“Really? And is joy all it’s cracked up to be?”

  “Yup.”

  “Look, Doc, don’t get too deep on me. I get your trip about us all living in this identity prison based on false memory. Doomed to live like contortionists based on some old pain that’s probably half-imagined. Stuck in the same fucking loop repeating the same scenes like a scratched DVD. Whatever it is, it’s pain we can’t let go of. That’s why I try to be a chameleon. I’m never the same twice. I learned that from you. But let’s not shit around. I’m here to get you to sign my emancipation papers. I’m sixteen. I can sue for emancipation and get away from The Mother. But I need your signature.”

  “You think you’re ready?”

  “Yeah,” says Mimi, as she notices one of those plastic cubes for paper clips on the floor.

  “Can you really prove cruelty on your mother’s part? She works all day every day just to feed and house you. Do you have any money in the bank to get an apartment? Can you get a job?”

  “Sure.”

  “How do you think Mason will do with you gone?”

  “He’s not my kid. Fuck you.”

  “Fuck me? That’s not nice. How would you like it if I said that to you?”

  “Well, that’s all you want to do, right? Fuck me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Yeah? Everybody wants to fuck me. It’s boring boring boring.”

  “I’m not thinking that at all.”

  “Yes you are.”

  Mimi, unthinking, enters him. She’s surprised to find that he doesn’t. Doesn’t want to fuck her. But she can feel him stiffen anyway. He can’t help it.

  “Don’t sweat it, Doc,” Mimi slurs, giggling a bit. When she’s inside, she’s drunk.

  She looks out of Brian’s eyes and sees herself. Sees her body slouched, legs spread. Wants more than anything to pull down her own pink lace stockings. Sees her pert nipples clearly at attention like listening ears on each side of the Buddha’s head, and she wants to bite them. She wants herself, not that she even really knows what for.

  She makes Brian stand and walk towards herself, reaching for her own breast.

  She flings herself out of Brian and back inside her own discarded body.

  Brian looks at his hand and wonders what it was doing.

  “Doc, that’s like, so against the rules, I betcha,” Mimi giggles and slumps, almost falling off the couch.

  “What am I doing? Why am I standing up?”

  “You were reaching to grab my tit, you dirty boy. So what. I just want papers for emancipation.”

  “I was doing no such thing. What is this? Blackmail?”

  “The mind is a weapon, Doc, you know that. Plays tricks on ya.”

  “Stop lying, Mimi.”

  “Whatever, forget about it. Actually, I can’t tell if you wanted that or if I made you want it. Hard tellin’ sometimes.”

  Brian sits back down, confused.

  “What’s up, Doc? Fucking the patient fucks with that ol’ transference shit?”

  “Yes, it does. It’s against the rules. The transference happens in its own time. And it’s a patient to shrink impulse, not the other way around.”

  “Really? That so? Well, I think what we did speeds it up, Doc. Just speeds it up.”

  “Mimi, these games are counterproductive.”

  “Maybe we really should fuck.”

  “Stop that. This is sick.”

  “Hey, sick fucks fuck good. One of my favorite themes. Crazy people are erotic.”

  “No, Mimi. Most sick fucks can’t fuck.”

  “Depends on the sick fuck.”

  “It doesn’t last. Why are we even talking about this?”

  “Because I think you’re reaping the benefit of my monster obsession.”

  “So are you then. Let’s drop this one, shall we?”

  “Avoidance, Doc! You’re avoiding!”

  “Seriously, Mimi. Tell me about monsters. About what you love about them.”

  “Why? You think all my problems come from climbing up and stealing peeks at the forbidden monster book?”

  “I think it all comes from whatever compelled you to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Climb up there and look.”

  Outside in the street, as they all pile back in the Toyota, Mimi takes the pilfered paper clip cube and dumps her weed into it, tossing the empty Ween tape. Then she turns to Alvin and says, “I got an idea.”

  Mimi, Alvin and Mason walk the tracks in the woods. Mimi wonders if trains still roar by, down these rail-tracks. They hear the howl of a chainsaw in the distance. It gets louder, then dies.

  “Mimi,” says Alvin, his dress shoes pinching his feet. “Can’t you at least give me a hint?”

  “It’s something you always say to me,” she answers. “I saw it along these tracks.”

  Alvin’s face scrunches as he considered what it could be. “But the only signs on a railroad track are town signs. I never call you the name of a town.”

  “You’ll see,” says Mimi, some instinct causing her to turn back and notice they’ve left Mason way behind. He sits happily between the second and third rails, piling rocks.

  “Mason! Get up!” Mimi trudges back to collect him. “If you don’t keep up we’ll have to tie you to a tree and get you on the way back, little guy.”

  Mason looks up at his big sister. “Tired,” he says. Mason doesn’t talk much, but when he says something, he means it. Mimi gets on her knees, back to her little brother, helping him as he happily scrambles up onto her shoulders. It’s his favorite perch. She groans and stands up. “You’re heavy, little dude.” Mason bangs on her head, giddy.

  The three walk a ways, in silence. Hearing things they don’t normally take the time to hear. Water rushing somewhere. Distant birds. Wind ruffling leaves.

  Mason sees the man first. Resting, sweating, a scatter of branches at his feet, chainsaw hung loose from his hand as if a natural extension of his arm.

  “Machine!” Mason squeals in delight. Then Mimi sees him. Lean, shirtless, tight stomach, young.

  “Oh my god,” she whispers to Alvin. “Hot hot hot.”

  “Hot?” Alvin shoves his glasses up the bridge of his sweaty nose, and peers at the guy. “Really? That’s what girls call hot?” He shoves his tape recorder closer to his sister’s mouth. She bats it away and strides toward the sweaty guy and his chainsaw.

  “Hey Chainsaw,” says Mimi, her voice slowing to a drawl. “Mind if we jump the tracks a bit?” Secretly mocking her shrink’s words.

  He tilts his head to one side and doesn’t answer. Mimi takes this as a yes and walks closer. “So guy, can my little brother see your chainsaw? He likes big tools.”

  “‘Hey guy’? ‘Hey Chainsaw.’ That’s what you say to me? Like, ‘Hey tree, hey rock’?”

  “Well, I don’t know your name, do I?”

  “Try asking,” he says, holding out his free hand. “I’m Conrad.”

  Mimi takes his hand, giggling.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Conrad. Sounds like one of those names from some boring book they make you read in English class about some insane British Arctic tea party explorer. But you’re like, hangin’ in the woods, half-naked, with a chainsaw. I would have figured you more for a Conan than a Conrad.”

  “A barbarian, that’s what you think? What’s your name?”

  “Mimi.” Mason squirms down off Mimi’s back to take a closer look at the log pile, scrunching his face as if he knows it needs piling. He begins the task in earnest.

  “Mimi? That fits,” says Conrad.

  “How so,” says Mimi, suspicious.

  “You’re kind of a … flibbertigibbet.”

  Mason giggles and tries out the word, “flipergebet!”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “A silly girl. A little scatterbrain, a touch of whimsy. A tidbit. A piece of candy.” He pauses, then adds, “Fluff.”

  Mimi’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t like this string of feathery insults.

  “Sorry,” says Conrad. “My mom does the crossword puzzles. You learn a lot of useless words.”

  He yanks his chain, and the saw thunders to life. He suddenly looks fearful, and the saw swings wildly, out of his control. Alvin screams. Conrad shuts the chainsaw, and Mimi falls to the ground.

  “You bitch!” Conrad yells. Mason begins to cry.

  Furious, Mimi leaps up again, only to be knocked down as if by an invisible punch.

  “Can’t fuck with everybody, sister. Some of us resist.”

  Alvin whispers into his tape recorder, “He threw her out! That has never happened before.”

  “You think you can just enter someone without asking?” Conrad stands over her. He sees the shock on her face, then laughs. “I see. No one’s ever resisted you before. Well, little girl, not everyone is so fucking weak. You want something, trying asking for it first.”

  “I …”

  “I know what you want,” he says, looking down at her splayed body. “I know all of it. So let’s go get it over with.”

  “No …” Mimi is confused. “I don’t want that … .”

  “Not that. The other,” says Conrad the Confident. He gives her a hand, and effortlessly pulls her to her feet. He tugs at the sides of her skirt, which has ridden up high on her hip, revealing too much. His actions are forceful but tender, respectful. Mimi looks at him intently.

  Conrad grabs Mason and slings him easily onto his shoulders and strides down the railroad tracks, his bare back glistening. Mason laughs and hugs the big guy’s head. “Fibblegiggle!”

  Mimi follows like a drunk, weaving and unsure. Alvin is too stunned to even record the moment.

  Finally Conrad reaches a spot in the tracks where there was once a switching station, long ago shut down. He puts Mason down.

  “Don’t move, little man. Chainsaws are dangerous.”

  Mason nods, serious, then stands like a soldier, unbudging. Conrad yanks the chainsaw alive, and cuts away a few branches to reveal a rusty sign. He tests the chains that hold the dangling sign, tapping them lightly to see if they are old and rusty enough for the chainsaw to cut. Not the best tool for a job like this. But his touch is deft, and he finds the weak links and frees the sign. He brings it to Mimi.

  “Thank you,” says Mimi, uncharacteristically tame.

  Alvin peers in and reads it. “Switchback! Of course! It’s an old train term. Switch back the tracks to their former position!”

  Conrad turns back to see Mason standing exactly where he ordered him to wait.

  “You can move again, Mason.” Mason runs to Conrad and hugs him. “Daddy!”

  “No, Mason, that’s not Dad,” says Alvin sadly.

  “Wanna see my big truck?” says Conrad, looking deeply into Mason’s eyes, knowing what the little boy wants.

  Mason is playing with the gearshift in the huge big-wheeled pickup truck. Alevin is nervously trying to stop Mason from breaking anything. Mimi leans in the truck window.

  “Time for a quick Frankendate,” says Mimi. “Back in a jiff.”

  Mimi and Conrad walk a distance away.

  “So … You’re like, mad at me?” tests Mimi.

  “Nah,” answers Conrad.

  “You wanna fuck me?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t?”

  Conrad laughs. “Why so shocked? ’Cause I’m Conrad the Barbarian?”

  “Gonad the Barbarian’s more like it,” sulks Mimi.

  “Okay, maybe I’m a little angry at you. And of course I’d like to fuck you. Who wouldn’t? You’re beautiful.”

  “I am?”

  He looks at her sideways, then says, “Like you don’t know.” He looks at her again, and smiles. “You know, you have a twisted smile. Only one side goes all the way up.”

  “Yeah. Got thrown off a horse last year. Did something to my head. Had like, half my face paralyzed for months, but it all came back.”

  “Except the smile.”

  “Except the smile. So? You want your ‘I’m sorry’ fuck or not?”

  “Fucking you is not a requirement for me to forgive you.”

  He sets down his chainsaw.

  “No. Bring it,” says Mimi. “Back here.”

  Alvin watches from the truck as his sister disappears into the woods with Conrad.

  “Your chainsaw. Just hold on to it,” says Mimi. “Keep your finger on the trigger. You can pull the trigger when I … You know, rev it a little so my brothers don’t hear me …”

  “Scream?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What, you’re suddenly shy? A bossy girl like you?”

  “No, I just don’t want them running back here thinking you’re hurting me.”

  Conrad laughs. “They both know I wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

  Alvin and Mason sit in the truck, hearing the rise and fall of the chainsaw’s moan.

  Mason looks at Alvin curiously.

  “They’re just cutting down a few trees, buddy,” says Alvin. “They’ll be done soon.”

  But back in the woods, they aren’t doing anything. Conrad shuts the chainsaw.

  “You’ve never done this, have you?” He says this quietly, with respect.

  “No,” Mimi looks down, uncomfortable, then lifts her head and meets his eyes straight on.

  “Then you shouldn’t do it like this,” he says, “with me, in the woods. A first time should have some love in it.”

  Mimi nods.

  “It might even turn out to be me, but we need a little love first. Better that way.”

  They are all four of them sitting across in the front seat. Conrad is showing them how fast his truck can go. They drive recklessly and speed across an open field.

  “Wow!” says Alvin. “You’re like Neal Cassady!”

  “Who?” asks Mimi.

  “Guy in Jack Kerouac’s On the Road,” says Conrad.

  “Only Neal’s the real guy,” explains Alvin. “His name is Dean Moriarty in the book. Best wheelman ever.”

  “You wanna know what it feels like?” Conrad looks to Mimi.

  “You’re inviting me in?”

  “Yup.”

  Mimi’s head rolls back, her body slightly limp, as she enters Conrad and feels what it’s like to know your vehicle so well it is you. Feel the gears, the oil, the smooth machine. The kinks, when something’s off, that almost hurt. She feels the thrill of speed, and silently commands Conrad to crank it up. He lets her, but holds her back a touch. She’s inside but he’s in control.

  “This is so … ,” Mimi laughs. “I gotta learn to drive like this.” Mimi’s slurring voice always fascinates Alvin and scares Mason.

  Conrad spins onto a dirt road and puts pedal to metal. Alvin glances over and sees a look of terror on Mason’s face.

  “Hey Conrad, can you slow it down a little?”

  “Shut up, Alvin,” says Mimi. “This is hot!”

  Suddenly the truck lurches, leaps into the air as if a fat wingless bird trying to fly, thumps down and grinds to a stop.

  “What the fuck?” says Conrad. They all tumble out. Conrad dives down to look under the chassis for damage.

  Mimi slips out of Conrad and turns to see her brother staring at Mason. She looks at Mason.

  “Did you do that?”

  “Mason scared,” he whispers.

  “You did that?” Mimi is stunned. Mason looks up at her, wondering what he did wrong. Mimi pictures him shoving things around supermarkets, in front of normals. That can’t happen. She’s got to make him understand that.

  “You gotta be stealthy! Don’t you know that they hate us?” she screams at Mason. “They want to kill us. They kidnap us! I gotta file of all the kids they swiped. They find out about you, they take you somewhere and kill you. You don’t get it!”

  By now Mason is crying, and Conrad has taken Mimi’s hand.

  “He doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Mimi. Please, stop this.”

  “You don’t get it! They’ll kill him! I have to make him understand!”

  She enters her little brother, and forces him to slap her in the face. Then she forces him to slap himself in the face. Confused, angry, he shoves her out of him.

  “Hate you!” he cries.

  “See? You don’t like me to do shit to you.”

  “No,” he screams, and “shoves” her again.

  She laughs. “See?” she says, “Now I don’t like you either.”

  Mason bursts into tears, wailing with such pain it shocks everyone. Conrad grabs Mason and holds him close, staring up at Mimi as if she were monstrous.

  Alvin checks his tape recorder, and says to himself, “Got it!”

  “What the hell did you do that for?” Conrad shouts. “He’s just a little boy.”

  “He’s got to hide it, or they’ll get him. You know that.”

  “There are better ways, Mimi. Gentler ways. Mason has a lot of heart,” says Conrad. “I better bring you all home. His mom will be worried.”

  “Our mom doesn’t give a shit,” Mimi begins to say, but strangely, one look from Conrad and she quietly gets back into the truck.

  When they pull up, a few blocks from their house, Mimi looks at Conrad.

  “Bye.”

  “I’ll see you again,” he says.

  “How do you know that?”

  “That half-smile of yours. I want to see it again.”

  Mimi watches till the truck is far away, then turns out of sight.

  They begin to walk home. Alvin is playing back bits of his tapes, making sure he got everything. He comes to the part where Mason is crying, wailing. It is a plaintive, sorrowful howl, but Mason looks at the tape machine and giggles. Mimi strides ahead, confused, and confused, she turns to her basic survivalist mode.

  “Alvin!” she shouts.

  “What?” he answers timidly, knowing this voice of hers means trouble.

  “How much you got of that?”

  “Of what?”

  “Of Mason crying.”

  “Uh … A lot, I think. Maybe five minutes?”

  “That’ll work. Slow down. Help me pick out a house that looks like some old lady lives alone in it. And wind that tape back to the beginning of Mason crying.”