Her language makes me flinch, but Carole and Willie don’t flinch. It seems that their job—our job—is to listen. I can’t bear to listen, so instead I watch Carole listen. I see her patience, her growing sadness, as she listens until her wild hair goes limp. There’s nothing to do but wait it out, until finally Sara falls silent. When she speaks again, the fury is spent, the irony returned.

“What can you do in a place like this? I guess Horse Feathers is inconsistent with the camp philosophy. It’s unbridled silliness, way below zero on the inspirational scale. Obviously, inappropriate for us. What’s appropriate is to spend our time in a strange mimicry of ‘normal experiences’—dancing, playing softball, living the outdoor life.… But, of course, we don’t really do these things, most of us; we just pretend to. The things we could really, truly enjoy together, freely, of our own choice, are counted worthless. To enjoy our day-to-day lives in our own way is forbidden.” Again she pauses.

“What can you do in a place like this?”

“I’m so sorry,” Carole says. She really is. “I think the way they handled it was wrong. They should have respected your choice. I’d rather see Horse Feathers myself, you know? But you have to forgive them because they don’t understand. And you have to understand, that you—you three, I mean—are different from most of the campers in there. Most of them will like Pollyanna. Don’t you think?”

“Well, maybe. But only because they’ve been brainwashed. They’d have liked Horse Feathers too, and maybe if we cut the inspirational crap, they’d find a way to be who they are. I just can’t stand it. It’s an insult to all of us, to who we are, and who we might become.”

“Come on, Sara,” Willie says gently, “you and I have been coming here a long time. We know it’s nuts. It’s always been nuts. It’ll always be nuts. We can’t expect it to get sensible. It’s a camp for Freaks; we know the Norms that run it don’t have the ghost of an idea what they’re doing. But they don’t matter. The Freaks are what matter. You know that. We share something here. Even though it’s nuts, it’s ours. Am I making any sense?”

Willie flashes his ghastly grin, and when she looks back at him, I remember her telling me that to her he is almost beautiful. I recognize an understanding between them that doesn’t include me. I didn’t grow up part of this place, or anyplace like this.

“I don’t know,” she answers. “I was hoping something would change. But this place is beyond repair. Maybe the best thing would be to pull it down.”