“At night, she no longer disappeared into the trees of her mind but, instead, had me sit across from her as she drilled me on the habits of all the plants in the garden, of the uses of the parts of tongues and ears, of the mechanics of a stomach and a lung. It was as if she had become scared that all bodies would sink, as Ben’s had, and that my voice, naming the parts of anatomy, singing of bile and blood, could somehow keep them on the surface.”