(Delta) was too young to have a personality yet; she just wanted to carry the eggs. She wanted to be rolled over on her back and tickled until she was fat with eggs. You could see it in her stripes, all proud and raspberry pink.

They were dancing.

It was the dance of (restlessness until we rest). They curled in and out of each other, sliding and stroking and tickling the sparks off each other's fur. I wanted to join them. I wanted to grow pink fur of my own. But I could wait. I knew that my own fur would come in time. And then I could link with the worms too.

There was so much they had to teach me. And I, them.

They had to know what to watch out for. The world outside the gumdrop was still too raw, too wild, not yet awakened.

They (rested). They (linked). They (sang).

The (song) included me. I could feel myself in the (music). I would descend into it like a well, deeper and deeper, and as I did, I stopped being me and began to become (myself).

I (hugged).

I (tingled). All over. (Linked).

"Come on, Jimbo."

"Huh?"

"l said, come on. It's time to go."

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. We were still in the worm nest.

He put his hand on my shoulder. It reminded me of that time in the shower. I climbed to my feet. I was cold.

"Where are the worms?"

"They're gone," he said. "And now it's time for us to go too. Come on. We found out what we needed to. Let's get out of here."

"What did we find out?"

"You don't have the words for it any more. Come on." He sounded impatient.

"I'm cold."

"I know. This way. It'll be warmer in a minute." He grabbed me and started pushing me toward the tunnel. I staggered and fell; he said a bad word and helped me up again.

"Sorry."

"Just keep walking. I can't do this all myself. You're going to have to help me." He ducked under my shoulder and pulled my arm across his back. "Hang on," he said, and half-carried me up the tunnel. We were both naked. Why was that? There was something about a naked man--

The nest seemed a lot darker now. As if someone had turned out all the lights. The vines weren't pumping any more either. Was the nest dying? Or just turned off?

Outside, the sky was black and the ground was bright. The stars were pink. The sun was cold. The clouds were complete. They swirled and billowed upon themselves; they were a massive ceiling to the world.

"Where are we?"

"Same place. Just keep walking, Jimbo. It's very important. Just keep walking."

All the plants were flat and blasted. They glowed in death as if they were lit from the inside. The shadows floated upward. The dust drifted up and away. Our eyes were lit from within too. But I couldn't see the pixies any more.

"Easy boy-close your eyes if it helps."

"I wanted to go back to sleep."

"You will in a minute. First things first."

"Who are you?"

"Jim boy, you know me. I'm you. You're me. We're us. Now, just keep walking. Keep walking and I'll teach you how to flame."

"Uh-uh. You can't teach me how to flame. You said it can't be taught. "

"I lied."

I stumbled and fell. The ground was very hard. I decided to rest a bit. I could get up later.

"Jim-come on, get up!"

"Later. I need to sleep a bit first."

"No, Jim. Now!"

"No," I said and curled up.

"Poppies!" Someone was cackling over me. "Poppies."'

I opened my eyes in annoyance. "What? Are we that close to the Emerald City? I don't even have any ruby slippers. Leave me alone. That's somebody else's story. Why is that old bitch picking on me?"

"Because you're ugly and your mother undresses you funny. Good, Jim-come on. Hold onto my hand. Step into the light, you're out of the night-you know how it goes. One foot in front of the other."

"I don't want be crazy any more," I said. "I'd rather be dead. I'd rather be Ted. I'd rather be led-"

"Okay, I'll lead you." He pulled at my arm. "Come on. I'll be Peter Pan and you can be one of the lost boys-"

"Can we fly?"

"Yes, we can fly."

"Really? We can really fly?"

"Yes, we can."

"Then why do we have to walk. Let's fly-"

"You'll have to concentrate."

"I will. I wanna fly."

"Lift your arms. Hold onto my hand now. Up, up, and away-"

"Are you Superman, too?"

"I'm anyone you need me to be. Anyone you want me to be."

"Are we flying now?"

"Look down."

I looked. We were rising up gracefully, up over the field, the nest, the van--

I giggled.

"Good, Jimmy boy. That's real good. Keep it up. Just a little bit longer."

"This is hard work, flying."

"I told you, you'd have to concentrate. That's it, flap your arms. Move your legs a little too. Yeah, just like you're walking." We were drifting sideways. The glow across the ground was the reflection of our light. The van looked like it was melting. We were sinking toward it.

"I can't keep it up," I said.

"It's all right, we're almost there. Just lower your wheels for a safe landing and you'll be just fine."

"And put up the tray tables and bring your seat backs to a full upright position," I added. We bumped across the ground and collapsed against the door of the van. I slid it open and fell halfway in. He helped me lift my legs up. We closed the door together and climbed, staggered, fell into bed and rolled into each other's arms and held onto each other as hard as we could while the night roared around us with loud sweet purple noises.

He smelled so good.

The bright sunlight glaring in my eyes woke me up.

I was lying on a rumpled blanket on the floor of the van. I was alone. The sunlight slanted in sideways through the front window. I sat up. I was naked. My skin had an oily feel to it, and I felt a peculiar light-headedness. I wasn't dizzy, but I felt like I was floating two inches in the air, drifting rather than sitting.

I rubbed my eyes and looked around for-what was his name?-he was gone. He hadn't even kissed me goodbye. What the . . . ?

I remembered some of it.

The gumdrop. The nest. The glowing blue fur on the walls. The worms. The (names). The (song). The-that part, I couldn't quite identify.

And then somebody had come and lifted me up and walked me out of the nest. I remembered it. We had gone to Emerald City. And then we had flown back to the van. That was the clearest part of all. And then we had made love.

I really was crazy.

My hallucinations were more real than reality.

I got out of the van and padded around naked, examining the ground. The only footprints were mine. The only tire tracks were mine.

No.

This was stupid.

He was real. Hallucinations don't get that intense. We'd made love. I remembered the feel of him and the smell of him too vividly.

What was going on inside my head? Was it actually possible to have delusions that realistic?

This was-very confusing.

Shit.

I gathered up what few of my clothes I could find and tossed them in the back of the van. I pulled on a jumpsuit and slippers and wondered what I should do.

"I could still kill myself," I suggested.

"Nah," I replied. "That doesn't sound like anywhere near as much fun as it did yesterday."