IhadahoughattimesGustavUngerlandwasnomorerealtomethanHenryDay.ThesimplesolutionwouldhavebeentotrackdownTomMesandaskhimformoredetailsaboutwhathadbeensaidunderhypnosis.Afterfindiithelibrary,Itriedtolocateitsauthorbuthadnoonthantheaddressinthemagazine.Severalweeksafterreceivingmyletter,theeditorofthedefunctJournalofMythandSocietyrepliedthathewouldbegladtoforwarditontotheprofessor,butnothingcameofit.WhenIcalledhisuy,thechairmanofthedepartmentsaidMeshadvanishedonaMondaym,rightinthemiddleofthesemester,anofaddress.MyattemptsattagBrianUngerlandprovedequallyfrustrating.IcouldntverywellpesterTessforinformationaboutheroldboyfriend,andafteraskingaroundtown,someooldmethatBrianwasatFortSill,Oklahoma,withtheU.S.Army,studyinghowtoblowthingsup.TherewerenoUngerlandsinourlocalphonebook.

    Fortunately,otherthingsoccupiedmythoughts.Tesshadtalkedmeintogoingbacktoschool,andIwastobegininJanuary.ShegedwhenItoldhermyplans,becamemoreattentiveandaffeate.WecelebratedregisteringforclassesbysplurgingondinnerandChristmasshoppingiy.Arminarm,wewalkedthesidewalksdowntown.InthewindowsofKaufmamentStore,miniatureanimatroniesplayedoutinanendlessloop.Santaandhiselveshammeredatthesamewoodenbicycle.Skaterscircledatopanicymirrorforalleternity.Westoppedandlingeredbeforeonedisplay—ahumanfamily,babyinthebassi,proudparentskissinguhemistletoe.Ourownimagesreflectedonandthroughtheglass,superimposedoverthemeicalsdomesticbliss.

    "Isntthatadorable?Lookathowlifeliketheymadethebaby.Doesntshemakeyouwanttohaveon