Chapter 10: The Laboratory Tour Holmes Was Not Invited On

The car Joyce lent him was a 1974 Dodge Dart with a steering column that pulled left and a heater that produced smell without warmth. Holmes drove it northeast out of town with the window cracked two inches, which was enough to clear the smell of old upholstery and not enough to explain why the cold air felt like it had traveled a very long distance to reach him.

El sat in the passenger seat with her knees drawn up and her feet on the dash, which Holmes had noted and not objected to. She was eating the last of the Eggo waffles cold, from the box, in small precise bites. She had been eating them cold since the second morning. He had stopped purchasing syrup.

He had told her where they were going. He had described the laboratory — what he knew of it — in neutral operational language, the same register he used when briefing adult professionals on dangerous assignments. She had listened without interrupting. When he finished she had said, "I know it," and he had understood from her inflection that she was not saying she knew of it, but rather that she knew it the way you know a place that has shaped the interior of your body.