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hood?
    PJ was watching from the front window. “Are they coming in?” She was wearing pajamas as usual. It was why they called her PJ. “I’d like to meet them.”
    â€œWe’re in kind of a hurry.” Starkey wondered why she would want to meet them.
    â€œWe could be special friends, Starkey.”
    The Archangels go ballistic when Warrior Angels get involved with Live Ones without their permission. It happens, of course, but it’s a conflict of interest. Worse than that, it almost always interferes with the Mission.
    He tried to cut them off at the door so theywouldn’t snoop around the house, wouldn’t see PJ.
    â€œRichard!” Mom had her arms out. Starkey couldn’t stop her from wrapping him up.
    Stepdad was a step behind her. He was dressed all in black, as usual these days. Big phony smile revealed pointy teeth. His eyes changed from blue to purple to red back to blue. Starkey had bagged the morning meds again.
    â€œYou look terrific.” Everything was always about looks with him. I could be rotting inside, Starkey thought, but if my hair is combed, everything’s fine. “This place must agree with you. Ready to roll?”
    â€œSure.” He hoisted his backpack and started for the door, but Mom spotted PJ.
    â€œHello.”
    â€œHi. You must be Starkey’s mother,” said PJ. “I’m his friend Allysse.”
    Starkey got right in between them. “We’re running late, Mom.”
    â€œExcuse my appearance,” said PJ, “but I’ve gained a lot of weight lately and I haven’t been able to shop.”
    Mom’s face fell apart at that. PJ was slim, soit was clear to her that PJ had an eating problem. “Congratulations, sweetheart. I know how hard it is to gain weight when you have a…food issues.”
    â€œI wish my parents were as understanding as you,” said PJ. “Starkey has told me all about you and your husband.”
    Starkey was surprised at her moves. He hadn’t told her anything. What was she angling for?
    â€œWe’re very proud of Richard.” Stepdad moved closer to PJ. She didn’t move away. What is her game? Starkey felt helpless. Their voices began to fade in and out, as if bubbling up from the bottom of a toilet.
    â€œWeee’re going to the mawllllllll,” said Mom, “to get Richard a new shirt and tie. Come with ussssss….”
    â€œThat’s so nye-ssssssssssssss, but I cooon’t innnnn-troooood….”
    â€œYooooooo muuuuuust….” Mom had PJ’sarm and was steering her toward the office.
    Nooooooo. They would get permission for PJ to come, ruin his plan.
    Stepdad was pushing him out the door. “You all right, Richard? Look a little shaky.”
    â€œYou don’t have to hold me. I’m not crazy.”
    â€œI know that. You have a chemical imbalance that makes you do crazy things, Richard, and we’re working on it.”
    â€œWork on this.” He gave Stepdad the finger salute.
    Stepdad ignored the gesture and guided him into the back of the Land Rover with his hand on top of his head, the way cops did it. Inside, the Land Rover smelled of leather, air-conditioning, perfume, after-shave.
    â€œThat’s a foxy lady, Allysse. What’s she in for?” Stepdad watched himself in the rearview mirror as he slipped on little round dark glasses.
    â€œBiting off her father’s nose.”
    That shut him up. Stepdad slipped in a CD, probably one of the new groups he was pushing. They just listened to the lame music until Mom reappeared, holding PJ’s hand. Stepdad whistled. PJ did look good. Boots, tight black jeans, a black leather jacket, her hair pulled back. Lipstick and eyeliner. She climbed in next to Starkey and smiled at him.
    â€œNothing fits, huh?” said Starkey.
    â€œDoesn’t Allysse look wonderful,” saidMom, settling into the front passenger seat.
    â€œIt’s so