We looped around the yard back and forth at a pretty good clip in the general direction of the house, like a deranged two-person conga line. "Serpentine!" my mother yelled as we rounded a tree. "Hopefully, she choked to death, but we can't be too careful, and there may be more of them."
"The dirt was a great idea."
"I always keep my dirt with me. Even caftans have pockets. Nobody takes away my dirt. You never know when you'll need it."
I was afraid to turn around. No doubt, Amy was at our heels, wielding a knife or an anti-aircraft missile. To my great surprise, we made it to the house. I slammed the door and locked it behind me. I took stock of my body parts. They were all there. No holes in odd places.
"We made it!" I hugged my mother and did a little dance.
She broke the embrace.
