Amnesia Moon by Jonathan Lethem

brought them out to the living room. She handed one to the man, and they exchanged a smile.
    She tipped hers back and took a big swallow, and when she looked at him, he was staring at her.
    â€œI haven’t had a beer for . . . years,” he said quickly.
    The girl yelled from upstairs: “Hey!”
    The man and Edie looked at each other. “What?” he called back.
    â€œNot you,
Edie.
”
    Edie went upstairs and into the bathroom. The girl was sitting in the muddy water, bent over and probing between her legs. The gray water showed a little cloud of pink there. Blood. The girl lifted a reddened finger from the bath. Edie thought instantly: he’s a rapist.
    The girl looked up and gave Edie a weak smile, and said, “I heard about this.”
    â€œYou have your period,” said Edie, astonished.
    â€œI never did before.”
    Edie tried to gather herself. She’d lived this moment once, from the other side. Having only boys, she wasn’t expecting to live it again.
    The girl swirled the water between her legs, dispersing the stain, and looked up at Edie again.
    â€œI’ll get you something,” said Edie, blushing, feeling idiotic. She would have to show her how to use it, she realized. A girl who didn’t know how to run a shower wouldn’t know how to use a pad. “Are you ready to get out?”
    The girl nodded. She stood up in the water and gently shook her fur, starting with her arms and working downward; the spray was remarkably controlled. Edie pulled a towel off the shelf and wrapped the girl in it and began fluffing her dry. The girl let herself be held.
    Then Edie sat her on the toilet, still wrapped in the towel, and carefully showed her where the pad went. The girl followed Edie’s instructions, reverent, unembarrassed.
    Afterwards Edie got a clean set of clothes from downstairs; a shirt, pants, and socks. She left the girl there to dress, and went back downstairs, glancing at her watch.
    Coming in the front door, just as she reached the living room herself, was Cooley.
    â€œA visitor!” he said, too heartily.
    â€œHi, Ian,” said Ray. “Wanna play Government Man?”
    He never isn’t playing Government Man, thought Edie. “I thought we said
tonight
,” she said acidly.
    â€œWanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” said Cooley, grinning, raising his hands as if to ward off a blow. “Suggest dinner. See you’ve got a guest, though . . .”
    â€œYes,” she said.
    â€œDon’t recognize you from around here,” Cooley said to the man.
    â€œHe’s my cousin,” said Edie quickly. “He’s just passing through—”
    â€œ
Mom
,” said Ray disapprovingly.
    â€œDon’t mom me. You and Dave clean up that game and take your bags upstairs.”
    There’s only my car parked outside, she realized. Cooley would notice that on his way out.
    â€œCousin? My name’s Ian Cooley.” He stuck out his hand.
    The man turned away from the board game and shook hands with Cooley. “I’m Chaos,” he said. So she’d heard it right upstairs.
    â€œChaos? Interesting name. Staying a while?”
    â€œUh, no, like she said, just passing through.”
    â€œToo bad. I’m going north myself this weekend, shoot some ducks.” He hefted an imaginary shotgun and fired at the ceiling. “You like to shoot?”
    The man named Chaos looked bewildered again. “I don’t know,” he said.
    â€œTried to get Edie’s old husband to go, couldn’t get him out of his
elevator
,” Cooley said, continuing to destroy the ceiling with his nonexistent gun.
    â€œIan,” said Edie, “he’s tired. Come back another—”
    â€œOkay. So, we’re on for tonight?”
    â€œWe never were on for tonight. I’m tired too, Ian. Another time. Please.”
    â€œKnow when I’m not wanted! See you