“I thought that being right was the only thing you liked about talking to other people,” I said. “You can’t correct people without disagreement.”

“Who’s in charge of milk-checking around here?” I asked. “Just say the word and I’ll get him fired.” 

I’d always doubted whether people existed when they weren’t with me, even before everyone disappeared. Now I knew that people folded into laptops and disappeared into The Cloud until Mom clicked on them again.

These days, bushes crowded in too close for a car to squeeze through and roots had chewed up most of the pavement, but you could still smell the rusty skeletons of old wrecks buried in the bushes like a forgotten bone. The ghosts blew in with the morning fog and swirled featherlike through the brush until the sun shined them away around lunch time. 

The Stuck House was supposed to be the only place where the universe had to obey her rules, but now she couldn’t even boss around a lousy banana.

“Bikinis aren’t an essential life skill for women over 30,” Mom said like a warning. “Anyone who’s day-drinking alone has parts of their life that are out of control, but that lady isn’t ready to let herself go.

Dogs go potty in words, leaving public messages for any passing creature to enjoy, but Mom doesn’t like to pee where someone can see. Humans go potty like punctuation, as if its only meaning is a moment of privacy between important things. 

Salt Lake City was the worst place to get sucked into at a time when friendship was against the law. It’s filled with people so friendly that they’ll ring a stranger’s doorbell just to meet whoever’s inside.

When we dismounted, Mom hid behind the beak of her hat so that no one else in the car kennel could pick her out in a line-up.

“Keep the windows closed!” I panted as the glass-and-steel canyons sucked the Wagon through a forest of billboards. “I told you, it doesn’t work that way.” Mom turned down the blowers anyway.

“The trick to doing something hard for the first time is knowing that it’s gonna be uncomfortable, and doing it anyway.”

“They’re outlawing friendship?” I whimpered. I would never be able to hide my friendliness for long enough to stay out of trouble. “They can’t really send you to the pound for charisma, can they?”