“He’s going to pee in here,” Ezra said.

“No he’s not.” I refused to let Ezra rattle me tonight.

“I’m telling you he’s going to pee in here.” Ezra sounded close to panic. “I know when a dog is going to pee. Don’t let him. Please don’t let him!”

“Why are you so upset? If he pees, he pees. Puppies do that. I’ll clean it up.” Such a stupid way to act. It made me furious. “Maybe I should put him on the bed,” I said. “Let him pee on you.”

“No!” Ezra cried.

I scooped the puppy off the floor and, hesitating only a moment, dropped him on top of Ezra. “Why not?”

Ezra sat staring at the dog. The dog stood up, wobbled, and stared back at Ezra.

“He’s a good dog, Ezra,” I said.

Ezra sat, frozen.

At that moment the puppy squatted and peed.

“Oh God!” Ezra cried. He smacked the puppy off the bed with his hand. The puppy squealed, landed on the floor. It started whimpering.

“Listen to it,” Ezra screamed. “It’s sick. You put a sick dog on me.”

Ezra struggled to throw the blankets off him. “You don’t know. You don’t know how radioactive this dog is.”

“Radioactive?”

Mrs. Trent ran to the room.

“It could kill me. Radiation in its pee could kill me!”

“It couldn’t, Ezra.” He wasn’t making any sense.

I gathered up the puppy and started talking softly. I tried calming it, calming myself.

“It’s all right. Look. He’s not radioactive. He can’t be radioactive. We got him up north. Far north. He’s clean.”

Ezra’s face quivered in horror. He wasn’t listening to me. He’d skidded beyond hearing. Mrs. Trent stepped forward in her shabby, ill-fitting clothes. I cut in front of her.

“Ezra. The puppy’s not sick. You surprised him, that’s all. He cried out because you surprised him. Listen, he only pees on people he likes. You don’t think he pees on just anybody, do you?”

Ezra was out of his bed, shivering in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall for support.

I brought the puppy closer to him. Ezra shrank into himself.

“He’s dying of radiation,” Ezra cried. “He’s dying.”

I’d lost my patience. “There’s nothing wrong with this dog!” I yelled. “No radioactivity, no poison, no nothing. Just a normal puppy. Look, Ezra.”

“Get it away!” Ezra screamed, flinging his arms up to cover his face. “Get it away from me.”

“What about the damn bird you told me about?” I cried. “That phoenix you said you were. You’re not rising out of any ashes now.”

Ezra stared at his bare feet, his bare blue feet. His blood still slogged too slowly through his body. Unable to hold himself up any longer, he collapsed into a heap on the floor.

“Don’t bring me anything to love,” he whispered. “I don’t want anything to love.” Ezra hid his face.

Mrs. Trent knelt beside her son, helping him up. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. She struggled to lift Ezra and put him back to bed.