" Ooh baby baby. Shit, Jared, tell me, what exactly is the point of everything that's happened? And why did / go into a coma? I can't explain anything. So maybe you can. Everybody treats me like I know the answers and that I won't tell them out of spite. I hate it."

"Well, Karen, you—how shall I say this—you accidentally opened certain doors. You were taking all those diet pills and starving your-self. Your brain did somersaults; you saw things; you caught a glimpse of things to come."

"For that I lost my youth? And for that matter, how come I was the one selected for coma duty? Huh? Did I ask? Who decided?"

"Mellow out, Kare—I mean, if you remember the note you gave Richard, you yourself wanted to sleep for 'a thousand years,' and avoid the future. You chose this, not me or anybody else. Worse things could have happened. I mean, you could have died completely. You could have had brain death."

"So why am I awake now instead of sleeping another nine-hundred-eighty-three years?"

"You woke up from your coma because you'd be able to see the present through the eyes of the past. Without you there'd be no one to see the world as it turned out in contrast to your expectations. Your testimony was needed. Your testament."

"Jared, nothing ever turns out the way it was intended. Just look at me." Karen looks at her legs and grimaces. "Oh, God. This is so bizarre. This is not what I was expecting life to be like. Hey wait— Jared—how come it's you here and not anybody else? I want to see my parents."

"I can't swing that, Kare. I'm your Official Dead Person. I'm the only person any of you knew who died when you were young. Because of this I register in your heads as the, umm, the deadest."

"The deadest? What a crock."

"Karen, forget about that for a second. Tell me—I have to ask you this: What is the main thing you noticed—the major difference between the world you left and the world you woke up into?"

Karen exhales heavily, as though she's having a massage and her tension is dissolving. She looks into the Save-On's dark interior and says, "Alack."

"A lack?"

"Yes. A lack of convictions—of beliefs, of wisdom, or even of good old badness. No sorrow; no nothing. People—the people I knew when I came back they only, well, existed. It was so sad. I couldn't allow myself to tell them.""What's so wrong with that—just existing, I mean?"

"I'm not sure, Jared. Animals and plants exist and we envy them that. But in people it just doesn't look good. I didn't like it when I came out of the coma and I still don't like it—even with just the few of us remaining here."

"And?"

"God, Jared—you're relentless. I know. Tell you what—you tell me who you slept with and I'll answer more of your questions."

"Karen, I dunno "

"Stacey Klaasen?"

"Okay, yeah."

"Jennifer Banks?"

"Yeah."

"Jennifer Banks's younger sister?"

"Guilty."

"I knew you two did it."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Annabel Freed?"

"Yes."

"Dee-Ann Walsh."

"Yup."

"God, Jared—we should have come and hosed you down like a mink in heat. Who didn't you make it with?"

"Pam."

"I could have guessed that."

"Wendy."

"I knewww that."

"I was going to meet her after the football game. It was in the cards. And now you have to answer more of my questions."

"Fair n'uff."

"You were talking about what was different about people when you woke up. Spill."

"All right already. Let's see. Give me a second." She scratches her chin while a wild animal screams within the Save-On. "I know— I remember when I first woke up how people kept on trying to impressme with how efficient the world had become. What a weird thing to brag about, eh? Efficiency. I mean, what's the point of being efficient if you're only leading an efficiently blank life?"

I egg her on. "For example?"

Karen pulls a blanket around herself, speaking as she moves. "I thought back in 1979 that in the future the world would—evolve. I thought that we would make the world cleaner and safer and smarter, and that people would become smarter and wiser and kinder as a result of all the changes."

"And … ?"

"People didn't evolve. I mean, the world became faster and smarter and in some ways cleaner. Like cars—cars didn't smell anymore. But people stayed the same. They actually—wait—what's the opposite of progressed?"

"In this case, devolved."

"People devolved. Hey, Jared—how come you know so many words now?"

"How to best explain … there's a certain aspect of the afterworld that's like English class and you're not allowed to skip. Anyway, forget that. You were talking about devolution."

"Yes. Megan—my daughter—she didn't even believe in the future before the world ended. She thought the future was death and crime and lawlessness. And as soon as the future actually did end, she took it in stride. She had a daughter, Jane, born blind and brain defective— probably because of all the crap in the air these days—and she simply assumed that's the way life should be. Actually, nobody believed in the future: Richard, Wendy—it's like they expected the end."

"How?" My body temporarily flares orange with anticipation.

"Drugs. Pam and Ham did smack—still do—or whatever they can find that's still fresh after one year because the notion of forty more years of time was, and continues to be, too much for them. Wendy lost herself in grueling routine. Linus apparently went away for years trying to figure out the meaning of life and he never found it and so he curled up inside himself and became dusty and slightly bitter. Megan had the baby born blind and with mental problems and sonow Megan's gone slightly autistic as a result. And Richard—Richard drank and placed all his hope in me. He thinks I don't know, but I do. You have to remember, Jared, I wasn't supposed to ever wake up. Richard could have spent his life mooning away about me and never have to deal with real life."

"All good points. But a bit harsh, wouldn't you say?"

"Jared, use your brain—look at me. I'm a monster. I'm like some UFO woman that Linus or Hamilton cooked up for TV movies. I gave up my body just so I could learn that the modern world was becoming sort of pointless and empty? A crappy trade."

"Okay, but answer me this: Would you have believed in the emptiness of the world if you'd eased into the world slowly, buying into its principles one crumb at a time the way your friends did?"

She sighs. "No. Probably not. Are you happy now? Can I have my body back?" Karen grabs Pam's cigarettes from the dashboard, lights one up, and then coughs.

"You smoke?" I ask.

"You jock. Yes, I'm smoking again as of now. Ooh. My head's dizzy. Hey—how's God?"

"Aw, Karen—don't be flippant. It doesn't suit you. This isn't social studies class."

"Oops—careless and stupid. But, how are you? I mean, you're dead. I don't want to be flippant. I'm really curious. Who wouldn't be?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm totally cool. But I am worried about you and the rest of the crew, though."

"Us? Forget us. We're losers. Who'd worry about us? Go find some winners and worry about them."

"Don't say that, Karen. It's just not true. It just isn't." Karen stares at me as though I've made a lame joke. "I have to go now—into the Save-On."

"Well I'm not going anywhere with these chopstick legs of mine. I feel like one of those glass birds that dips its beak into a glass of water. By the way, if you go in to see the others, Hamilton and Pam are going to drive you nuts.They spend their days shooting up and watching biography videos about the Duchess of Windsor, Studio 54, and Hollywood stars. They're losing themselves back in time. They talk all crazy."

"I can handle it."

"Hey Jared, you haven't answered many of my questions. Don't go. Quick, tell me, what's the deal? What happens next? Ten more years of this? Twenty? Thirty?"