“What?” I said, astonished by this sudden turn. The lights were so bright. My sweating accelerated. “What? Krystal, I was—I was—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t know how to finish it.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. You were ‘assaulted,’ raped, whatever. Yeah I know all about it. Everybody knows all about it. Wah, wah, wah, let’s-feel-sorry-for-Bonnie time.” Her voice ratcheted upward. “But why didn’t you stop them? The robbers!”

Krystal was yelling now, and looked crazed, her face flushed and sweaty, her voice at a register I had never heard before. We were both standing now, too, though I didn’t recall standing up. “I know the market and where you were standing when they first came in, you could’ve taken a hammer or knife, or a fucking jar of pickles, I don’t know, and hit one of them from behind. You could have stopped them! Some hero. Why did you just let it happen!”

“Shut up, now.” I was very calm. “Shut up now, Krystal.”

“Walking around with your stupid dead face, acting all holier-than-thou like nothing touches you, well let me tell you something, Bonnie.” She moved toward me like a snake, slithery, her finger pointing at me like a knife. Her nails were long and yellow and raggedy, her hair a greasy mess. Briefly I wondered if the dentists she worked for noticed her stink, if they allowed her to get close to the patients.

Then she got right up close to me and said: “Geannie and Jim hated you.”

The Elvis record ended and clicked off. We stood facing each other in silence, my surprise at her statement so large that, for a wild second, I thought the force of it had turned off the music.

“Yeah. That’s right.” Her posture puffed up like an inflating raft. She saw my expression, I guess. I could see it register in her face. The power. “They fucking hated you. Couldn’t get rid of you fast enough whenever you came around. Ever wonder why you never had a key to their house? But Mom felt sorry for you. Poor little Bonnie, her dead mommy and daddy. Daughter of the town drunk. Everyone knew that, did you realize? You were the daughter of the town drunk, and I don’t mean your dad.” The hits kept on coming. My ears thrummed.

She must have seen my shock because she softened a little, but then I saw her remember the money. My win and her loss. I could read her thoughts by translating the rises and falls in her face like a radio waveform. “Your mother crashing into that window, I heard all about it. And my parents felt sorry for you. Mooning over Hernan, weirding him out. Everyone knew you were hot for him. He was always begging to change the schedule so he could avoid walking you home. You were a mute, he said! You embarrassed yourself. He caught secondhand embarrassment from you.”

Standing in silence, I could only look at her, amazed. The words coming out of her mouth were alien filth, a torrent of black bilgewater. The scar on my neck throbbed.