Then see her so clear: Flour in hair Mouth going O at sight of icepants Which I am to leave by door on Hefty bag, spread out Here is Vixen Our dog! Sniffing my icepants which I am no longer which lie now on Hefty bag In shape of boy doing dance one leg bent.

Jer leans against sink Makes desk of own back Meg puts page on Jer’s backdesk hands me pen.

So 89, this is just going to be your CF-201B, Meg says. Addendum to your CF-201A. Which you already signed. Happily. Gladly. Earlier.

When you first joined us, says Kennedy B.

Joined our team, says Meg.

It doesn’t hurt, 89, says Kennedy B. Remember? It’s just with magnets and whatnot?

How would he remember that, doofus? says Meg.

He seems to actually remember kind of a lot, says Kennedy B.

If I ever lied to you, 89, which I didn’t? Jer says. Or deceived you? Or withheld or misrepresented certain information? It was for your own good. To make your life better.

Jer, why are you even going there right now? says Meg.

Sometimes, to do good, there are steps along the way at which goodness must be temporarily set aside or lost sight of, says Jer.

Hooray, says Meg. Good meeting.

Make your X, 89, says Jer.

Maybe now we can get out of this stupid tiny bathroom at least, says Kennedy B.

I love that idea so much, says Meg.

Carol, I say.

What’s that, 89? says Jer.

Carol Spencer, I say. Carol K. Spencer.

Ah, shit, says Meg. Perfect.

Carol K. Spencer, 1539 Becker Street, Schenectady, New York, I say. 12304.

Then place pen in sink Polite ly.

Per Meg Jer takes me into yard For frank urgent pep talk pronto.

This, right now, 89? says Jer. Dusk. That there? Aspen. Over there? Storage shed. Gate. Sunflowers. This thing blowing? Breeze. Check that out. Up there. Did you even know that was a thing?

Sun and moon in sky at once.

You seem agitated, pal, says Jer. Standoffish. Not your usual peppy self.

I blink.

Would like to visit, I say.

Visit what? Jer says.

Ma, I say.

Ha, wow, interesting, Jer says. Bargaining. Pretty advanced. Is that your, uh, demand, 89? Like, pre-signing demand? We take you to see your mother, you sign?

Yes? I say.

I’m going to level with you, 89, Jer says. Have we done level with you? Figure of speech?

Tell the truth, I say.

Remember when we had all those moths back at Room Valiant? Jer says. And sprayed? And they were, like, lying all over everything? Not moving? And we swept them up and bagged them up and all of that? Those moths? Were dead. Had died. Perfectly normal. Remember Gladys? Who used to clean Room Valiant? Remember when Gladys started no longer coming in? A person reaches a certain age.

No spring chicken, I say.