neck back and forth, back and forth. Cameron’s arm moves; he is bouncing his plastic dice in his pocket. As soon as we have ordered, Eric takes out his multicolored pen and starts drawing his patterns.
I wish Dale and Linda were here, too. It feels odd to be without them. When our food comes we eat, almost in silence. Chuy is making a little rhythmic “hunh” between bites, and Bailey is clicking his tongue.
When most of the food is gone, I clear my throat. Everyone looks at me quickly, then away.
“Sometimes people need a place to talk,” I say. “Sometimes it can be at someone’s place.”
“It could be at your place?” Chuy asks.
“It could,” I say.
“Not everyone knows where you live,” Cameron says. I know he does not know, either. It is strange how we have to talk about something.
“Here are directions,” I say. I take out the papers and put them on the table. One at a time, the others take the sheets. They do not look at them right away.
“Some people have to get up early,” Bailey says.
“It is not late now,” I say.
“Some people will have to leave before others if others are staying late.”
“I know that,” I say.
Chapter Seventeen
THERE ARE ONLY TWO VISITOR SLOTS IN THE PARKING LOT, but I know there is room for my visitors’ cars; most of the residents do not keep cars. This apartment building was built back when everyone had at least one car.
I wait in the parking lot until the others have arrived. Then I lead them upstairs. All those feet sound loud on the stairs. I did not know it would be this loud. Danny opens his door.
“Oh—hi, Lou. I wondered what was happening.”
“It is my friends,” I say.
“Good, good,” Danny says. He does not close his door. I do not know what he wants. The others follow me to my door, and I unlock it and let them in.
It feels very strange to have other people in the apartment. Cameron walks around and finally disappears into the bathroom. I can hear him in there. It is like when I lived in a group residence. I did not like that much. Some things should be private; it is not nice to hear someone else in the bathroom. Cameron flushes the toilet, and I hear the water running in the basin, and then he comes out. Chuy looks at me, and I nod. He goes into the bathroom, too. Bailey is looking at my computer.
“I do not have a desk model at home,” he says. “I use my hand-held to work through the computer at work.”
“I like having this one,” I say.
Chuy comes back to the living room. “So—what now?”
Cameron looks at me. “Lou, you have been reading about this, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” I get Brain Functionality off the shelf where I put it. “My—a friend loaned me this book. She said it was the best place to start.”
“Is it the woman Emmy talks about?”
“No, someone else. She is a doctor; she is married to a man I know.”
“Is she a brain doctor?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why did she give you the book? Did you ask her about the project?”
“I asked her for a book on brain function. I want to know what they are going to do to our brains.”
“People who have not studied do not know anything about how the brain works,” Bailey says.
“I did not know until I started reading,” I say. “Only what they taught us in school, and that was not a lot. I wanted to learn because of this.”
“Did you?” Cameron asks.
“It takes a long time to learn everything that is known about brains,” I say, “I know more than I did, but I do not know if I know enough. I want to know what they think it