Things You Should Know Read Online Free PDF

lingerie, it makes him look more than naked. She feels as if she were seeing something she shouldn’t, something too personal.
    Her mother rolls over and sits up.
    â€œSomething is not right,” he says.
    â€œIt’s the season,” she says.
    â€œUnseasonable,” he says. “Ben got a call in the middle of the afternoon. They said his house was going downhill fast. He had to leave early.”
    â€œIt’s an unpredictable place,” her mother says.
    â€œIt’s not the same as it was, that’s the thing,” her father says, putting on a dry shirt. “Now it’s a place where everybody thinks he’s somebody and nobody wants to be left out.”
    She gets out of the pool and goes to the door, pressing her face against the glass. They don’t notice her. Finally, she knocks. Her father opens the sliding glass door. “I didn’t see you out there,” he says.
    â€œI’m invisible,” she says. “Welcome home.”
    Â 
    She is back in the pool. Floating. The night is moist. Vaporous. It’s hard to know if it’s been raining or if the sprinkler system is acting up. The sky is charcoal, powdery black. Everything is a little fuzzy around the edges but sharp and clear in the center.
    There is a coyote at the edge of the grass. She feels it staring at her. “What?” she says.
    It lowers its head and pushes its neck forward, red eyes like red lights.
    â€œWhat do you want?”
    The coyote’s legs grow long, its fur turns into an overcoat, it stands, its muzzle melts into a face—an old woman, smiling.
    â€œWho are you?” the girl asks. “Are you friends with my sister?”
    â€œWatch me,” the old woman says. She throws off the coyote coat—she is taller, she is younger, she is naked, and then she is a man.
    She hears her mother and father in the house. Shouting.
    â€œWhat am I to you?” her mother says.
    â€œIt’s the same thing, always the same thing, blah, blah, blah,” her father says.
    â€œHave you got anything to eat?” the coyote asks.
    â€œWould you like a carrot?”
    â€œI was thinking of something more like a sandwich or a slice of cheese pizza.”
    â€œThere are probably some waffles in the freezer. No one ever eats the waffles. Would you like me to make you one?”
    â€œWith butter and syrup?” he asks.
    The girl nods.
    He licks his lips, he turns his head and licks his shoulder and then his coyote paws. He begins grooming himself.
    â€œBe right back,” she says. She goes into the kitchen, opens the freezer, and pulls out the box of waffles.
    â€œI thought you were on a diet,” her mother says.
    â€œI am,” the girl says, putting the waffles in the toaster, getting the butter, slicing a few strawberries.
    â€œWhat’s this called, breakfast for dinner?”
    â€œNever mind,” the girl says, pouring syrup.
    â€œThat’s all you ever say.”
    She goes back outside. A naked young woman sits by the edge of the pool.
    â€œIs it still you?” the girl asks.
    â€œYes,” the coyote says.
    She hands the coyote the plate. “Usually we have better choices, but the housekeeper is on vacation.”
    â€œYum, Eggos. Want a bite?”
    The girl shakes her head. “I’m on a diet,” she says, getting back onto her raft.
    The coyote eats. When she’s finished she licks the plate. Her tongue is incredibly long, it stretches out and out and out, lizardly licking.
    â€œDelish,” she says.
    The girl watches, eyes bulging at the sight of the tongue—hot pink. The coyote starts to change again, to shift. Her skin goes dark, it goes tan, deep like honey and then crisper brown, as if it is burning, and then darker still, toward black. Downy feathers start to appear, and then longer feathers, like quills. Her feet turn orange, fold in, and web. A duck, a big black duck, like a dog, but a duck. The