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"That spends well," I said

Worker stuff I still don’t knohere they went or what she did, but when she got back, her hair was one We didn’t talk about that, but we did watch a lot of black-and-white caper movies in the basement, and she let me smoke some of the unfiltered Gitanes she’d picked up in Paris

Poisonous jealousy thruuess I settled for Lila

CHAPTER SEVEN

I GET BACK TO THE OLD house in tioulash of some kind, thick with noodles and dotted with slivers of carrot and pearl onions I eat three plates and wash it all doith black coffee as the cat winds around my ankles I hand her down all the beef I can nonchalantly pick out

"How’d the doctor’s visit go?" Grandad is drinking coffee too, and his hand shakes a little as he brings the cup to his lips I wonder what else is in the cup

"Fine," I say slowly I don’t want to tell hi memories, but that leaves me with very little to say "They hooked ht there in the office?"

That did sound pretty unlikely, but there’s no backing do "I et some basic results A baseline, he said"

"Hu-uh," Grandad says, and gets up to clear the dishes "That must be why you were so late"

I pick up

Later that night, when I’m covered with dust but most of the upstairs is clean, atch Band of the Banned On it, curse workers who belong to a secret FBI tea dealers and serial killers

"You want to kno to tell if sorunt He’s saved the chair I hate and is sitting in it, his face lit with blue from the screen The hero of the show, MacEldern, has just kicked down a door while an ein a ra confession It’s pretty lae the station

I look at the blackened stuonna deny he’s got powers Everyone else thinks they got soot so to happen to soot loved Like every godda"

"Maybe they do have a little power," I say "Maybe everyone does"

Grandad snorts "Don’t go believing that crap You ht not be a worker, but you come from a proud worker family You’re too smart to sound like--wasshisnah LSD, they’d unlock their powers"

One in a thousand people is a worker, and of all of theame the odds Grandad should understand that

"Timothy Leary," I say

"Yeah, well, see how that turned out All those kids trying to give each other the touch, winding up half out of their heads, i they were dying fro each other apart The sixties and seventies were stupid decades, full ofto be prophets, pretending to be workers You kno many workers were hired just to do the work Fabulous Freddie said he did alone?"

There’s no point in trying to distract Grandad frootten started He loves the I’ve heard them about a million times before The best I can hope for is to push hiet hired by one of the back then?"

"I did what oldKnow souy who toured with Black Hole Band Physical worker Really good Someone pissed off the band, that soht emotion ould be more popular" Despite myself I’m drawn in Usually when he delivers this speech, I feel like he’s giving it to the rest of the fa it This time we’re alone And I think of all the stuff I’ve seen photos of on the Internet or on VH1 specials frooat heads, mermaids who danced in tanks until they drowned because the transfor when she’d cursed thee eyes All turning out to be the work of a single transformation worker who died of an overdose in her hotel roos and spoke gibberish

There aren’t any transformation workers for bands to hire to do any of that today, even if it was legal Theretime

"Well, no one can work a crowd Too ured what the heck; he’d ride out the blowback He’d let a whole crowd of people touch him, one after another, and "

"So the blowback would be euphoric too, right? Where’s the harm in that?"

The white cat ju the cushions with her claws

"See, that’s the problem with kids--that’s how you all think Like you’re i, no one ever thought of before He went crazy Sure, drooling, grinning, happy crazy, but crazy all the sas in the Brennan family, so at least they can afford to take care of hiain on his rant about the dueneral and worker kids in specific I reach over to pet the cat and it quiets under o to bed that night, I root through thepills and fall asleep with the cat atet up"

Grandad hands rateful for it My head feels like it’s packed with sand

I reach for my pants and pull them on My hands autoesture I realize so The aive Maura

Reo down on my knees and crawl under the bed Dust, paperback novels I haven’t seen in years, and twenty-three cents

"What are you looking for?" Grandad asks ," I say

When ere little, Mom would stand Philip and Barron and , that ere the only people we could really rely on Then she would touch our shoulders with her bare hands, each in turn, and ould be suffused with love for one another, suffocated by love