They were in the rainforest before they were in Jude, before he went there for the college. Now they were inside his head, though he didn’t know it.

Did they drill into his skin when he was waistdeep in muddy water? Were they in the spit of some tiny biting bug? Was it something he ate? Regardless, his brain was a fine starter home for three weeks.

His first Monday back, he thought about seeing a doctor until he stopped thinking. Tuesday, he went out and bought fertilizer. Wednesday, household cleaners. Thursday, PVC tubing, copper wire and a 12-volt battery.

That night he made a hat.

Friday, he walked to the school down the street.

Mrs. Helms’ third-graders laughed at the pale, oblivious man who entered room 115. While Mrs. Helms left to get a SRO , Jude took two copper wires between his fingers and tapped the battery. Mrs. Helms heard a gun (she thought). She ran back; her kids seemed unhurt once the gore was wiped from their wide eyes and gaping mouths.

But now there was nothing in Jude’s head at all.