There is no greater sorrow than to recall in misery a time when you were happy.

Dante

February, 2012 (Home of Hollis St. Claire's foster parents)

There are very few things less comfortable than than being hunched over the bathtub while someone pours scalding hot water onto your scalp from less than a centimeter away. The side of the tub digs into my stomach making it a tad bit hard to breath which isn't helped by the water rolling from my neck to my cheekbones and into my nostrils and mouth. Hol grumply pushes the shower head into my hand and starts to angrily grind shampoo into my hair.

"I cannot believe that you did this to your hair. You just shredded your best feature."

I grimace as soap falls into my eye.

"She's having a midlife crisis," Aybee pipes up from the doorway, words muffled by her huge camera "Give her a break."

"No." Hollis snaps "No. This isn't a midlife crisis. This is a hate crime. She butchered her beautiful hair in the most disgusting way possible. This is a sin. An offense against the gods. I can't believe you. I am your hairdresser. I do it for free. I don't even have a waiting list. You could have shown up unannounced and I would have happily given you whatever haircut you wanted, within reason, but no. You took a rusty pair of kitchen scissors and you cut off sixteen inches of hair. I can't just glue this back on, Syd."

I close my eyes for a second, feeling her angry hands tear through my hair.

"I wanted to give you a project for your blog." I snark in response.

"Damn right this is a project! This is going to be a bitch to fix! You worked so hard to learn how to fix your hair just to cut it all off? Really?!" She snatches the shower head back, rinsing the soap out of my hair before giving it back.

"Well, I won't need as much product anymore."

"Wrong!" She almost shouts "You can't just straighten your hair anymore, it won't work with what I'm going to have to do. Your going to end up looking like a soccer mom if you even touch a flat iron. You have to gel and curl and moisturize and-"

"Okay, okay, we get it. Chill." Aybee pipes up again.

Hollis growls at her rubbing conditioner into my hair before rinsing it out.

The boys and Jordyn are hiding because they know it's filming day and Hollis is on a rampage which is never a good sign. Friends are guinea pigs on filming day.

Hollis has a clear shower curtain that she uses as a styling cape whenever she cuts or dyes someone's hair. She's altered it so it fits people and velcros behind their necks, mostly because it was convenient but also so we can use our phones and laptops while she does whatever it is she's doing. Milo sits on my lap playing the news from San Francisco. Hollis tilts my head up so I'm looking at the ceiling

"...When the Zodiac stopped killing my cousin was put into mental hospital in New Mexico-"

I snort audibly, I rolling my eyes.

"What a douchebag."

"Why do you insist upon watching the news from random places? You've never even been to San Francisco."

"I like knowing that there are problems out there that have nothing to do with me. Side's, they think the Zodiac's back. I can't miss out on this rampant crapshoot."

"Well, can't he really be back?" Hollis asks

"Unlikely." I say at the same time Aybee says "Not a chance."

Aybee has seen every documentary ever made, and there are a couple hundred out there about the Zodiac. We've seen quite a few of them together.

"The Zodiac killed in the late sixties to early seventies. Saying he was at least twenty years old that means that he was born in the late 1940's to early 1950's, so he would be at least sixty-four. Can you imagine a man older than my grandfather moving smoothly enough to murder two teenagers and getting away clean? Besides, those taunts to the pigs were exceptionally juvenile."

"He was released two months ago."

"Almost as juvenile as this guy."

"Couldn't his cousin-"

"Nah, he's a Narcisslut. If they actually question him, he'll fold like a lawn chair. Plus he just totally tossed his cousin down the river, if that person really does exist."

Aybee laughs.

"I wanna see that family reunion."

"Do you have anything more specific?" the voice of the female reporter asks.

"He was working on a production of "The Mikado" in '68. The Zodiac talked about "The Mikado" in one of his letters."

I snort again.

"At least we know there is one thing true about his little fairytale."

"Excuse me. I'm Dr. Reid with the behavioral analysis unit."

I cackle the witchy cackle of someone who knows that someone else is about to get busted on live television.

"Holy shit," Hollis marvels "they really busted out the big guns for this one didn't they?"

"Hey Syd," Aybee exclaims, tossing a piece of popcorn at my face. "the guy said his name was Reid. Maybe he's your dad!"

I roll my eyes again.

"Ha ha ha. So funny, Aybee. You should quit film and become a comedian."

Hollis leans over my shoulder to look at Milo.

"You could do worse. He's pretty hot."

"Jesus, Hol! That is such a weird thing to say about my make believe father."

It doesn't stop me from trying to look down, the eight year old in me dying of curiosity. Hollis grabs my chin and forces it back up.

"Yeah, Hollister. Aren't you gay?"

Hol tugs her comb roughly through my sopping wet hair, tugging my head even farther back.

"Gay not blind. I'm not sexually attracted to hair but I still know when it looks good."

"Are you sure you aren't sexually attracted to hair? You seemed pretty upset when mine was no longer available."

She whips me on the back of the head with her Wet Brush.

"Was your cousin by chance a fan of Wagner? Because a CD of 'The Tragic Overture' was sent to the police this morning."

"'The Tragic Overture was not written by Wagner."

"He loved Wagner, especially 'The Tragic Overture.' Its him."

"Oh, yeah. Well for the record, a CD was not sent to the police this morning and 'The Tragic Overture was written by Brahms, not Wagner, so luckily, I guess, it is not your cousin. The FBI would greatly appreciate if people would stop making false claims to get their fifteen minutes of fame."

Aybee and I are both cracking up now while Hollis giggles.

"Drag the bitch!" I crow.

"Can you even imagine…" Aybee gasps.

"Thank you. Thank you very much."

"Whataguy." Hollis snarks happily