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bones like fried chicken. This other guy in Virginia, they got the voltage wrong on him, and the steam built up inside his head until his eyeballs popped and ran down his cheeks. The book I read had all these horror stories. If you made it the chair, you’d be able to use them.

9
    I consider myself sane. So does the State of Oklahoma. It's the only thing we agree on.
    There's a joke in here, "I'm as sane as the next person." Which over on the Row would be Darcy. She's in for running over her stepdaughter with her car. She didn't just run her over once; she got her caught between the bumper and the garage door and kept ramming her till the door broke. She lived a week. Darcy told me the whole story. Her boyfriend was sleeping with both of them and decided to go with the younger one. You might use that for Natalie and me, I don't know.
    When I was first in, I might have been insane. Lamont was gone, Natalie was still in the hospital, and I was coming down after a month of just going. I couldn’t think of anything. I'd look at the bolt holding the flange of the bunk on the wall and it would be fascinating, but it didn't mean anything. Nothing did. Everything was made of cardboard. The first time Mr. Jellenes Came to see me I could see the wires in his head, the gears that made Ins mouth go. He wanted to steal my secret number! so I put my hands over my eves. I held my breath to I wouldn't hear him. He talked like a recording on the phone; none of the words went together.
    "Well," he said, "that's all I've got," and stood up to go.
    The guard started to take me away, but he was still looking at me.
    "I know what you are," I said. "I saw you in the movie of angels. My dad is watching us on TV. He'll get you."
    A few years ago he played that tape for me. I recognized my voice but it wasn't me. Not that that's any excuse.
    People say it was all Lamont's fault, that he was the crazy one and we just did what he told us. I don't think that's true. It's easy to think that now. Like I said, it's different when you're there.
    When the detectives cleared out our apartment, I asked them to send me any pictures of Lamont they could find. There were a few envelopes from the Motophoto. I sat down on my bunk to look through them, and there we were sitting on the balcony at Mia Casa, kissing Gainey on each cheek. We were so young. There I was in my bikini, posing like a centerfold on the hood of the Roadrunner. There was even a bunch taken at a barbecue m the courtyard with Mrs. Wertz and all our neighbors. It looked like everyone was having a fine time. Even though I knew Natalie had to have taken some of them, Lamont looked happy with me, his arm over my shoulder, his cap pushed back. There was chicken and coleslaw and everyone had a can of beer, but I couldn't remember when they were taken, what day, what the weather was like. The girl in the pictures was skinny, with long hair, and smiled all the time. It was like looking at a good friend. someone who meant a lot to you once but that you hadn't seen in a long time.

    How do you tell if you're insane? I still talk to myself. I remember things that never happened and forget ones that did. Some days I pretend I'm cruising Meridian with Lamont and Gainey in his car seat. This is before Natalie, before any of that. We slide into Coney Island and park under the awning and take turns feeding him fries. We both have the chili-cheese foot-long with double onions, and Lamont has to finish mine. Later we roll over to Arcadia Lake and watch the sun set over the water and then go home, and when I'm almost asleep, when I'm lying here with Janille there going through the newspaper, I feel him reach for me. Is that insane?

10
    I dream every night. Normal dreams, I think. No more nightmares than anyone else. I don't see the Closes or Victor Nunez or anyone else from the Sonic coming to get me, if that's what you mean. I don't see Lamont or the knives or the fire. I'm not afraid to sleep.
    I dream of