You spend another morning on the beach, this time a different one. It’s meant to be queer but it’s like you’re the only gay around.

 “I have to go to court to change my name back to my own name?” I challenged the voting commissioner to disenfranchise me.

She doesn’t even know if tonight will erase her brother’s odious laughter from her memory. All she knows is that for the first time in her eight and a half years, Mason deserves to be punished.

“That’s my daughter. She ran off. They found her a couple towns away,” Mannie said. “If you’re gonna stay here for a while, you better wash up. I can’t have you getting blood on the carpet.”

When we found ourselves approaching the topic’s borders, one of us would inevitably duck—generally me. On occasion Julie would land a glancing jab, but never a knock-out. The issue: She wanted children; I did not.