We looped around the yard back and forth at a pretty good clip in the general direction of the house, like a deranged two-person conga line. "Serpentine!" my mother yelled as we rounded a tree. "Hopefully, she choked to death, but we can't be too careful, and there may be more of them."

"The dirt was a great idea."

"I always keep my dirt with me. Even caftans have pockets. Nobody takes away my dirt. You never know when you'll need it."

I was afraid to turn ...