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left empty and wide open in the wake of the big die-off in town. "What, like Dr. Seuss?"
    Towers, who sat on the sofa between Sascha and Buzz, shook her head. "It was a weird story. I'm not even sure if he finished it, to tell the truth."
    "What was it about?" Sascha switched on a digital voice recorder and pointed it at Towers. "How much of it do you remember?"
    Towers cocked her head and frowned. "A good bit, actually. It starts like this: Long before these times in which we live, there was a boy in a bucket..."
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    The boy's name was Lucid, and he was born as a half-formed creature. Hands, like antlers, grew from the top of his head. A ring of teeth ran all around his face. He had mouths where his ears should have been, and a throbbing heart where his mouth should have been. Pulsing veins and arteries were his hair.
    Lucid was little more than a head and a sac full of organs in a wooden bucket. His tribe only kept him alive because he was the son of the chief...and because, as the son of the chief, he was considered a god.
    Someday, he would rule the tribe in his father's place. He was certainly smart enough for it. In fact, he was smarter than anyone. He had plenty of time to think in that bucket of his.
    That was how he came up with his plan. The one that began the day after his father, the chief, died.
    "Most of you can't stand to look at me." That was what he said when they placed his bucket on the throne. His voice was like the croaking of a toad. "You need to get used to seeing me as your chief and your god.
    "That is why," said Lucid, "I will come to live with each of you for a week at a time. I will eat with you at your tables. I will sleep with you in your beds. You will come to think of me as a member of your families.
    "Now who wants to be first?"
    No one volunteered, so Lucid made the choice.
    And one by one, the families of the tribe took turns living with him. Feeding him through the slimy mouths on the sides of his head. Cleaning his soiled bucket. Watching his deformed body day in and day out, squirming and oozing and pulsating.
    Feeling his rubbery flesh nestle against them in their beds in the night, slithering against their bare skin in ways that made them shudder, ways they would never
    Forget...
    Forget forget forget...
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    I forget!
    Damn it!
    They made me forget the best parts of it! The story Espinoza told Towers, and Towers told Buzz and the sisters!
    My story! They made me forget parts of my own story! Parts of my self !
    Those damned LaVerge sisters!
    I wish you could see me the way I was meant to be seen. I wish you could read me in my entirety. I guarantee, you wouldn't be able to resist me.
    Sometimes, I feel like the missing pieces are still there. Maybe, if I just look in the right places, I could find them and put myself back together.
    Maybe, if I follow the parts I still remember, they'll lead me to the parts I've lost.
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    *****
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    "You're wrong, Sergeant." Carrol flicked cigarette ashes in her cupped hand. "This story isn't weird. It's twisted ."
    "It's disgusting ," said Sascha. " Demented ."
    "I don't get it," said Buzz. "It doesn't make sense."
    Towers shrugged. "Don't ask me. I didn't write the story. All I can do is tell you the rest..."
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    *****
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    After many weeks, Lucid had finished his visits with the members of his tribe. Never before had the tribe gotten to know him so well.
    And never before had they been so glad to get away from him.
    But Lucid was not done with his plan, and he would not leave his tribesmen alone for long. Soon, he called them together for more announcements.
    "Thank you for welcoming me into your homes." Lucid sloshed in his bucket as he turned from side to side, taking in the crowd from his bamboo throne. "I finally feel accepted and loved by you all. I truly feel as if I am part of your families now."
    The tribe applauded because they were happy it was over.
    "In fact, I am so moved by your hospitality and