03 MAY 26

Cracking out of dreams at six-thirty... cave crawling into Myst-lit auditorium serving paper cups of cave-cold strawberry-lemon ice cream and lavender cookies...

Two hours later... kids kicking at each other sideways in the church pew... keeping it quiet like no one will notice... swipe... swipe... swipe...

The seminarian is reading from the book of Acts... “...a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit, and Philip, and Prochorus, and Nicanor, and Timon...”

Lean over to Patience and whisper... “I think Timon’s the name of that pig in Lion King...”

She scrunches her face at me and takes my pen and notebook to continue the conversation... “Did you say bacon?”

“What? No... I said pig...”

“Oh! I thought you said BACON!”...

And we’ve missed the rest of the reading from Acts... we miss a little more later when Patience asks several other vital questions including... “Can I have hot cocoa before Sunday School?” and... “I don’t like the smell of paper”... and other pertinent things like that...

Give it another few hours and Patience is attempting bribery at home between a couple episodes of “Reba”...

“I will give you FIFTY DOLLARS if you come to my performance today Puck!”...

He grins... “Sure sure... I’ll do that... how long will it be?”

“Maybe forty-five minutes...”

“Uh I’ll PASS...”

“OKAY...” **pause to contemplate**... ONE HUNDRED!”...

Puck almost chokes laughing... and it’s a good thing Patience reneges the hundred dollar offer because it’s a rough performance at the international festival fifteen minutes north... music pounding loud and effectively for the African fusion and traditional Bulgarian dancers but carries more of a drowning effect for Irish hard shoes in a group of girls already painfully short of participants that afternoon...

But as for Timon... he wasn’t the pig... he was the meerkat...