"I can't take this," she said. "I just can't take it."

Trying to sound reassuring, I said, "It'll be okay. I'm sure there are other people like us around." I could tell she was on the verge of one of her meltdowns. It was something I didn't think I could handle just then, as I was barely keeping it together myself. Give her a few minutes to cool down, I thought. "Listen, you take it easy for a little while," I said. "I'm just going to run over to the stoner house and take a look. I'll come right back."

"No! By yourself? No way, buster, we'll drive."

"Mum, it's twice as long to drive. From here I can just cut across the field, and I'll be back in five minutes. You know how careful I am."

She was wavering, not sure what to do. With her graying hair and her housecoat, she suddenly looked very old and sad.

Trying to clinch it, I said, "You know nobody's even going to be there. I mean, look around!" I waved at the ranks of empty cottages. "I'll be right back, I promise."

With a worn-out nod, she said, "Okay, but don't scare me."

"I won't." I bolted from the porch.

Cutting across backyards and sparse woods, I felt exhilarated, free. At times my mother was a planet unto herself, with a dense, claustrophobic atmosphere and heavy gravity. She needed company, and it was my lot to provide it. Being alone never bothered me; I often thought I would do well in solitary confinement, as long as I had access to books. Of course, being cooped up in that cabin with her for more than a month didn't help. As my head cleared I even began to wonder if the whole Agent X business wasn't pure delirium. Not that I could believe that, but it was so unreal.

I stopped to pee beside a vine-covered stone wall, listening to the trickle in the silence. It was so damn peaceful-yes, maybe there was nothing to be afraid of.