Page 61 of The Rat

“Only because of themedication.”

Ollie shrugged, and Rory tappedhis temple. “It hasn’t fixed anything going onin his head, only put a block onit, or a veil or whatever.”

“End result’s the same though. He’ssleeping now when he wasn’t before.”

“But he’s nothimself.”

“But what is the ‘self’ exactly?”

Rory groaned, and clutched hisbrow. “Don’t start this again. Why the hell did you take that philosophyclass?”

“I took all the classes, evendrama.Apparently, they do a big show at the end of the year, theyhaven’t said what yet, but hopefully I’ll get to be somethinggood.”

“Not a tree…”

Ollie narrowed his eyes. “Not a tree,a speaking part.”

“Could be a speakingtree.”

“Whatever, you betterwatch, you better be moved to tears.”

“Jesus, what’s gonna happen tothis tree. Will it be cutdown? Burned as firewood?”

Ollie kicked him under the table andhe yelped.

“That hurt.”

“You deservedit.”

Rory snorted. “What class istoday?”

“Creative writing, Teddygoes to it,too.”

“Does he write aboutmaggots by any chance?”

“Do you want me to kickyouagain?”

“Is that a seriousquestion?”

They both laughed, then Ollie shook hishead.

“I was wrong about themaggots.”

“You didn’t know they wereso important to him.”

“No, I didn’t mean that.They weren’t maggots.”

Rory frowned down at the table.“What werethey then?”

“Caterpillars. He showed mea book in the library, pointed them out.”

“How the hell did he getcaterpillars?”

Ollie shrugged. “No idea.”

“What are you doing increative writing?”

“Poetry.”

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