came out I walked straight into a thin old woman with wiry hair and
large, square glasses.
“This bathroom is for senior management only,” she said. “Bottle
fillers must use the bathroom in the annex.”
“I don’t work here,” I said.
She stared at me. Of course I worked here. Everyone worked here.
“This bathroom is for senior management,” she repeated,
straightening to her full height. “You are not allowed to leave the
annex.”
She walked away before I could reply.
I still hadn’t seen either of my parents. I weaved my way back
through the house and found Drew on the sofa, listening to a woman
explain that aspirin can cause infertility. I grasped his hand and pulled
him behind me, cutting a path through the strangers.
“Is this place for real?” he said.
I found Mother in a windowless room in the basement. I had the
impression that she was hiding there. I introduced her to Drew and she
smiled warmly. “Where’s Dad?” I said. I suspected that he was sick in
bed, as he had been prone to pulmonary illnesses since the explosion
had charred his lungs.
“I’m sure he’s in the fray,” she said, rolling her eyes at the ceiling,
which thrummed with the thudding of feet.
Mother came with us upstairs. The moment she appeared on the
landing, she was hailed by several of her employees with questions
from clients. Everyone seemed to want her opinion—about their burns,
their heart tremors, their underweight infants. She waved them off and
pressed forward. The impression she gave as she moved through her
own house was of a celebrity in a crowded restaurant, trying not to be
recognized.
My father’s desk was the size of a car. It was parked in the center of
the chaos. He was on the phone, which he’d wedged between his cheek
and shoulder so it wouldn’t slip through his waxy hands. “Doctors can’t
help with them diabetes,” he said, much too loudly. “But the Lord can!”
I looked sideways at Drew, who was smiling. Dad hung up and
turned toward us. He greeted Drew with a large grin. He radiated