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“I wouldn’t say no to a piece of sausage,” I intimated, perking up. So far this entire trip seemed to have been a bust. No pets to talk to and not much information to glean.

“For me a saucer of milk, if you please,” said Dooley politely.

“Poor babies are starving,” said Martha, who clearly was a woman with a big heart.

“Mom, don’t we have chocolate?” asked Jason. “Vesta is really partial to chocolate.”

“Tell that woman she can get her own damn chocolate,” said Gam-Gam from the door, staging a surprise return to the scene.

“Gam-Gam!” said Jason with a laugh. “I can’t tell my guests to get their own chocolate.”

“If you’re too chicken to tell them, I will,” she said, and made for the door.

Jason uttered a startled yelp and his mother said,“Don’t embarrass Jason in front of his guests, Mom. Just sit down and finish your soup.”

The old lady grumbled something under her breath, but still did as she was told.

Jason disappeared again, and in due course I received my piece of sausage and Dooley got his saucer of milk, as ordered. Almost as if Martha could understand us.

Moments later, Jason appeared again.“Do we have pralines? Vesta is partial to pralines.”

“To hell with the woman and her pralines!” cried Gam-Gam, getting up, but Martha pushed her back down.

“Look in the fridge. I think we have some left over from your uncle Bernie’s birthday.”

Jason retrieved the pralines and disappeared again, only to return moments later.“Is that tea ready yet?” he asked, slightly harried. And when his mother handed him the tray with the teapot and cups and saucers, he lifted the lid and sniffed. “What tea is this? Vesta specifically told me she only drinks herbal tea.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” said his grandmother, getting up. “I’ll give that fussy old bat a piece of my mind!”

“Sit down, mom,” said Martha, and the old lady sat down.

After being assured that only herbal tea was on the menu, Jason disappeared again, only to pop up again five seconds later, like a jack-in-the-box.

“Do we have any oatmeal cookies?”

“Let me get my hands on the woman!” Gam-Gam cried. “I’ll give her oatmeal cookies!”

“Be nice, Mom,” said Martha, and pushed her mother down onto her seat again. She turned to her son. “No oatmeal cookies, I’m afraid.”

“How about a knuckle sandwich?” said Gam-Gam.

“I think I’ll pass,” said Jason, and popped off again.

“Fun family,” said Dooley, having drunk the last drop of milk and licking it from his lips. “And so nice to cats.”

“Yeah, very nice,” I said, hoping Gam-Gam and Gran would never find themselves in the same room. Probably a minor nuclear explosion would take place.

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“I admire you so much, Vesta,” said Jason, unabashedly gushing over Odelia’s grandmother. “The way you singlehandedly managed to bring in all of those followers. And the way you convinced your family to join the church. I wish I could do the same.”

“Your family isn’t keen on joining your church?” asked Odelia.

They’d taken a seat in the living room. A couple of chairs had been placed around a small table, and in a corner a couch and two armchairs were positioned in front of an old television, all of them festooned with doilies. On the walls framed pictures of Jason’s family were in evidence, knickknacks liberally strewn across every available surface.

“No, my family isn’t as interested in the spirit as I am,” said Jason sadly. “They regularly attend Soul Science meetings, but I think they only do it to humor me.”

“I heard your grandmother refer to Soul Science as a cult?” asked Gran.

“Yeah, Gam-Gam is not exactly Master Omar’s biggest champion.”

“She looks like a real pistol.”

“She’s something else,” Jason agreed, inadvertently darting a glance at the door, as if dreading the prospect of his grandmother joining them. “So what brings you here?” he asked, then: “Oh, where are my manners? Do you want something to drink?”

“Tea, maybe,” said Gran.

“Nothing for me,” said Odelia, who didn’t want to inconvenience Jason or his family.

“What kind of tea do you prefer?” asked Jason, getting up.

“Anything you’ve got,” said Gran. “But if you have herbal tea, that would be great.”

“Be right back,” he said with a smile, and was off like a rabbit, only to return moments later with an apologetic expression on his face. “Tea will be a few moments.”

“That’s fine,” said Odelia. “The reason we’re here is because I’m actually a reporter, and I’m writing an article on Soul Science.”

“Only this is going to be a very positive article,” said Vesta, casting a pointed look at her granddaughter. “Isn’t that right, Odelia?”

“Yes, a very positive article,” she dutifully confirmed.

“You’re a reporter?” asked Jason, suddenly nervous. “I-I didn’t know that.”

“She’s a very honest and conscientious reporter,” Gran clarified. “Not one of them overly critical ones who like to twist your words and invent a lot of stuff you never said.”

“Yeah, I don’t go in for that sort of thing,” said Odelia.

“Okay,” said Jason, now wringing his hands. “So… what is it you want to know?”