“I guess I’ll go call the goat farm and tell them what’s going on. No, don’t get up. I’ll take care of it. No, really, Shaw. It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

Shaw didn’t answer; he just waved a hand, still laughing as kids crowded around him.

“I hit him really hard,” North said. “I basically had it handled.”

There were eight, maybe ten of the kids climbing all over Shaw now, and he was petting them and laughing and completely ignoring North. Somehow that made it all so much worse.

“They’re eating your fucking straw shoes,” North said, spinning on his heel and marching away. “I thought maybe you’d like to know.”

6

NOBODY WANTS A PONY climbing on them when they’re doing yoga.” Sister Hecate Moonbow-Rising was trying to squeeze through the door. North planted himself in the way, slowly leaning against the wood, forcing it shut inch by inch.

“That’s why she took the goats.” Sister Hecate Moonbow-Rising’s face narrowed to a sliver. She sucked in uneven lungfuls of air. “It’s really so simple when you understand. Ponies are all right—if I could just step inside for a moment, I’d really like to—oh. Oh my. The door, I think you’re closing the door. Ponies are all right, I suppose, but can you imagine having one climb on your back—just a minute, I’ll only be a minute, and I do want to thank your boyfriend, he was part of this—if you could just let me squeeze—oh! My ankle! And just imagine that, a pony on your back while you’re trying to do yoga. Have you ever heard anything so ridi—”

The door shut, the latch clicking softly, and North punched the button lock. Then, as an added measure, he pulled the security chain.

Sister Hecate Moonbow-Rising was tapping on the door. “I think my skirt is caught. If I could slip inside for just a minute, I really think you’d like to hear about the . . .”

North left her still talking.

“You could have let her in,” Shaw said. He kicked off the half-eaten straw shoes, pausing to hold one up and examine it mournfully, and then put his hands on his pants and began to shimmy out of them.

“Stop,” North said. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

“You’ve seen me naked before. Plenty of times. And I was reading an article on HuffPost about the health advantages of sleeping without underwear. Did you know that even a small increase in body temperature—”

“Nope.”

“No, really, your sperm count—”

“Nope.”

Shaw stared at him. Then he shoved the jeans down and stepped out of them.

“You are sleeping in a pair of shorts. Something. Anything. Tuck would lose his shit if he found out.”

“We were roommates. It’s not like you never peeked.”

“Shaw.”

“Fine. But this is—this is—this is Puritanism.”