“Either his damaged brain believed that this was a literal truth,” she said, “or he had come to the conclusion that all the brains he had operated on were basically just receivers of signals from someplace else. Do you get the concept?” “I think I do,” I said. “Just because music comes from a little box we call a radio,” she said, and here she came over and rapped me on my pate with her knuckles as though it were a radio, “that doesn’t mean there’s a symphony orchestra inside.” “What’s that got to do with Father and Terry Kitchen?” I said. “Maybe, when they suddenly started doing something
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