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Eventually Dr Spanger chalked the whole thing up to a ered by stress, grief, and unresolved grandpa issues In other words: I’d gone a little nuts, but it was probably a one-ti much better now, thank you Still,for ain--but I was on ood kid and penitent son like I was out to win an Oscar I volunteeredout in plain view of my watchful parents I watched TV with theered at the table after meals to participate in the inane discussions they liked to have--about bathroo, homeowners’ association politics, fad diets, birds (There was never randfather, the island, or my "episode") I was pleasant, kind, patient, and in a hundred ways not quite the son they reht I’d been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone or so And after a feeeks, it was dee the family around, and this uncle or that aunt would drop by for a little coffee and stilted conversation, and so I could demonstrate in person how sane I was

Weirdly, my dad never mentioned the letter Emma had left for him back on the island, nor the photo of her and Abe tucked inside it Maybe it wasabout it with er a relapse Whatever the reason, it was like it never happened As for having actually o dismissed that as a bizarre dreaht er’s explanations for my behavior They could’ve probed deeper, probably--asked otten a second or third opinion from other psychiatrists--but they really wanted to believe I was doing better That whatever drugs Dr Spanger had put , they wanted our lives to return to norer I was hoh, I was struggling to adjust I was bored and lonely The days dragged I had thought, after the hardships of the past feeeks, that the comforts of home would be sweeter, but pretty soon even laundered sheets and Chinese takeout lost their luster My bed was too soft My food too rich There was too uilty and decadent So mall aisles on an errand withon the ry Why did we have more than we knehat to do with, while they had less than they needed to stay alive?

I had trouble sleeping I woke at odd hours, h I’d given Emma my address and checked the mailbox several times a day, no letters had arrived fro from them--teeks, then three--the an to seem Had it really happened? Had it all been a delusion? In dark moments, I wondered What if I was crazy?

So it washome, a letter finally arrived fro s were going The return address was a post office box in London, which Eh to the Devil’s Acre loop entrance that she could sneak into the present fairly often and check it I wrote back the sa two or three letters a week As ho, those letters beca one, so every day I stalked the mailman and dashed out to meet hiested to Emma that we trade e-mails instead, which would have been safer and faster, and I filled several pages atteht find a public Internet café and create an e-mail address--but it was hopeless; she’d never even used a keyboard The letters orth the risk, though, and I ca sweet about holding a tangible thing that had been touched and marked upon by someone I loved

In one letter she included a few snapshots She wrote:

Dear Jacob, things are finally getting interesting around here again Remember the people on display in the basement, the ones Bentha He kidnapped the Mother Dust’s powder to keep the to power hisdifferent types of peculiars as batteries--but nothing worked until your hollowgast Anyway, Mother Dust confessed to having known about it, which explains why she was acting so strangely I think Bentha to hurt Reynaldo if she didn’t help hi us wake everyone up and return thehtful loops Isn’t that just purethe Panloopticon to explore all sorts of places and ood for us to see how other peculiars live around the world I found a ca on our last excursion, and I’ve included a few of the photos I took Bronwyn says I’ood!

I miss you like mad I know I shouldn’t talk like that … it only makes this harder But sometimes I can’t help it Maybe you could come visit soon? I’d like that so much Or maybe