«But don't think,» Patricia said earnestly, «that a person can get into an Inner Temple Happiness meeting just with a tattoo mark. A visiting brother or sister — Well, take me. As soon as I know where the carnie is going, I write the local churches and send my fingerprints so they can check 'em against the file of eternally saved at Archangel Foster Tabernacle. I give 'em my address care of Billboard. Then when I do — and I always go Sundays and
She added, «But everybody is interested in my Foster's kiss … because, since he went back to Heaven twenty years ago, not many have a Foster's kiss that wasn't laid on by proxy — I have the Tabernacle testify to
Mrs. Paiwonski hesitated, then told them, in explicit detail — and Jill wondered where her limited ability to blush had gone? Then she grokked that Mike and Patty were two of a kind — God's innocents, unable to sin no matter what they did. She wished, for Patty's sake, that Foster had really been a holy prophet who had saved her for eternal bliss.
But
Suddenly, through her greatly improved recall, Jill was back in a room with a glass wall, looking into Foster's dead eyes. But he seemed alive … and she felt a shiver in her loins and wondered what
She shut it out of her mind, but not before Mike caught it. She felt him smile, with knowing innocence.
She stood up, «Pattycake darling, what time do you have to be at the lot?»
«Oh, dear! I should be back this blessed minute!»
«Why? The show doesn't roll until nine-thirty.»
«Well … Honey Bun misses me. She's jealous if I stay out late.»
«Can't you tell her that it's a Happiness meeting?»
«Uh…» The older woman gathered Jill in her arms. «It is! It certainly is!»
«Good. I'm going to sleep — Jill is bushed. What time do you have to be up?»
«Uh, if I'm back by eight, I can get Sam to tear down my top and have time to make sure my babies are loaded safely.»
«Breakfast?»
«I'll get it on the train. Just coffee when I wake up, usually.»
«I make that here. You dears stay up as long as you like; I won't let you oversleep — if you sleep. Mike doesn't sleep.»
«Not at all?»
«Never. He curls up and thinks a while, usually — but he doesn't sleep.»
Mrs. Paiwonski nodded solemnly. «Another sign. I know-and, Michael, some day you will know. Your call will come.»
«Maybe,» agreed Jill. «Mike, I'm falling asleep. Pop me into bed. Please?» She was lifted, wafted into the bedroom, covers rolled themselves back — she slept.
Jill woke at seven, slipped out of bed, put her head into the other room. Lights were out and shades were tight, but they were not asleep. Jill heard Mike say with soft certainty:
«Thou art God.»
«“Thou art god” — » Patricia whispered in a voice as heavy as if drugged.
«Yes. Jill is God.»
«Jill … is God. Yes, Michael.»
«And thou art God.»
«
Jill went quietly away and brushed her teeth. Presently she let Mike know that she was awake and found that he knew it. When she came back into the living room, sunlight was streaming in. «Good morning, darlings!» She kissed them.
«Thou art God,» Patty said simply.
«Yes, Patty. And thou art God. God is in all of us.» She looked at Patty in the harsh morning light and noted that she did not look tired. Well, she knew that effect — if Mike wanted her to stay up all night, Jill never found it any trouble. She suspected that her sleepiness the night before had been Mike's idea … and heard Mike agree in his mind.
«Now coffee, darlings. And I happen to have stashed away a redipak of orange juice, too.»
They breakfasted lightly, replete with happiness. Jill saw Patty looking thoughtful. «What is it, dear?»
«Uh, I hate to mention this — but what are you kids going to eat on? Aunt Patty has a pretty well stuffed grouch bag and I thought — »
Jill laughed. «Oh, darling, I shouldn't laugh. But the Man from Mars is
Mrs. Paiwonski looked baffled. «Well, I guess I knew. But you can't trust anything you hear over the news.»