I rocked quickly back and forth. The faster I rocked, the clearer the colours were. I heard Calvin’s voice from in my coloured cocoon. “It’s the damned Sistine Chapel, Nath! Let him finish.”

My rocking slowed, and I looked up into Calvin’s smiling face. He handed me a brush and a jar of palest pink paint. I smiled at him and touched the brush to the wall. In the background I could hear Dr. Hamporthorn arguing with Calvin. “You shouldn’t do that, Calvin, you’re only encouraging him.”

“Someone ought to!” Calvin replied. “I ain’t here just to pin ‘em down and stuff pills in their mouths, doc. I want to help. If someone had let my brother Matt have his music he could’ve been something. Nuclear physicist, maybe. No reason Nath couldn’t do the same, if you let him be.”

“My job isn’t to ’let him be,” Dr. Hamporthorn replied, “it’s to make him normal.”

“Why? He’s better than that,” Calvin said.

I drew a picture of nuclear physics. A mushroom cloud surrounded by equations, letters and numbers merging seamlessly.