TJ and Ladarius sat with the crazy girl at a black metal table and chairs outside on the deck. The girl said she didn’t want her father or stepmother to smell any weed in their vacation home or else there would be hell to pay. She also insisted that the for sale signs out by the road were just a big misunderstanding with the bank. And how her daddy, some hot-shit car dealer up in Fayetteville, already had the whole mess sorted out. The girl had the hood of the cheetah coat up on her head, her face shadowed as she burned down the joint to an orange pinprick.

“It’s called the Southern Star,” TJ said. “And there were two men. But yeah. That’s pretty much it. Momma had had a lot to drink, which ain’t too different from most nights, but she managed to get the knife and cut one man before navigating her way home.”

“While smashed?”

“Yeah,” TJ said. “Momma was pretty shitfaced when she got home. Lots of what she said didn’t make a heck of a lot of sense. I did my best to calm her down, make sure she quit her crying. I took her bloody clothes and got her in the shower. When she finally settled down a bit, she was scared she’d killed the man. And that she might go to jail and those folks with the state would take her babies.”

“Your mom has babies, too?” the girl said. “Damn.”

“No,” TJ said, shaking her head. “You ain’t listening. We’re her babies. Me and John Wesley. That’s just what she calls us.”

“Y’all are a little old to be called babies,” the girl said. “I’m just saying.”

Behind the girl’s shoulder, back in the mansion, TJ could see Holly peeking out from the curtains. She’d stayed inside trying to console John Wesley, telling the boy that everything was just fine and dandy. When Holly noticed TJ staring back, the curtains dropped and Holly disappeared. TJ turned to the girl and said, “You never told us your name.”

“Chastity.”

“Chastity?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It means a woman who can’t have sex. I mean, ever.”

“I know what chastity means.”

Ladarius smiled, nearly laughed, and had to cover up half his face with his hand. He reached out and the girl, Chastity, handed back what was left of the joint.

“Back in the dark ages, men used to put these things called chastity belts over a girl’s privates,” Chastity said. “When the men would go off and fight in the wars or crusades or some shit, they’d take the key with them. Isn’t that messed up?”

“How’d they pee?” TJ asked.

“I don’t know,” Chastity said. “Maybe they had a maid or a trusted servant who would unlock it for them. Anyway, I used to get called Chastity Belt all the time. So many times. How’s your belt, Chastity? You still got it locked down tight, Chastity? Well. I don’t want to talk too much. But my parents sure named me wrong. Nobody ever locked up my parts. My parts are mine, wild and free.”