“The part of my brain that works is the back part. You know the part back of my head,” Gladys went on in the happy way people who like to talk about themselves do. This caused us all to look at the prominent rats’ nest tangle of at least a week’s vintage residing there.

Gladys lifted a fork and waved it idly around over her hair as she spoke so that little bits of burnt salmon dropped into it. We were all getting an idea of how she came to be so unkempt, because she made no effort to get the fish bits out again. There was a pink salmon chunk sticking up and because it was on top of her head it looked like some brain had come poking through to hear her lecture on the parts of it. It mesmerized us. We just kept staring. Zebediah giggled.

Gladys gave him a look that would have withered a lesser person and said, “You see, people, they either have the back or the front part of their brain working. Never both. And if you’ve got the back part, well, then it’s no good trying to do stuff with the front. Because it will never work. It will just make a mess. It will just burn the fish. The thing you have to do is distract the front so you can work with the back. Great cooks use the back. Artists use the back. Psychics, that is to say me, use the back.”

“Who uses the front?” asked Wilfred, blinking inquisitively behind his large lenses.

“Factory workers,” said Gladys.

“I want to be a factory worker when I grow up,” said Winifred, surprising all of us and making us sit up a bit, tilting our heads at her inquiringly.

“Really? What kind of factory?” I asked, happy to get off the subject of Gladys’s brain.

“I don’t care,” said Winifred.

“I believe that’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone say that,” said Sina, continuing to stare at Winifred tilt-headed. I could see Winifred had gone up in her estimation.

“When we were in grade four we had to pick what we wanted to be when we grew up and make a poster. When I said factory worker everyone laughed, but I didn’t care. I made one rule for myself and that is never to pretend to be something I’m not.”

“That’s very admirable, dear,” said Sina. “And very liberating, I would think. I’m sure you’ll be a heck of a factory worker.”

“We’re getting off the subject of how to distract the front part of my brain,” said Gladys, sullenly pushing her burnt food away.

“Uh-huh,” said Sina, who had given up and put cornflakes and milk on the table and was passing out bowls. “And how do you propose doing that?”

“I’m glad you asked,” said Gladys, perking up. “A radio would work a treat. I could listen to it with the front part of my brain, and that would distract it enough to get the back part going.”