“I have something that might help you," he told me, his eyes glistening with excitement. "It’s just a drup of something.”

“A drup?” I repeated. “What on earth is that?’

“Give me a break!” he cried. “A drup, a druppel, a druppeltje! It’s a drop, a droplet, a tiny drop!”

“A tiny drop of what?”

He paused a moment, considering, then said, "I hope you don't mind if I make a personal observation."

"Not at all," I said. "I'd appreciate it."

"What you're doing is quite brave. Most people wouldn't have the nerve or the courage.
It's incredibly hopeful, but at the same time, it's immensely sad."

“It’s terrible that we won’t remember any of this. Some of it, like the fight with your mother,
I’d gladly forget, but if there was one moment that I could take and keep,
it would be this one with you, here and now.”

Lizzie didn't have any fight in her, and she looked miserable. She must have beaten herself up
over this every day since she drove away from the Lanes' house with empty arms.
I wanted to be the avenging angel. Instead, I felt like a ruthless heel.

 
"Hey," I called, more softly this time, "I won't let you down, Clara, don't worry. I've done this before."

"Hey yourself," she called back, without looking up. "For today, you just need to be better than nothing.
I'm not thinking past the morning rush."

 
People paused and stared, but I must have looked terribly depressed,
because only one person dared to stop and talk. Her name was Jane —
no last name given. She was in her late fifties, about as old as I'd be if were still Fred.

 
"Who am I?" she asked. "Who am I?"

"You're Diane," I replied. "You're a nurse. You're a person who loves Seattle and has good friends and good values. You're a nice person and a good listener."

"I know all that," she said, "And thanks. But where did I come from? I could have dropped here from outer space for all I know. I could be the Princess of Bratislava. I could be anybody."

 
I scoffed, disgusted, and without thinking said, "Kristy was right."

"It's interesting that you say that," Arrow observed.
"Have you thought about why she told me about you?"

 
Since I was locked out of doing any Fred business, I spent Thursday taking care of Dexie business.

First of all, I applied for a name change.

 
"You're very quiet," Lane observed. "If you've got any more questions,
I urge you to ask them now, because I doubt I'll be willing to discuss these matters again."

"Why not?" I asked, more than a little irritated. "What does it cost you?"

 
Mr. Lane drew an envelope from his pocket. "I have your birth certificate here.
I know you've never seen it, and there's a reason for that.
This document is yours, and I'm going to give it to you,
but we ought to have a look at it together first, because it needs a bit of explaining."

Stealing his thoughts, Oriel nudged van Els and murmured sotto voce,
"Tell me: have you ever seen breasts like mine? Ever?"

van Els' mouth was bone dry. "No," he croaked.

"Then if you never saw me naked, your imagination is crying out…
calling to a coincident reality, isn't it?" she purred.

"Mother bought a huge new mirror — and it's haunted!"
Arliss' sister had informed him on the phone.
"You'll see when you come home!"

Arliss In Wonderland (or Ten Years Before The Looking Glass), by C.S. Lewis-Carroll

"Maybe they’re for an alien Christmas tree," van Els joked. "They have no hooks because of anti-gravity.
Or maybe they’re ornamental. Maybe they’re pretty for the sake of being pretty."

"Wouldn't everybody want to go to the FIRST one?" I asked.

"I dunno," Dad replied in a joking tone. "When you're number two, you try harder."

"I have a lots of Barbies," the girl offered, "and we can play dress up."

"Okay," I agreed — but not because of what she said! I was going to go along with her anyway.

"Am I supposed to act all flustered and nervous and all that?"

"No," Jack replied. "No offense, but I don't think you're that good an actor. But not to worry, we've already given them the story... And they've been told that you're kind of a ditz."

After a bit of silence, Jack said, "Anyway, they're great people. I arranged for you to stay with them while we're shooting. I think you'll find it more convenient, and it will be a hell of a lot easier for you to stay in character."

He stopped in front of an old house on a street lined with old houses, and shut off the engine. My hands were folded in my lap and I was looking down, mulling over what Jack had said. I asked him, "In character means wearing a skirt?"