Zarar’s shaking his head. “Jamie, you were Siri with long hair, and you sneezed and now you’re you. It was like a hologram blinked out. Your face changed and your hair evaporated!”

“What?!” My jaw flops open. “You’re shitting me. I’m me again?!” I look down at myself.

Of course, I never saw Siri when I looked down, just me, and my newly darkened hair.

I am not prepared for how great it feels to know I look like myself again. I thought I was going to be stuck like that for at least four more days!

I laugh and clap my hands together. “Ah! This is great! Looking like Siri was getting real old, real fast.”

Zarar shakes his head again. “You’re going to have to explain this more. Also, I saw that you dyed your hair this color yesterday, and I didn’t get to ask you about that either.”

“How many stops do you have left?”

“Four,” he says.

“Fuck you,” I blurt.

Shit, what is wrong with me right now?

“Excuse me?” he asks calmly.

“That’s how many stops I have left.”

His eyes crawl over me. “Do you have some sort of high-tech projector on you?”

I shake my head. “No. Okay. Sit down and buckle in for some loopy-ass weird.”

“There are no seat belts; we’re on a train. Should I hold on to the pole?”

I nod. “Hold on to the pole.”

46. Angst and Improv Practice

SIRI

September 4, Friday Morning

California

I still look like Jamie.

This morning I woke up on the princess bed with pain roiling up and down my back. I found an orange sleeping bag in the closet, so I’ll make a nice little floor bed for the rest of my stay.

I’ve showered the pain to a manageable level, and I’m now sitting in Jamie’s hard plastic translucent pink chair next to the orange computer, rereading my catfish draft to Dad. Jamie said to send it, but looking at it now, in the light of day … it’s making me nauseous. I close out of the draft and get dressed.

Duck Waterfall practice is in thirty minutes, and I’m trying not to be nervous about it. I sort through Jamie’s collection of clothes, opting to pull on a pair of magenta overalls and a white off-the-shoulder fringed long-sleeved shirt. I’m excited to see Dawn and try to make up for yesterday, but I’m fairly worried about participating in a practice that I know absolutely nothing about.

No one’s in the kitchen, so I set myself to fixing some breakfast. Grams keeps a stocked fridge. She has everything you need for an omelet, so I twirl my way around the room gathering ingredients: eggs, onion, tomato, frying pan, butter, salt, pepper, sliced ham. I also find broccoli in the fridge, which is an unexpected score. I lose myself in the chops and sizzles.