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    “Maggie,” you say. “What’s wrong?” You are awake now. And a little freaked.
    And guess what? You do not think this is about you.
    “Can you pick me up at my house? Like, right now?” she says in a low, hoarse whisper.
    “Now,” you repeat. You realize you do that a lot these days — repeat words to stall for time.
    But why do you need to stall for time? There is only one right answer.
    “Please,” she whispers urgently.
    “I’m on my way,” you say at the same moment.
    “Oh, Ducky,” she says and hangs up the phone.
    Your bro is still sleeping like a baby when you rocket off the premises.
    You leave him a note.
    Like he’s ever gonna wake up and notice your absence.
    You get to the Blumes’ and think maybe you shouldn’t ring the doorbell, since it is so late.
    Then you notice that lights are on. Everywhere. If the house were any brighter, it would look as if it were on fire.
    And it would be a big fire too, considering the size of the house.
    You ring the bell.
    The door opens a crack. You see one of Maggie’s eyes. She whispers, “We’ll be right out.”
    You can barely hear her. Not because she is whispering.
    Because someone is shouting in there.
    Loud, incoherent shouting. You hear things breaking. You hear music turned WAY up.
    You flinch at the sound of something big smashed into small pieces as Maggie shuts the door in your face.
    Moments later Maggie emerges — holding Zeke’s hand. He’s still pj’d but he’s wide-awake.
    His eyes have that round, little-kid look. Scared, sleepy, like maybe it’s all just a nightmare that Mommy will come fix.
    Mommy’s not available, kid. She might as well be in Crete.
    You’re pretty sure about that, even though Maggie sys not one word to you on the ride back to your house. She just rocks Zeke and makes this crooning sound.
    You lead the way into the house, not sure what else to do.
    You stash Maggie and Zeke in the parents’ room, which has its own bathroom, in case Zeke has any off-hour runs to make.
    You haul out clean sheets and produce clean towels.
    “We’ll take care of it,” Maggie says. She hands the towels to Zeke. “Why don’t you go put these in the bathroom for us,” she says.
    He obeys. He seems glad to have a job to do.
    You say to Maggie, as she stands in the door of the room, “Are you okay?” figuring maybe she sent Zeke away so you could have a quick chat.
    “Yes,” she says. “Thank you, Ducky. Thank you for not asking any questions.”
    “No problem,” you say, taking the hint. “Good night. Call me if you need anything.”
    Maggie nods. It is the nod of a tired, much older woman.
    She closes the door.
    You feel like you should stay awake and keep watch. Sit outside the door.
    Pace the hall.
    But you know this is pointless.
    Time to zzz.
    Like Ted’s been doing this whole time.
    Aug. 28
    Saturday
    8:45 A.M.
    You wake up. You think you’ve gone to sleep with the radio on.
    Because you are hearing voices.
    But no. The little voices are NOT coming from the bedside box.
    They’re coming from … the kitchen.
    You throw on some clothes, speed to the kitchen, and hover outside the kitchen door.
    The voices are Maggie’s and Ted’s. They are chatting away like old friends.
    Time to make a guest appearance before Ted says something really stupid.
    10:30 A.M., More or Less
    Ted IS A JERK.
    As you walk into the kitchen and say good morning, he gives you this BIG, TOTALLY
    OBNOXIOUS guy-to-guy wink.
    His eyes cut to Maggie.
    You get it.
    You wish you didn’t.
    Ted the Dumb thinks Maggie is your girlfriend and that she has spent the night.
    Maggie doesn’t catch this, of course. She is pouring you a cup of coffee.
    You give Ted your death-ray look.
    Then all is redeemed by Zeke trekking down the hall calling, “Maggie? Maggie, I’m hungry!”
    Ted is blown away. The random collection of cells he calls a brain crashes.
    As Zeke comes into the kitchen, you enjoy the moment.
    In Ted’s limited universe, Zeke