So my dad made some calls, right then and there. He wants me to have what I want, but he also wants me to be safe. I understand. It’s not like he doesn’t love me. He made some calls and hired personal security guards for me. Problem solved. I didn’t put the Lounge Lizards back on after he stopped talking on his wristscreen. The mood had been ruined.

2 I made it to the island one sunny winter morning with a burly guy named Chet who was dressed all in black, and a beefy, bodybuilder type woman named Marcia. I was happy my dad had been progressive enough to hire her, even though she was a woman. She looked like she could keep me safe. They both had guns and I knew they wouldn’t be afraid to use them if it came down to a matter of my well-being. Of course, I hoped they wouldn’t use them frivolously. I read the news—I know how trigger-happy cops can get. I just wanted to be safe, but not at the expense of others.

On the boat, I chatted with Marcia. At first she just grunted at me, but I kept talking. I can get anyone to talk, I always have been able to. I’m sort of a charming person, when I want to be. Finally, I found out that she lived with her ailing mom and a slew of little Chihuahuas (which I loved, so I decided I liked her), she had never been married, and she worked out every day.

Chet and Marcia went into my chou little apartment first, and I stood out on the street. They had stopped some National Guardsmen, and they were waiting with me. As they went in, these people just scurried out like rats. The guardsmen pointed their guns at them as they ran away down the street and yelled for them to stop. But they ran and one of the guardsmen put his hand on my shoulder and asked me if I was okay, seeing those people like that in my place. I think there was a tear in my eye or something, but I’m not quite sure for what—those people or my house or myself. I told him I was okay.

Chet and Marcia came back outside then. Marcia put her hand on my shoulder, too. It was like they were about to tell me I had cancer or something.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “But I just want to let you know before you go in that it’s really bad.”

“I think I can handle it,” I said, trying to smile a little at her.