So the wisdom goes, but every word that Helen said was alien and appalling to this intake girl, who was not a bear, who appeared to be made of ice-cream cake, caving in when exposed to the rank steam of our kitchen, her makeup dripping down her neck, pooling around popped zits. As she melted she resented us for it. As she melted, she became more sure of her duty.

“Who owns this place, or are you renting?” she asked.

“We own it in common,” Helen said. “We don’t really believe in private ownership.”

If Helen knew so goddamn much, then why didn’t she know when to shut the hell up? Instead, she opened her mouth and the whole room fell into it, window frames, bicycle, boxes, fiberglass, guts, and brains. All I could do was stand back and keep hold of Perley, dig my fingers in under his collarbone, those small caves, too small to crawl into and hide. Helen’s mouth was a drain, sucking everything in, leaving us no escape.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Actually, legally Helen owns it, but she shares it with us. And actually I think I do believe in private ownership, or at least no one has ever asked me my feelings on the issue.”

“It’s not like this is a case of neglect,” Helen said, standing up and taking a step toward the intake worker, who moved back, colliding with the rusted bike frame. “Neglect would be if we weren’t doing anything about the snakes. But this is a very organized household. We have a lot of plans. And if you need proof, I have proof. I’ll show you.” She wiped her hands on her shirt, smearing deer guts. She stepped up onto an upturned dresser drawer and took the Best Practices Binder down from its shelf. I watched dully, I am not proud to say. Hiding, hiding, hide him, was what echoed inside me, though I know I should have been more clever, more practical. I know it looked bad.

“There’s a best way to do nearly everything,” Helen said. “I don’t know if you know what it’s like to try to live simply, to do it yourself. I don’t know if you know what it’s like to live by a code, a system, to challenge yourself each and every day, to practice and prepare. But those are our watchwords up here.” She handed the binder to the intake worker. The girl took it gingerly in two hands, avoiding the place where Helen’s hand had been. Wincing, she sat down on the sofa.