I was considering what to do for Moch’s latest assignment—Turning Points. Something abstract but not, I thought. Before I’d firmed up even a semblance of an idea, Elaine came over.

“Niah, I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she began.

I waited, forgetting to say, “No, not at all, I was only this or that.” Sometimes I lose track of ordinary ... something.

“Um, well,” she continued. This time I nodded encouragingly. “Um, Harker and I were out for a walk the other day...”

I waited again, and when Elaine didn’t continue, or maybe she was just about to, I interrupted with, “Where is Harker? Is he okay?”

“I guess,” Elaine said. “He went bowling with some of his buddies.”

“How come you didn’t go?”

Elaine shrugged. “Me and bowling—I think I might be allergic to it.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “The noise of it. Drives you crazy. Especially when the ball rolls down the alley, a kind of wobbly sound, falls into the gutter, and continues on its tortoise-slow way without disturbing a single bowling pin.”

“Anyway,” Elaine continued, “I thought he deserved some time with his buddies, you know?”

“I didn’t know Harker had buddies,” I said.

Elaine thought about this for a moment. Then she took out her phone and showed me a picture of a field.

“Nice,” I said. “Pretty.”

“I thought so too,” Elaine said. “Harker and I went for a walk the other day. I mean we go for walks most days, but this was a long one in another direction.”

“Probably not down or up,” I said.

Elaine chuckled. “Right. I mean not right as in right or left, although more right then left.”

“You were meandering,” I suggested.

“Right. I mean ... You know what I mean.”

“If you want to end up where you started you could do nothing but right turns. Or you could go right and then at some point turn around so you would be going left. Right?”

Elaine laughed. “What goes up must come down,” she said.

“So I take it you walked past this field of flowers.”

“We did!” Elaine exclaimed. “I mentioned to Harker that when I was a kid we called these kind of flowers pee weeds.”

“Probably not the scientific name.”

“Probably not. I have no idea why we called them that. Probably just learned the name from some kids who learned it from some kids who learned it from some kids.”

“I never learned it,” I said.

“Neither did Harker. But he told me that now that I’d mentioned it—the name pee weeds—he really had to go.”

“Power of suggestion,” I said.

“We were on this tiny, quiet road, no houses anywhere but the one. I told Harker, ‘Go ahead. Go.’ ‘You sure it’ll be all right?’ he asked. I said I was sure. He said, ‘You sure you don’t mind?’ I told him I wouldn’t mind. I told him if he needed help, I could ... He said no he was a big boy. I told him I was going to help him anyway. I helped him. By that I mean I unzipped his pants and got his penis out and held it while he peed. Niah, it was so fun! I love the feel of it. I loved the sound of his pee smacking the weeds. The sound was sort of like the chirpy drizzle of insects. Hm, I wonder if that’s why ... anyway, it was fun.”

“Sounds like it,” I said.