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Then they would both explode into a fit of laughter.

Dorothy’s unpredictable nature perfectly suited my mother’s unreliable brain chemistry. She was not only fun, but she acted as a buffer between my mother and me. I didn’t feel that I had to keep as close an eye on my mother’s mental health because Dorothy was looking after her. And when my mother did go psychotic, Dorothy went along for the ride.

On one of their rides, they brought me back a souvenir.

* * *

His name was Cesar Mendoza and he looked exactly like a cartoon lumberjack. His arms were as thick around as tree limbs. And his head was as square as an anvil. My mother had met him at the mental hospital where Dr. Finch had committed her.

“I’m not going to any goddamn mental hospital,” my mother raved, her eyes looking like somebody had lit books of matches inside of them.

“It’s just for observation,” Finch told her calmly.

“I will not be observed!” my mother shrieked, hurling her large-framed body against the door, causing it to slam in Finch’s face.

“Deirdre, you have to go,” he said through the door. “Come out now or we’ll have to get the police.”

In the end, my mother didn’t put up a fuss. She allowed herself to be taken to the Brattleboro retreat in Vermont.

She returned from the hospital still slightly mad with a six-foot-two lumberjack in tow. The lumberjack spoke only broken English. “I love you mother,” he said when he met me. “And I be your new father.”

I sat on her sofa, stunned by this development. Not only had my mother failed to recover in the hospital, it seemed to me she had gone even crazier.

“Where is bathroom?” he asked as he shuffled through the house, ducking under the doorjambs.

“It’s in the back,” I told him.

When he returned, he smelled of my mother’s new Avon perfume. “You like?” he said, extending his arm. “I smell pretty now, no?”

Dorothy clung to my mother’s arm, lighting her cigarettes for her and holding them between puffs. She explained the situation to me. “Your mother feels strongly that God has brought them together. And that Cesar is going to be a part of our lives from now on.”

She turned to my mother and looked at her profile with admiration, as if my mother had just announced her diagnosis of cancer and her decision to fight the disease with every bit of strength she had left.

I eyed the lumberjack who was busy sniffing his perfumed arm and smiling, using his free hand to gently rub the bulge in his pants. “What do you know about this man?” I asked.

“Not much,” Dorothy said. “Except that he’s married, he has two kids and the police are looking for him.”

Cesar grinned down at me, exposing the whitest, most perfect teeth. A surprising quality in a crazy person.

“Nice teeth,” I commented.

“You like?” he said, and pulled them out of his mouth.

I winced.

Because it was my mother’s first day home from the mental hospital, she was exhausted. It took all her energy to stand on her own and not use Dorothy or the wall for support. The medication had also made her movements slow and clumsy. “I’m going to bed. Dorothy, come with me.” She licked her cracked lips. “My mouth is so damn dry.” She turned to me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Which left me alone with my new father.

“You mother tells me you are a gay,” he said, taking a seat on the couch.

I slid away from him. “Yeah.”

He stretched his arms out on the back of the sofa. “I don’t think you a gay. I think you have no man in your life. No father ever. What you need is father. Good, strong father. I be your father. You be my son.” His eyes had the same glossy appearance as my mother’s, as if they’d both gone to the same sinister opthamologist and been fitted with identical contact lenses.

I said, “Mmm hmm.”

He brought his arms forward and slapped his knees. “Now, go get your father something to drink. You have beer?”

I told him we didn’t have any beer but I could get him a glass of tap water or there might be some flat Pepsi in the refrigerator. He told me to forget it, and then he popped