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muscle tone.”
    I opened my sports shirt, revealing my rather slack gut, and of course Diane Simly took a step back. “I understand that you’ve found a new friend to keep you company,” she continued. “But I’m afraid that poses a problem in terms of your lease.” I knew full well that the Simlys wanted to evict me so they could raise the rent. But renters had strong rights in Santa Cruz. At least that’s what I’d thought.
    â€œThe woman’s only a temporary guest,” I said. “A friend.”
    â€œI gather that she’s very friendly indeed,” said Diane sourly. “I couldn’t help but overhear what happened yesterday.”
    â€œYes, she fucked your husband,” I said. “And I asked her not to do it again. If you tell Dick the same thing, maybe we’ll be okay. Until Weena’s eggs hatch. You should be fucking Dick more yourself. Before the larvae turn him into hamburger.” Really I had no idea what I was talking about—I just knew that, despite my jealousy, I wanted to stand up for Weena.
    â€œYou’re completely insane,” said Diane, fighting to control her voice. “And do you know what? I was ready to give you a break. But now you’ve gone far. I want you and that—that whore out of here within seventy-two hours. As soon as she moved in, you were in violation of the terms of your lease. Our lawyer is filing for a three-day eviction this afternoon.” She turned and stalked off, her motions stiff and angular.
    That night Weena and I sat on kitchen chairs in my driveway, sharing a few bottles of hard lemonade. It was balmy, with the surf audible down the alley.
    â€œ Muuur ,” said Weena cozily. A jokey mooing sound she liked to make.
    â€œI love you, Weena,” I said, and I meant it. I’d been thinking about our relationship all day. I was happy to have this young woman with the strange grammar here, no matter what she did.
    â€œDear Jim,” she answered, running her hand along my arm. “I appreciate that you speak of love. And I’m flattered that you’re jealous.”
    â€œBut we might have to move,” I said. And then I recounted my conversation with Diane Simly.“She says we have to move tomorrow,” I concluded. “But I doubt if she can make that stick.”
    â€œAnd you told this woman of my three eggs?” asked Weena.
    â€œI wanted to shake her up. She’s always so smug. What are the eggs supposed to grow into anyway? New Weenas?”
    â€œNo, no,” said Weena. “They’re jiva eggs. What I jestingly call my ovipositor is in truth the tail of a jiva that’s lodged within me. Her name is Awnee. She’s my ally—she’s been a part of me for many years.” Weena lifted up her latest T-shirt, patterned in horizontal green and yellow stripes. “Fix your attention upon my navel.” And now a tapering pink tendril slipped a short way out from Weena’s belly button. The jiva tail—if that’s what it was—bore a fuzz of tiny, luminous hairs. It had a tiny dark spot at its tip. An orifice.
    â€œOh put that away!” I cried miserably. I rose unsteadily to my feet.
    â€œIt’s high time I told you the entire truth,” continued Weena.
    â€œEnough truth,” I said, backing away from her. “To hell with truth.”
    â€œTomorrow you will lead me back to that crumbling Victorian house where you first glimpsed the yuel,” intoned Weena. “The house with the round door to Flimsy. You will open this portal again.”
    â€œMaybe,” I said, starting to feel cornered. “How about some truth for you? It was that big surfer at that house who launched the yuel. Header. He had the yuel in his handkerchief or maybe in his nose.”
    Weena hardly looked surprised. “I might as well tell you that I had the Graf eliminated before I came. But his spirit seems to control