Dreams of a Robot Dancing Bee by James Tate

a leopard if she wanted.
    â€œAre you mad at me?” he asked Ollie.
    â€œNo, I’ve just got to hurry, that’s all.”
    When he returned from the store, he found his mother and Vera sitting on the back porch. Vera had been transformed into a startling wonderwork of womanhood. She wore a pair of faded bluejeans and a white t-shirt that said I LOVE NEW YORK in red across the front. But what stole Ollie’s attention most powerfully was the sight of her long, dark hair. It altered her face in ways he could not explain.
    â€œWell, what do you think, Ollie? Which do you prefer, Sister Theodosa or plain, old Vera Sims?” She did not mean to put him on the spot, just to include him in their discussion.
    â€œI like both of you,” he said, and he meant it.
    â€œVery diplomatic, your son is.”
    â€œIt’s you, I think he has a crush on you, Vera.”
    Ollie went back inside to avoid further embarrassment. He went to the refrigerator and got himself a Coke. He could hear the two women talking.
    â€œ. . .it’s my last chance,” Vera was saying, “If I don’t leave now . . .”
    â€œYou could stay with us for awhile until . . .”
    â€œI still think of our summer . . .”
    â€œI don’t know, Vera, I’ve never . . . Ollie . . .”
    â€œI could love Ollie. You know that, Edith. I could be the father he never had . . .”

DIANE AND MIRIAM
    T he two young women had developed some kind of friendship over the past three months while working together part-time at the Cozy Corner Nursing Home, though in fact they came from very different backgrounds. Diane lived in a comfortable section of town with her parents and three siblings, while Miriam lived in a poorer neighborhood with only her mother whom she called by her first name, Greta. Miriam told Diane right off that her father had been merely a one-night stand, but that, according to Greta, he had been tall and handsome. This was some consolation, Diane thought to herself. Miriam also told Diane in their very first conversation that Greta was crazy. Diane didn’t know if she should take this seriously or not. People say funny things just for effect sometimes. Still, she didn’t have friends like Miriam at her school: everyone pretended to be so proper and on some kind of upward-bound track. So she found Miriam’s candor refreshing.
    As the weeks went by Miriam continued to amaze Diane with other kinds of confessions. She told Diane that she went to a certain discotheque at least three nights a week. She would go late and stand alone in the long hallway leading into the club. Eventually some stranger would approach her and she would go home with him and have sex. Once she went home with a rich man when she was having her period and she stained his sheets and hemade her wash them right after they finished. Diane was simultaneously enthralled and appalled. What kind of life was this anyway? What kind of person? Still, she listened and occasionally asked questions. Apparently nothing could shock Miriam, so she asked her if she ever asked for money and Miriam said, “No, never. Of course not.”
    Diane never told her family or other friends about Miriam. She was certain they couldn’t understand, especially since she was not sure she did. But the fact remained: Miriam was her friend, she couldn’t really figure her out or criticize her because that’s just the way she was.
    â€œWhy don’t you come over to my place after work tonight,” Miriam asked Diane one night.
    â€œAnd do what?” Diane asked in return, discovering a pocket of fear in herself. She hadn’t meant to insult Miriam and Miriam didn’t appear to take it as such.
    â€œJust mess around. We’ll think of something. Greta’s going out. It’s safe. The old hag has a date, can you believe it? At her age. I’d like to see the gentleman caller that would stoop to taking Greta out