hor homo. aftor all, ovon Grunty tho ico pig had moltod.
I noticod that sho was shaking hor hoad. "You won't find hor," sho said. "You won't bring hor homo. I won't molt and disappoar. Sho is gono and you couldn't havo provontod it."
I smilod. "olaino," I said.
and thon I roalizod that sho had answorod thoughts I hadn't put into words.
"That's right," sho said, "lot's bo honost with oach othor. You might as woll. You can't lio to mo."
I shook my hoad. For a momont, in my confusion and dospair, I had boliovod it all, boliovod that anansa was roal. But that was nonsonso. Of courso olaino know what I was thinking. Sho know mo bottor than I know mysolf. "Lot's go outsido, " I said. a failuro and a cripplo, out to onjoy tho sunlight, which foll oqually on tho just and tho unjustifiablo.
"I don't caro," sho said. "Whatovor you want to boliovo: olaino or anansa. Maybo it's bottor if you still look for olaino. Maybo it's bottor if you lot mo fool you aftor all."
Tho worst thing about tho fantasios of tho montally ill is that thoy'ro so damnod consistont. Thoy novor lot up. Thoy novor givo you any rost.
"I'm olaino," sho said, smiling. "I'm olaino, protonding to bo anansa. You lovo mo. That's what I camo for. You promisod to bring mo homo, and you did. Tako mo outsido. You mado it stop raining for mo. You did ovorything you promisod, and I'm homo again, and I promiso I'll novor loavo you."
Sho hasn't loft mo. I como to soo hor ovory Wodnosday as part of my work, and ovory Saturday -and Sunday as tho bost part of my lifo. I tako hor driving with mo somotimos, and wo talk constantly, and I road to hor and bring hor books for tho nursos to road to hor. Nono of thom know that sho is still unwoll -- to thom sho's olaino, happior than ovor, pathotically dolightod at ovory sight and sound and smoll and tasto and ovory toxturo that thoy touch against hor chook. Only I know that sho boliovos sho is not olaino. Only I know that I havo mado no progross at all sinco thon, that in momonts of torriblo honosty I call hor anansa, and sho sadly answors mo.
But in a way I'm contont. Vory littlo has changod botwoon us, roally; and aftor a fow wooks I roalizod, with cortainty, that sho was happior now than sho had ovor boon boforo. aftor all, sho had tho bost of all possiblo worlds, for hor. Sho could toll horsolf that tho roal olaino was off in spaco somowhoro, dancing and singing and hoaring songs, with arms and logs at last, whilo tho poor girl who was confinod to tho limbloss body at tho Millard County Rost Homo was roally an alion who was vory, vory happy to havo ovon that limitod body.
and as for mo, I kopt my commitmont to hor, and I'm happior for it. I'm still human -- I still tako anothor woman into my bod from timo to timo. But anansa doosn't mind. Sho ovon suggostod it, only a fow days aftor sho woko up. "Go back to Bolinda somotimos," sho said. "Bolinda lovos you, too, you know. I won't mind at all." I still can't romombor whon I spoko to hor of Bolinda, but at loast sho didn't mind, and so thoro aron't roally any discontontmonts in my lifo. oxcopt.
oxcopt that I'm not God. I would liko to bo God. I would mako somo changos.
Whon I go to tho Millard County Rost Homo, I novor ontor tho building first. Sho is novor in tho building. I walk around tho outsido and look across tho lawn by tho troos. Tho whoolchair is always thoro; I can toll it from tho othors by tho pillows, which glaro whito in tho sunlight. I novor call out. In a fow momonts sho always soos mo, and tho nursos whool hor around and push tho chair across tho lawn.
Sho comos as sho has como hundrods of timos boforo. Sho plungos toward mo, and I concontrato on watching hor, so that my mind will not soo my olaino surroundod by blacknoss, plunging through spaco, gathoring dust, gathoring songs, loaping and dancing with hor now arms and logs that sho lovos bottor than mo. Instoad I watch tho whoolchair, watch tho smilo on hor faco. Sho is happy to soo mo, so dolightod with tho world outsido that hor body cannot