PATRICIA HAD ANOTHER one of her dreams about being lost in the woods, this time running with a pack of deer, a barbarian yell in her throat and the scent of tree sap in her nostrils. She ran with her elbows and her stomach and her knees, until she couldn’t breathe. Patricia stumbled and fell onto her hands, gasping, laughing. She looked up and there was that big bird-shaped Tree again, with the mindful gaze coming through its branches. Patricia walked up and touched it with her palms against its ropey bark, feeling the power rising and churning inside of it. Touching that weird Tree from her childhood fancies, Patricia felt as though she could heal an entire army with a single breath. Air rushed through the Tree, like it was drawing breath to speak to her in its stentorian whoosh … then she woke up. She’d overslept, in spite of her alarm.

*   *   *

PATRICIA WAS FIXING Reginald’s sink, which had one of those glitchy new valves that were supposed to shut off the water after a couple minutes, and she found herself talking about her breakup with Kevin. “I mean, I guess it’s for the best, since it was never going to work. But it’s a symptom of the larger problem, that I never have time for anybody, and I keep isolating myself, and I’m basically doomed to wind up alone forever. Right?”

She expected Reginald to offer some bromides about how she just needed to be herself, but instead he said, “Get. A. Caddy.”

“What?” She nearly bonked her head on the sink.

“Get a Caddy. It will change your life, I am not kidding. At all. You become totally connected to all the people in your life. Not like regular social networking, either. It’s uncanny: You will just run into people you know, in person, when you most need to see them. I could barely afford one on my fixed income, but it turned out to be the best investment I ever made.”

“I always thought they were just for Mission hipsters,” Patricia said. “Anyway, it sounds creepy.”

“Seriously, no. It’s not creepy, and it’s so easy to use. It doesn’t spy on you, or tell you to stalk your friends. I’ve never felt like it was invading my privacy. It just … makes serendipity happen more often. It’s unobtrusive, and doesn’t give you a bunch of alerts. But you’ll always know what’s the one party you shouldn’t miss. I was feeling isolated, even with your much-appreciated visits. And then I got this Caddy, and I feel as though I’m back in my own life again.”

In spite of Reginald’s insistence that the Caddy was not at all creepy, his hard sell was in itself kind of creepy. He sounded like someone who had just joined a cult. Patricia vowed that she would never, ever buy a Caddy. Ever.