The Map of True Places by Brunonia Barry Page A

his head back and forth to demonstrate the ease of movement. He was acting, exaggerating the range, imitating the looping head of the dopamine at its peak. “See, it’s working already,” he said. He was right, of course. If it weren’t working at least a little bit, he would be too stiff to fake any movement. As if to punctuate, he touched his thumb to his middle finger over and over, the way they made him do in the doctor’s office.
    â€œSuit yourself,” Zee said. But he knew she didn’t mean it.
    He ate the cookies and sipped at the milk. The fun had gone out of it for him, though. He left half a glass on the table when he got up and made his way into the den.
    By 7:00 P.M. he was asleep in his chair, heavily dosed with Sinemet, his head flopping forward. A long string of saliva dripped out of his open mouth and onto his pressed shirt. He wouldn’t wake up again until it was almost time for the next pill. Then he would be agitated, looking for something, anything, to take away the tension his brain was creating. He might open his cent shop again for the tourists, though they had cleared out by now. Most likely he would try to walk, the worst thing he could do.
    It turned out that Finch had been right. The medicine was working. The flattened midpoint of normalcy the doctor always drew on the wave graph had happened exactly when Finch said it had happened, when they were in the kitchen eating the Oreos. She realized that now. She should never have complained about the milk.

9
    S TRANGELY, IT WAS M ICHAEL and not her father who finally let her know where Melville was.
    â€œHe’s been leaving you messages on the home phone,” Michael said.
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me before?”
    â€œYou’re in Salem. I figured you knew.”
    She could tell that Michael was angry. She’d been feeling guilty about it all week, but now she was angry, too. He’d been traveling again, and he hadn’t called. She’d been leaving messages on the home phone as well as his cell. She’d also been texting.
    â€œSo how was the funeral?”
    â€œOkay,” she said.
    â€œDid it turn out as you expected?”
    â€œI don’t know what I expected, ” she said. “But no.”
    A long pause, then from Zee, “Could we please get back to Melville?”
    â€œI told you all I know.”
    â€œHe didn’t say anything else? Just that he had moved out?”
    â€œThat and the phone number,” he said.
    She wanted to call immediately.
    â€œHow’s Finch?” he asked.
    â€œNot good,” she said.
    She could hear his tone soften as they talked about her father. The two men had always gotten on well together. In many ways they were a lot alike. “You want me to come out there?”
    â€œNot right now,” she said, a little too quickly.
    â€œJesus,” he said.
    â€œThat didn’t sound the way I meant it.”
    â€œYou sure about that?”
    â€œLet me call Melville and see what’s going on. I’ll call you right back,” she said. “Then we can decide whether or not you should come out.”
    â€œDon’t do me any favors,” he said. “I already had plans for the weekend— we had plans, actually.”
    More wedding stuff, she thought. “I can’t talk about any of that right now,” she said.
    â€œNothing to talk about. Just a statement of fact.”
    â€œI’ll call you back,” she said, hanging up.
    She dialed the number Melville had left for her.
    He picked up on the first ring. “Oh, thank God,” he said. “You’re in Salem.”
    â€œYeah, I am. Where the hell are you ?”
    â€œFinch kicked me out,” he said.
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œHe’s very angry at me.”
    â€œI can see that,” Zee said. “What did you do to him?”
    â€œI don’t know.” He paused for a long moment. “Actually, I do