and insignificant in his clean khaki pants, as rosycheeked as somebody's favorite grandson. Bess tried to puzzle out what she had seen in him before, but her concentration kept breaking down. She looked at Jimmy's plump arms and wondered what it would be like to bite into him.
"Jimmy," said Hal. "Meet Aunt Victoria."
"Hello, ma'am," said Jimmy hesitantly.
"Go to hell, all of you!" sputtered Aunt Victoria's head. She was working at the wood to get an arm out. "I saw you last night."
"Sorry ma'am." Jimmy looked down. "I didn't . . . I mean . . . "
"Get me oudear!" Her face was growing red.
"Shouldn't we pull her out?" Jimmy asked.
"This is part of her exercise plan," said Hal.
"But she's screaming for help."
"We tried," said Bess. "We can't budge her."
"I've ggot to go," he said, putting his hands in and out of his pockets. "See you around, Bess." He hurried into his car and vroomed away.
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"How old is he, Bess, about twelve?" asked Hal.
"I don't know what I saw in him." Bess shook her head. "I was even going to let him poke me."
"Maybe he'll poke me instead," said Hal, wiggling his eyebrows.
"God, Hal," she said. "You've only been queer for three days, and already you're a slut."
Hal slapped his leg and laughed, and Bess felt the last scraps of her anger dissolve into the background of sirens.
Victoria's shouts had gradually turned to whimpers. Bess wished Victoria would stay angry, because her sadness was like the fin of some lone surviving sea monster showing above the water's surface, terrifying but heartbreaking. Bess's mother would never believe how things had turned out. Wherever her mother was, she'd want to think of Bess and Hal playing poker with Victoria, the three of them sitting together enjoying each other's company, telling funny stories.
"I'm calling 911," Bess said. Nobody argued.
When she returned from the house, Bess was relieved to hear Hal and Victoria fighting in their usual manner about Hal's taking more responsibility.
"I'm not paying rent in my own house," said Hal.
"What if I'm gone? How are you going to pay the bills then?" she demanded. Probably nobody but Hal and Bess would have understood all her rumbling.
"Yeah, but I've seen your bank statements. You've got over thirty thousand dollars in the bank. I work parttime for minimum wage."
"You keep out of my papers."
"You going to lock those up too?"
"They're sending someone over," said Bess. "It'll be just a couple minutes."
"Hey, Bess," said Hal. "I'm still hungry. Think we could get into that cupboard?"
"Stay out of my food," said Victoria. Sweat had softened and flattened the hair around her face. "That's my private food."
"I don't think we should," said Bess.
"And look!" said Hal. He waved Victoria's purse. "I'll bet the key's in here."
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"Give me my purse, you bastard!"
"Oh, no, Bess. The dyke is calling me a bastard." He fished through the purse, pausing to hand Bess some butterscotch candies, which she put in her front pocket.
"Keys!" he shouted and made them jingle. Bess wrapped two arms around Hal in an attempt to hold him back, but when he pulled away she followed. She couldn't yet bear to separate from the Hal of her childhood, her dominant twin.
The doors to the cupboard fell open to reveal a whole body of food—bagged, canned, and boxed. A sealed glass jar of pickled beef tongue stared out at them from eye level, repulsive with taste buds; Bess pushed it behind a box of baconcheddar snacks. The bottom shelf held canned fruit and meat, and the middle shelf had breakfast cereals and six varieties of snack cakes. On the top were chips, cheese curls and salted nuts.
"The train!" shouted Bess. "I forgot all about the train."
"We'll go look in a few minutes." Hal was gnawing on a beef stick. Fat oozed out the end. Victoria resumed wailing, competing with the fire trucks and police cars rushing to the wreck. Bess watched through the screen door as Victoria got one arm out. At first she waved it as