Jules is in the kitchen. She has my cabinet open—the one above the sink. I can hear her. I can’t see her—I’m in the bedroom—but I can hear from the way her voice is, that she’s looking into the kitchen cabinet.
"Jules, what are you doing?"
"I’m looking at your honey..honey," she says.
"Do you want to eat hallucinogenic mushrooms with me?" I ask.
"No," she says. "No."
I hear the cabinet close.
She’s standing naked in the doorway. "I want to know why you have so many of them."
"I just bought em in bulk," I say. "Sometimes they’re hard to find, I’m just..saving them. Please don’t worry about it, I’m not selling them."
"Do you find that they help you to become more connected?" she says.
"I really don’t take them that often."
But she’s kneeling with me, and I see that she’s not interrogating me—she really wants to know.
"I’m sorry if I’m scaring you," I say.
She looks away.
"I don’t want to worry you—"
She grabs my chin. "You’re not worrying me," she says. "The fact that you’ve got a 2-liter of Absolut Mandarin worries me more than your..mushroom farm. I’m just asking you..when you take them..does it help you feel connected?"
"Yes," I say. But I feel uncomfortable. "Yes. I guess in a way it does."
I look away but Jules follows me around to the side. She lies her head on the futon next to me. She wants to look in my eyes.