Waiting for FKK to take him to the next meeting. A black car he’s never seen pulls up in the driveway. Jo rolls the window down, holds out an arm. Hey whore, she says. Bet you couldn’t hear me coming. He stands, brushing his hands on his hips. What happened to your car? he asks. She grins. I sold it. Slapping the shiny door with her palm. Plug ’n’ play, bitches. Inside, the smell of plastic and microfiber and Jo’s new earthy scent, she doesn’t smoke anymore and washes her hair with what looks like a bar of soap, infused with hemp, Leni gave him some once and Erik took one sniff and said, Dear god. The new car weirdly quiet. When did you get it? This morning, Jo beams. It’s the first one in the county. I had to order it three months ago. Oh, Xie says. Blisters itchy on his palms, he hides them in his cuffs. They turn down roads he’s never seen, pavement turning to dirt, lightless except for the car. Are you sure you know where you’re going? Leni asks. Yes, Mother, Jo replies, because I know how to read a map. The headlights suddenly hit the white sides of a partially demolished three-story house. Something out of a horror film: broken glass, graffiti, whole walls missing and something green growing out of one side. Holy fuck, Leni whispers. It’s fine, Jo says. Leni doesn’t move. I said it’s fine. Leni sliding in slow motion from the car. In one of the rooms on the first floor the strong smell of weed and sweat, a younger crowd with intense eyes and cagey posture, a few familiar to Xie but most of them strangers, no Peter, though they all seem to know Jo and she slips among them as cool as he has ever seen her, slapping hands, chin tipped, Leni at her elbow, trying to hide her overbite by pushing her jaw out, turning to beckon Xie but he doesn’t follow. Suddenly tired, stuck, old bad feeling in his guts, what am I doing here. Wasting time. He circles back through what used to be a kitchen, great holes in the blackened linoleum showing straight through to a dirt basement. In the front room a cat paces in a figure eight, interior walls stripped to the studs, trash and old paint and sawdust littering the floor and every window broken open onto the night. Various species of shit petrified in the corners. Candles stuck in their own wax. The cat brushes its nose against his hand and he touches its back. Dozens of people spread throughout the house, footsteps overhead, Xie waiting for them to fall through the ceiling, careful to stay away from the center of the room. The cat threading between his legs and the wall. A girl comes in, alone, her eyes nervous around the room before meeting his, long blond hair from beneath a black beanie, tights and black velvet skirt, black jean jacket.