“Euthanized,” Blaine said. “But the point is my picture was right in the ballpark. I went to Africa because lions in Africa weren’t my problem. It was lions in Oregon.”

“My voice isn’t that bad. It’s…normal.”

“It’s airy-fairy,” Blaine said. He held his hand out and let it quaver. “I’m just telling you because you’re my nephew, and somebody has to point these things out. It was really bad when you said, ‘Excuse me, do you mind if I smoke?’ ”

Freddy threw his head back and laughed. “That was intentional! I was doing the nineteen-thirties movie thing. You’re just getting crabby because you need to eat. Did you have anything for breakfast?”

“A doughnut,” Blaine said.

“Well, you were sugared up and now you’re down. You came in booming with good cheer and now you’re Mr. Crab Patch. Maybe we should make some eggs or something?” Freddy said.

Zona came downstairs with a thick red copy of the Physicians’ Desk Reference and shoved it at Freddy’s chest, knocking him back on the couch. “Page 2,257,” she said. “Interpret the lingo, buster.”

“What’s going on up there?” Blaine said.

Zona said, “I put Boo Boo in with Walter. They’re talking.”

“They’re talking? You mean like ‘How’re ya doin’?’ ” Freddy said.

Zona stroked her cheek, “ ‘Whacha doin’?’ ‘Just layin’ here, Boo.’ ‘Are you feeling bad, Captain?’ ‘I feel pretty rough. I sure do.’ ‘Give me a kiss.’ Talking like that.”

“Well, at least he’s talking. Last night—last night was bad,” Freddy said.

“It’s tearing me up,” Blaine said, reaching through the buttons of his shirt to rub his chest. “This on top of everything else.”

Zona rapped the P.D.R. with her knuckles. “How long before the pills kick in?”

Freddy’s finger ran expertly down a column as he scanned the entry for Eskalith. “ ‘Typical symptoms of mania include pressure of speech, motor hyperactivity, reduced need for sleep, flight of ideas, grandiosity, elation, poor judgment, aggressiveness and possibly hostility. When given to a patient experiencing a manic episode, Eskalith may produce a normalization of symptomatology within one to three weeks.’ Why, it sounds great. We could all do with some.”

There was a large crash and the sound of heavy footfalls upstairs. “Goddamn it! Who’s laughing down there?” The voice came down like thunder, with an overlay of fear and paranoia.

“I’ll be right back,” Zona said. She rushed up the stairs, swung open the bedroom door, stepped inside, and pushed it shut.

“Shit,” said Blaine. “I’m going up there.”

“Zona can handle it. He finds men threatening. We better wait. He’s got the strength of twenty.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Blaine said. “She’s really been good for him. An angel. Really.”

“Most women couldn’t handle the psoriasis, let alone the—”