She gazed at me for a moment, then she said, “No, I just said that. I don’t believe it’s true. You and Sammy would have to be alike to make it true, and you’re not— except for your souls. He wants to be what you are, but he won’t be. Ever. He’s just not good enough, but he tries, Bobo. Oh, my God, he tries.” She inhaled and turned to look at the window, then she turned back to me. “I want to ask a favor.”

“Ask,” I said.

“Sammy wants to give you the piece you’re going to use for your friend’s service. That’s what he’s doing now. Getting it ready for you, putting it on another base.”

“He wants to give it to me?”

“Yes.” She paused, closed her eyes slowly, like swallowing something painful, then she opened them again. “I want you to accept it. Please. I don’t care if you dump it on the road back to Kingston, but take it.”

“Of course I will. Happily.”

She came to me and leaned and kissed me softly on the lips, a brush kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s funny, isn’t it, Bobo? We both have loved insane people in Pine Hill.” She touched my face with her fingers. “Sammy told me what he said to you about the two of us making love, and how he’d understand.”

“He was just talking.”

“I know. But I think about it sometimes.”

“I take that as a compliment,” I said.

“It is. Good night, Bobo. I love you.”

“And I love you, Lila.”

I did not dream again, but I did not sleep well enough for dreams. I lay awake and remembered, and perhaps that is the same as dreaming. I think it is.