Stumble into Opal’s office to use her phone even though it’s her Personal Space and therefore off-limits. Come to think of it, not even Floyd comes in here.

Sun streams through the open window, filmy curtains swaying in the breeze. Rainbows from the crystals she’s hung from the window frames wander over the far wall. Books, embroidered cushions, polished pine floor; and everywhere chunks of jade, rose quartz, and amethyst. How can the woman who arranged all this with such care treat her only son like he’s a hole in the landscape?

Eight years ago. A psychic fair comes to town. Opal (then known as Audrey) can’t get a sitter, so she drags me along. At first I enjoy myself. The tables are spread with purple satin that glitters with gold stars and crescent moons. Polished stones gleam in brass bowls. Incense burns in little curls of smoke and scent.

Audrey doesn’t want to leave; her cheeks are flushed and her eyes glazed. By now, a couple of hours have passed and I’m tired and whiny. She tells me to go sit by the wall because she has an appointment to have her palm read by the woman in the flowing blue dress.

When it’s over, she’s ablaze with excitement. She walks right past me and pushes open the exit door without even checking to see if I’m tagging along behind her.

I was as scared of her that day as I am of Floyd every day.

Once I’m living in Halifax, things will quiet down here. No more beatings, because I’m the one who triggers Floyd. Cassie won’t have to worry about the go-upstairs command anymore, and she’ll stop having nightscares. She’ll be okay.

Not great, given Floyd and Opal. But okay. Some of the tension seeps out of me. I sit down on the couch, which is so soft that I lean back, closing my good eye, wishing I could stay here forever.

Opal’s wind chimes jingle and sing.

I fall asleep. Wake up and realize it’s twelve thirty. Time has passed. Time has a habit of doing this. Today I’m all for it.

Sluggish as a bear in winter, I key in Rolf’s number. He picks up the phone. Must be his lunch break. “It’s Brick,” I say. “I’m not feeling so good. Could we do the money-thing last of the week?”

“Flu’s going around.”

“Fell off the ATV.” Hastily I add, “Cassie wasn’t on it.”

“How about Friday, then? I’m on days—come over at noon.”

I hang up just as Opal marches into the office; she must have heard my voice. I mumble, “Thanks for stopping him, Opal.”

She stands still, her long skirt swirling around her ankles. “You don’t ever want to take him on. Not Floyd.”