“When I was a kid,” Em went on whispering, keeping our conversation on the childhood theme—or so I imagined—“I had a feeling, not as strong as a conviction, that I didn’t want a penis or a baby’s head in my vagina.” (That was when I realized we weren’t going down the childhood road.) “This didn’t mean I couldn’t love a child—I just didn’t want to give birth to one,” Em whispered. “And there were always other things I could imagine doing with a penis—just not in my vagina.” (For Em, a formerly nonspeaking person, I understood this was a lot to say—it was unforgettable as pantomime.) “When I met Nora, she already had her convictions—stronger than my feelings. Nora knew she wanted nothing to do with penises or having children—not only in her vagina. I just went along with what Nora wanted,” Em whispered.

I was reminded of the time the Gallows nixed the Two Dykes’ skit about things to do with a penis. Em’s pantomime was pretty clear about the rubbing; she would put a penis between her boobs or between her thighs, but nowhere else. This got a good laugh at the Gallows, but Nora’s punch line was why the comedy club pulled the plug.

“Not me,” Nora said onstage, in her deadpan way. “The only thing I would do with a penis is cut it off.”

Em wrote the Two Dykes’ dialogue, including Nora’s monologues; knowing how frequently Nora went off-script, ad-libbing her lines, I wondered if what Em had written about a penis for the stage was true, or just for laughs. Did Em feel the same way she’d felt about penises when she was a kid? The morning light was stronger now; I could see Em clearly. “I’m just like Matthew,” I whispered to her. “I want to see your scar again, too.”

“Your interest in my scar, Adam, is not the same as Matthew’s,” Em whispered back. She took my hand and put it under her T-shirt, placing my palm against her bare abdomen. “That’s my scar—you’re a writer; you can imagine it,” Em told me. She held my hand against her bare belly; if I closed my eyes, I saw her scar.