“Eaten by worms if it is buried. Let’s rinse your hair.” He unwound the coiled handshower, and let the water run through her hair. When she wasn’t paying attention, he changed the gauge and finished her off with cold.

“Ugh, you’re horrible—you always do that.” She leaped out of the bath and scrambled for a towel.

“Good for your circulation—gets the blood to your head, so you’ll understand what we’re talking about.” Zeno had one towel wrapped around his midriff, another draped over his shoulders, and was flexing his hands.

“Want me to zone your tootsies?” he asked.

“Yes.”

She finished drying herself, put on her bathrobe and, spreading a dry towel along the bath mat, lay face down on it. Zeno kneeled down and took her left foot in his hands.

“In the East, the Brahmins teach their children rhythmic breathing when they’re nine.”

“What’s the Brahmins?”

“The ones who don’t eat meat.”

“Like us?”

“Like us.”

“Why do they do that?”

“Well, they understand that the most important thing in life is health, and, as health is absolutely dependent on breath, they figure nine is a good age to teach them awareness of it. Like eating food that’s good for you.”

“Because you are what you eat?”

“Well, your body is what you eat, so, bad food, bad body. But bad breathing can make for bad everything. And as they don’t teach it in schools, we thought we’d teach you at home.”

“Will it make me run better?”

“It will make you everything better. It may even make you able to see ghosts.”

Zen lifted her head and screwed it around to look at Zeno. “Ghosts?”

“Ghosts, or spirits. Yes, spirits would be a better word.”

“My friend Karma saw a ghost.”

“Did she?”

“It was after her granddad died. She saw him walking in the garden where they lived.”

“Was she scared?”

“I don’t think so. She went to tell her gran, but he’d gone by the time she fetched her.”

“Well, he wasn’t actually there.”

“She saw him.”

“I’m sure she did, but the only way you can see spirits is from the inner space.”

“There was a video called that,” offered Zen.

Zeno pressed on. “Like when you dream. You often see loved ones who have passed on. But they aren’t outside of you, are they? Not really.”

“You mean in the dream?”

“Yes, all the people in the dream are inside you—are part of your inner world. When you see a spirit and you’re awake, it’s almost the same thing.” He finished the narrow left foot and started on the right, gently rolling his clenched fist into the arch.

“But Karma saw her granddad outside. In the garden.”