"I overdid something," says Toby. "In the Enhanced Meditation mix. A few too many mushrooms."
"It's a hazard," says Rebecca. "Drink a lot of water. I'll make you some clover and pine tea."
"I saw a giant pig yesterday," says Toby. "A sow, with piglets."
"The more the merrier," says Rebecca. "So long as we've got sprayguns. I'm running out of bacon."
"No, wait," says Toby. "It - she gave me a very strange look. I got the feeling that she knew I'd shot her husband. Back at the AnooYoo Spa."
"Wow, you really went to town on the mushrooms," Rebecca says. "I once had a conversation with my bra. So, was she mad about the ... I'm sorry, I just can't call it a husband! It was a pig, for chrissakes!"
"She wasn't pleased," says Toby. "But more sad than mad, I'd say."
"They're smarter than ordinary pigs, even without the Meditation booster," says Rebecca. "That's for sure. By the way, Jimmy came to breakfast today. No more invalid trays for him. He's doing well, but he'd like you to double-check his foot."
Jimmy has his own cubicle now. It's a new one, in the cobb-house addition they've finished at last. The cobb walls still smell a little damp, a little muddy; but there's a larger window than in the older part of the building, with a screen set into it and a curtain in a vibrant print of cartoon fish, with big curvy mouths and long-lashed eyes on the female ones. The males are playing guitars, with an octopus on the bongos. This is not the best thing for Toby to be looking at in her present state.
"Where did those come from?" she asks Jimmy, who's sitting up on his bed ledge with his feet on the floor. His legs are still thin, wasted; he'll need to build up the muscles again. "The curtains?"
"Who knows?" says Jimmy. "Ren, Wakulla - I mean, Lotis Blue. They felt I needed some cheerful interior decoration. It's like pre-school in here." He still has his Hey-Diddle-Diddle coverlet.
"You wanted me to look at your foot?" she says.
"Yeah. It's itchy. Driving me crazy. I just hope none of those maggot things got left inside."
"If they did, they'd have burrowed out by now," says Toby.
"Thanks a million," says Jimmy. The scar on his foot is red but sealed over. Toby examines it: no heat, no inflammation.
"That's normal," she says. "The itchiness. I'll get you something for it." A poultice: jewelweed, horsetail, red clover, she thinks. Horsetail might be the easiest to find.
"I heard you saw a pigoon," says Jimmy. "And it spoke to you."
"Who told
you that?" says Toby.
"The Crakers, who else?" says Jimmy. "They're my radio. That kid Blackbeard gave them the whole story, it seems. They think you shouldn't have killed that boar, but they're forgiving you because maybe Oryx said you could. You know those pigs have human prefrontal cortex tissue in their brains? Fact. I should know, I grew up with them."
"How did the Crakers learn about that?" Toby asks carefully. "Me shooting the boar?"
"The pigoon gal told Blackbeard. Don't give me that look, I'm just the messenger here. And according to Ren I've been hallucinating for a while, so hey. Maybe I'm not the best judge of reality." He gives her a lopsided grin.
"Mind if I sit down?" she says.
"Help yourself, thousands do," says Jimmy. "Fucking Crakers wander in here whenever the whim takes them. They want to know more shit about Crake. They think I'm his fucking guru. That he talks to me through my wristwatch. 'Course it's my own fucking fault because I made that up myself."
"And what do you tell them?" Toby asks. "About Crake?"
"I tell them to go ask you," says Jimmy.
"Me?" says Toby.
"You're the expert now. I need to take a nap."
"No, really, they always say you ... they say you knew Crake, in person. When he was walking the earth."
"Like that's supposed to be first prize?" Jimmy gives a sour little laugh.