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Show Woodworth/253 at each other for a second. "This is irreverant," Marty thinks "Irreverant, insulting, dangerous." "Bulllabbla," ^ egan sputters, puffing out her cheeks and crossing her eyes. "Bullabblar?" She drops Marty's arms, and begins to imitate a chimpanzee. Hanging from'branch with one hand, scratching her arm pit with the other. Nightgown, toothbrush, tooth re/ paste. MeSan Pats at her arms, and pulls one up over head. "Mmrmgh, Mnirgh," she grunts into Marty's face. Rachael stands and joins her. Broken rib, broken arm. Drugs. It was drugs. An accident. They jump around her, cheeks full of air, arm pits full of lice. "All right," she laughs. Rachael starts to sing, "George, George, George of the jungle, friend to you and me," She clasps both hands in front of her, arms straight, and leans over. "The mighty elephant," she trumpets, "Stalks the living room." She lunges from couch to television, from windows to liquor cabinet. Woe to the tiny ground animals that tremble in her path? Beware the white man with his puny weapons. Rachael jumps on her back. "Cheeta take ride on mighty elephant," she says. "Bimbo want ride, too," Megan says, trying to climb on to Rachael's back. The three of them fall on the floor, laughing and scrambling and rolling. "Tickle, tickle," Megan calls, and the three of them drag apart, gasping for breath. A boy's voice calls," Mary Gallagher, Mary Gallagher?" from someplace far away, but no one comes. "An elephant, huh?" Rachael says. "Someday-ifs going to leak out in all the hottest bars in Boston that you think your an elephant." Marty llMi M|| W • hnrlr I--1-,- at the ceiling. No crayons, |