Chapter 99

My sketchpad beckoned. When Wilbur and I returned with it, Carrie and Patrick were having a serious discussion about hormone therapy. Carrie had a ton of questions, many of which Patrick was able to answer. I joined him on the padded bench off to the side of the bed, and Wilbur settled at my feet. Jefferson and Calvin were with us, too, in mannequin form, just a couple feet away where we’d left them after “Sharp Dressed Man,” in front of the huge display of movie DVDs and music on CDs.

I did sketches of Carrie and Patrick flying, and then grabbed a box of crayons and two clipboards across the aisle in Office Supplies, so they could color their comic-book-like portraits as I started on another, one more true-to-life. True to life, but whose? This time, I had no idea who I was drawing.

“You’re so good!” Carrie said when she looked at herself and Patrick as superheroes. “I wish I had a talent.”