Chapter Two

"Emma, don't joke like that. That's not a funny joke." Norman's hands were shaking. "Whoever put you up to this, it isn't funny! Was it Dylan?" Emma blinked at him again.

"Dylan?" she asked. "Dylan who?"

"Uh… my brother. Are… you… feeling okay? Are you getting worse or something because you aren't… making any sense, Emma. You just talked to my mother yesterday! You work here. With us."

"Norman, yeah, I help out sometimes… But that's because I'm your girlfriend and you can't run this place all by yourself. I mean, you're eighteen. It's a big responsibility. Honestly, after you inherited this place, I don't know why you didn't just sell it." She paused for a moment and seemed to think over the situation. "No wonder you're so stressed, I can't blame you."

Norman dug his nails into the palm of his hand.

"I'm not crazy, Emma! Everything is just going wrong today… Listen, maybe… I don't know what could be going on, but let's find Dylan. He'll know what to do. Maybe."

Emma threw her hands up.

"Okay, but only because I really like you. I still think you hit your head or something but… I've seen enough movies to know that, hell, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm the confused one."

"You are," Norman insisted.

"Let's go see this Dylan guy who… you said he's, what, your brother? You have never said anything ever about having a brother, Norman. I don't… There's more than one of you out there?"

Norman bristled and glared at her, wishing she could take this seriously. She might think he was going crazy, but he knew he could never forget Mother. Hell, who could forget their own mother, unless they'd gotten hit in the head or something? There was, at least as far as Norman knew, no amnesia that existed to make one believe things had happened that hadn't.

Now, Norman was heading out the door, and he found himself wondering where exactly he would go to find Dylan, if he wasn't here at the motel.

There was only one option, and Norman hoped it would be the right one. It wasn't like he followed Dylan around. Not usually, anyway.

"We need to drive up to the farm."

"Farm?" Emma asked, "What farm?"

"I'll tell you where to go," Norman said. "I'm not really allowed to drive."

"Yeah, I know," Emma replied, "You ran over like six cones on your driver's test. It would have been funny if it wasn't so sad."

Norman shook his head slightly. How was it that Emma remembered things that hadn't even happened? Emma hadn't even been there at his driver's test, the one that hadn't even gotten off the ground because Cody had played telephone with Emma who'd blabbed to his mother.

They climbed into the little car and shut the doors.

"Well, at least we're going to a farm. With cows and chickens?"

"Not that type of farm, Emma."

"I'm disappointed, honestly."

They pulled up in front of the small cabin. Norman burst out of the door, leaving Emma scrambling behind him and muttering under her breath.

Norman couldn't slow down, however. He needed answers, and he needed them now. Hopefully Dylan could break him out of this nightmare and explain everything that had happened. There had to be a rational explanation, didn't they? He couldn't just be alone.

Norman banged on the door in a frenzy.

"Dylan! Dylan open up!"

It was loud inside the cabin, which was surprising. Wasn't it only Gunner, Dylan and Caleb who lived here? Maybe Gunner had invited a bunch of his pothead friends over. Today of all days. Hopefully Dylan wasn't high; Norman had never encountered a high Dylan, but just the same he never wanted to.

Eventually, when further banging failed and Emma had arrived at the door beside him, Norman forced the door open.

Inside, there were wall-to-wall people, and trance music was playing loudly. A blonde girl tapped him on the shoulder and nearly took a bite out of his ear.

"What the hell?" Norman asked Emma, who shrugged.

"Is this out of the ordinary?" she mouthed back.

"Where the hell is Dylan?" Norman asked, and Emma shrugged.

He made it to the back of the room before he saw, not Dylan, but his uncle Caleb – who was standing on a table and drinking shots, eagerly yelling.

"Any chick who comes up here, I'll… I'll… yeah chicks! I got a mouth that just won't quit! Who wants to see me prove it?" He proceeded to down another shot, as if in confirmation of his previous statement.

Norman blinked. He had never liked his uncle, but this seemed rather out of character for him. He was usually skulking around Norma trying to win her approval or her forgiveness. Either that or he was moaning to Dylan. Always about the same thing – always about how he needed to get back into Norma's graces, even though he had hurt and betrayed her and hadn't even seen her in a good thirty years.

He had never seen him like this, however. Maybe he had just given up, or maybe this is who he was all along. Norman wouldn't be surprised – Caleb had always struck him as a waste of space.

However, he would need to talk to him in order to find Dylan.

"CALEB!" Norman yelled, not bothering to say "Uncle" because in his mind, he really wasn't. He wasn't anything more than a bad memory, for he or his mother both.

"WHAT?" Caleb yelled back, looking at Norman. "Keg's up front!"

"Where's Dylan?"

"What d'you want with Dylan?" Caleb slurred. "He's busy! I saw him leave with a good… three… four chicks! He's the man!" He took another shot. "What do you want little man?"

Norman's eyes glowered.

"I need to talk to him! My mother's missing!"

Caleb mind-boggled at Norman.

"What does that have to do with him?"

"My mother's missing!" Norman yelled again, figuring his uncle hadn't heard him right. "You know – your sister!"

Caleb jumped off the table and chuckled.

"You're drunker than me," he told him, "I don't have a sister."