I was sitting on a couch watching TV and there were three girls sitting with me. One of them was my sister, or so she said, and she was explaining to the others about me, that I’d been in an accident but I was getting better. She made those quote marks around “accident.” On the TV a squirrel was industriously scraping at the gap between bricks in the base of a wall. Maybe it was a chipmunk. He had pried loose a lot of the grout and managed to get inside the wall almost all the way, and he’d wiggle in there, and then he’d come out and scrape more grout. A chipmunk, I’m pretty sure.

“But you know who you are?” one of the girls asked.

“He does, sometimes,” my sister said. “Don’t you Andrew?”

I nodded.

“He’s cute,” one of the girls said. She had her hand on my knee.

“He had lots of girlfriends,” my sister said.

“Where are they now?” the girl asked.

“Good question,” my sister said.

“Well, I could be his girlfriend,” the other girl said. “Right, Andrew?” she said to me. “I mean who’s to say?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“Do you remember anything?” she asked.

I tried to think. Gray. Battleship gray? But it was an aircraft carrier. The deck of an aircraft carrier. The sky was gray, but I knew I shouldn’t look up. The sea was gray. I shouldn’t look down. I shouldn’t look up or down. How could planes land with all that gray. I had my paw on the—no, not my paw, my hand—on the surface. Not smooth, not rough. Some rubber or something like rubber, probably from the wheels, the tires, of the planes, scaped off when they landed. All the way to the end. And over. “Not really,” I said to the girl. Her hand was making circles on my knee. “That’s sad,” she said. “But I’m glad you’re getting better.” I nodded.

Now the squirrel, I mean chipmunk, had hollowed out sufficient space behind the bricks that he could get in all the way, but he kept coming back out, then going back in again. In and out, in and out.

The girl had unbuttoned my shirt. Her hand was on my chest. Making those little circles around and around. “Does this feel good?” she asked. I looked for my sister, the girl who said she was my sister, but she wasn’t there. “Marci, you do the other one,” the girl with the circling hand said to the other girl. “Should I?” the other girl said. “You should,” the first girl said. “It feels really nice. Doesn’t it feel nice, Andrew?” It did feel nice. I said, “I guess so.” “Pinch him now,” the first girl said. They both pinched me. “This is how we prime you,” the first girl said. They pinched me more. More and more. “See, his cock is getting there, getting fat and firm. We should unbutton you so we can see for sure.” “Yes,” said the other girl, “Unbutton him.”

“Do you know where my sister is?” I asked.

“Yes, she went to make coffee,” one of the girls said. She was unbuttoning her blouse while the other girl unbuttoned me.

“Have you ever had sex?” she asked.

I said I didn’t know.

“You’d think he would remember something like that,” the other girl said.

“You’d think,” the other girl said. Her blouse was unbuttoned. Her breast was near my mouth. “Go ahead,” she said. The nipple felt soft against my lips, barely more than a puff of air.

The other girl had her hand around my cock. “He’s nice,” she said. “Big and warm.”

“We’re going to fuck you now,” the other girl said.

The TV showed the brick wall with the hole. The squirrel or chipmunk was not to be seen. I looked up. Then I was in the air, being carried off. That’s the last thing I remember

before everything went dark.