Dragonfly Dreams, Part Five

It didn’t take long for something to happen. It was merely seconds between Chuck letting the monkey (which only moments before had been just a tattoo on his arm) out the door and the screaming to begin. Frank was still slightly in shock about seeing the monkey come to life. Of course, when you have seen your boss floating in the air, nothing keeps you in shock too long. He decided that he would just file that image away in a little place in his mind that he had recently labeled “True but Unbelievable.” It was just easier not to think too much about these events.

It sounded like a war had broken out in the airport. There were screams and the sound of running feet. Frank flinched when a gunshot rang out followed by the sharp, crisp scream of a woman. Chuck stuck his head out the door, apparently not concerned if he was going to be shot or not. He motioned for Frank to follow him as he slipped out the door.

If the sounds had been bad, the actual scene was even worse. People were running and screaming. Frank saw some of the nuns from earlier kneeling next to the women’s bathroom and praying. Perhaps they were praying for salvation. Perhaps they had eaten a bad burrito. Frank didn’t care. Another gun shot rang out. The place was totally wiped. Had one little monkey caused all of this commotion?

As he ran behind Chuck, trying to keep up with the slightly younger but definitely more athletic man, he saw the cop who looked like George Lopez go running past. The cop didn’t see him. He couldn’t see him. There was a monkey on top of face, clinging and screeching like a rabid beast.

Moments later, he was free of the hot, stale air of the airport and running in the hot, sticky air of a typical Brazilian summer day. Chuck stopped just in front of him and whistled for a taxi. After a quick negotiation which Frank couldn’t hear or understand, they piled into the back of the broken down little car and were on their way.

Frank took a moment to get his bearings. He was in the back of a taxi (if you could call it that) and was barreling down a crowded street in Brazil. He didn’t even know what city he was in. And the taxi....my God, Frank thought….it was covered with little pictures of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. There were a set of rosary beads hanging from the rearview mirror.

“You a religious man Frank?” Chuck asked.

Frank didn’t say anything….just shook his head. He had gone to church pretty regularly at one time in his life…but that had been many years ago. In another life….in another time.

“Yeah…well…by the time this is all over,” Chuck rubbed the place on his arm where the tattoo of the monkey had been, “You just might find salvation.”

Frank decided that he was just going to play mum. He would go along with this freak for the moment until he could find some time to get away….get off to himself….find some time to think. Everything was happening too fast. He needed to call home…to check in with the company. He needed to know what he was supposed to be doing.

Chuck reached in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to Frank.

“Just in case you don’t believe me,” he mumbled.

Frank looked down at the paper which was slightly damp and very wrinkled from being in Chuck’s pocket. He was surprised to see a picture of himself! Underneath it was a message which at one time had been neatly typed. Now it was smudged and hard to read. Swerving from side to side in the rocking taxi, Frank deciphered the note.

Find Frank Mason. Take him to the village. Let him meet the old woman.
He MUST meet the old woman. She knows the way. She has seen it before!
Above all else, protect Frank Mason. He is a Finder.


Frank was amazed to see that it was written on the company’s own letterhead. He guessed that it could have been forged….a copy….but he doubted it. Why would someone go to so much trouble. But then….there had been Martha Miller….or was it Janet Jones? He wondered what was so important that someone would try to get him arrested….make him attack the very person who was sent to meet him? His head started to swim. Partly it was from the crazy driving and the heat….partly it was from all of the things that were happening.

“Who is the old woman?” Frank finally asked, handing the note back to Chuck who waved it away. Apparently he didn’t need it anymore.

“I’ve only met her once myself,” Chuck said, “But that was over a year ago. All that I know for sure is that the company is after something…amazing. It is something that is lost somewhere in the Brazilian jungle….and that place is pretty freaking huge! But this woman…her name is Irza….has seen it.”

“But what is it that we are supposed to be finding?” Frank asked, his curiosity peaking.

Chuck just smiled and his face lit up, “I can’t really say. I don’t really know. I just know that it is something…FANTASTIC. The locals talk about it though. They say that in the jungle…if you look hard enough….you can find the face of God!”

Frank just stared at Chuck. If it had been a few months earlier, he would have considered Chuck to be just another loony. Now….well, now….he wasn’t so sure. Was he supposed to find the face of God? Just what exactly did that mean anyway?

A loud honking sound pulled him out of his thoughts. Another taxi was careening toward them from the left side. Frank saw movement in the back seat. It was a woman…a very familiar woman….Janet Jones! She was leaning out the window….she was holding something in her hand.

“Get down you fool!” Chuck yelled, pulling Frank down into the floor so quickly that he didn’t have time to register the fact that a loud bang had filled the air. Glass was falling all around him. They were being shot at….and by the looks of things, Janet Jones was not out to just get them arrested. She was out for blood!

“What do you know?” Chuck smirked, “Stuck in this cab….and I’m fresh out of tattoos!”

Dragonfly Dreams, Part 4

The little office was hot and smelled of stale cigarette smoke and urine. After being whisked away by the two policemen, Frank Mason found himself seated in this room at the far end of the airport. The two cops had left the room momentarily but then had returned. They were each smiling at him in a way that he didn’t quite like…but at least he had gotten away from the man with the monkey tattoo. He wondered where Martha Miller had gone. Surely she would come looking for him and help him get out of this mess.

“Is this your bag, senor?” one of the cops said, holding up Martha’s black bag. Frank thought that he looked a little like George Lopez.

“Uh no…no it isn’t,” Frank said, “Actually, I was holding it for a friend.”

Both of the cops looked at each other. The one holding the bag reached inside it and pulled out a little blue book. He threw it down on the table in front of Frank. Opening it, Frank was amazed to see that it was his own passport!

“Isn’t that your passport, senor?” the fatter of the two cops said, wheezing slightly.

“Ummmm….” Frank began, “I don’t know what’s going on here..but…”

The cop who looked like George Lopez asked again, “Isn’t that your passport?”

“Yes,” Frank couldn’t deny it. How had his passport gotten into Martha’s bag? He didn’t know what was going on.

With one swift movement, the cop turned the bag over. Three large plastic bags clumped out onto the table. They were filled with a white powder. Frank had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn’t need to ask what was in the bags.

“Cocaine, senor,” George Lopez said, “And I take it that it belongs to you as well.”

For the next hour, Frank was interrogated. They asked him every question in the book. They asked him about his job…which he couldn’t really say anything about other than that he worked for a pharmaceutical company. They asked him why he was in the country…which he couldn’t really say because he didn’t know himself. They asked him why he was trying to smuggle drugs INTO the country.

And Martha Miller? There was no sign of her. Nothing was in the bag except his passport and the drugs. There was no Martha Miller to be found in the airport. And to top it off, there was no record of a Martha Miller ever being on his flight. Even the flight attendants that they questioned stated that they didn’t remember anyone being with him on the flight.

“You are in serious trouble my friend,” the cop who didn’t look like George Lopez stated, “BIG trouble. If I were you, I would talk now…and maybe it will go easier for you.”

“But I don’t know anything!” Frank stammered….angry at being in this situation to begin with, “I told you….that bag belongs to…”

“Yeah yeah,” the cop laughed, “The mysterious woman who just happened to disappear from the women’s bathrooms.”

Laughing the cop walked out of the room, leaving Frank alone with his thoughts. He put his head down on his arms. How in the world was he going to get out of this mess? Should he try calling the company back in the States? He didn’t know. He just knew that something was wrong.

He heard the door open and someone walk into the room. The cops were back. Looking up, though, he saw that it wasn’t the cops. It was a man….a man who looked all too familiar. Frank found himself staring at the tattoo of the monkey holding the large banana.
“Well Frank,” the man spoke with an Australian accent, “You’ve really gone and messed everything up big time.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” Frank asked, “Don’t try anything….the cops are right outside! Hey….how did you get in here anyway? And how did you know my name?”

“Questions….questions…so many questions,” the man smirked, “Perhaps you should have asked some of those questions before you started swinging that bag of yours.”
“It isn’t MY bag,” Frank said, “It belongs to…”

“Martha Miller,” the man said, “Only her name isn’t Martha Miller. Her name is Janet. Janet Jones. And she’s no good Frank. She’s a spy. She’s trying to beat us to the….well….you’ll find out in time. How much has the company told you?”

“Nothing,” Frank said, “You mean…you work for Gaia Pharmaceutical?”

“For fifteen years now,” the man said, “My name’s Chuck. No last name…just Chuck. Now….if you want to get out of here before the cops come back, I suggest that you do exactly as I say.”

Frank nodded. He still didn’t trust this stranger…but anywhere would be better than staying here and being thrown in a Brazilian prison.

“What do we have to do?” Frank asked.

“Just watch,” Chuck smiled.

Chuck began to flex his arm. His muscles began to move, making the tattoo of the monkey appear to dance and move around. It looked almost real….very real. And then it moved. It began to pull itself right off of Chuck’s arm. Frank couldn’t believe what he was seeing as the tattoo came to life right before his eyes. But there it was…standing on the table right in front of him. The monkey looked silently up at Chuck.

“You know what to do,” Chuck whispered.

The monkey nodded and headed for the door. Chuck opened it and let it out into the hallway.

Dragonfly Dreams, Part Three

The flight had been long and tedious. Frank Mason just wanted to have a vodka tonic (or three) and take a nap. Martha Miller, the self-proclaimed psychic, on the other hand turned out to also be a chatter box. She talked nonstop the entire trip. She asked about his job with the company. She asked about his hobbies and what books he liked reading. She even asked if he was dating anyone!

Frank thought that she asked an awful lot of questions, but the even stranger thing about it was that he found himself just blabbing away. It was almost as if he couldn’t help himself. There was something strangely comforting about the woman…even if she did get on his nerves. Now how was that for an oxymoron!

He closed his eyes as the plane began its descent into the sticky heat of a typical Brazilian day. Even in the air-conditioned comfort of first class, he could feel the strength of the sun bursting through the little window. He lowered the shade. He hated to watch the ground rush up toward him. Too many things could go wrong.

“Don’t worry,” Martha Miller said beside him, “We aren’t going to crash. I’m psychic…remember? I haven’t had any bad omens for this flight.”

She tapped her forehead. Frank smiled wanly and gave her a nod. He still wasn’t sure if she was serious or just a little kooky. Was it possible to be a little of both? Maybe she could tell him what the company wanted them to do in Brazil. He was just getting ready to ask her when the plane bumped onto the runway.

“Welcome to Guarulhos International Airport,” a pleasant female voice announced over the intercom, “We hope that you enjoyed your flight and that you have a pleasant time in the beautiful country of Brazil. Please have your passport ready for customs. Have a great day!”

The message was immediately repeated in Spanish. While this was going on, Martha had jumped up and was quickly rummaging for bag in the overhead compartment. She moved quickly for a larger person. Frank was impressed.

“Listen Mr. Mason,” Martha said, “When we get off this plane, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real fast. I am about to bust! I hate peeing in these little airplane bathrooms. I’m always afraid that I’m gonna get stuck in them…or worse, fall out into the aisle!”

Frank nodded and tried not to act embarrassed. Martha, meanwhile, continued to rummage in the overhead compartment.

“I swear,” she said irritably, “I just hate the way that everything gets all jumbled on these planes.”

She finally managed to drag her large, black bag out of the overhead. People were already starting to line up to get off of the plane. Martha stood to block the people behind and allowed Frank to get up. Grabbing his own case, he walked slowly up the aisle.

Everybody seemed to be moving slower than ever. He hated to be jammed in a plane like this. Martha was pressed right up against him. He could feel her breath on the back of his neck.

“I wish that they would hurry up,” she whispered in his ear, “I’ve really gotta go!”

Soon they were off of the plane and into the equally crowded airport. Frank had only traveled out of the country once before, and the experience of being in a foreign place was still a strange experience for him. All around him people were scattering to the left and right. And Spanish filled the air. He had learned a few phrases since joining Gaia, but he couldn’t rely on what few phrases he had picked up…unless he just wanted to ask for a cheeseburger or where the bathrooms were.

And speaking of bathrooms, Martha Miller flung her big, black bag toward him and headed off toward a sign which read banos…or bathrooms.

“Hold that, will ya’ sweetie?” she called out over her shoulder, “I don’t want to set it down in…something. I won’t be too long.”

If Frank had ever been a married man, he would have known what it felt like to hold a woman’s purse while she shopped, tried on clothes…or visited bathrooms in foreign lands. As it was, he felt a little bit awkward. Nobody was paying him any attention though. They were all too busy gathering their paperwork together for customs, stretching after long flights, or lighting up a cigarette. Apparently, smoking wasn’t frowned upon in airports here!

Just then Frank saw him. A man was leaning up against the wall at the far end of the hallway. He was staring at Frank and then looking at a piece of paper which he held crumpled in his left hand. He looked once more at Frank and frowned. Then he started to walk slowly toward him. But all that Frank saw was the tattoo on the man’s bulging bicep. The tattoo was of a large, brown monkey holding a banana that was larger than its entire body. Frank was looking at the man with the monkey. And the man with the monkey was headed straight for him!

Panic rising in him like high-tide, he quickly glanced toward the bathrooms. There was no sign of Martha Miller anywhere. She was the one who had told him to watch out for the man with the monkey! Why hadn’t she warned him that the man with the monkey was going to be so close? What good was a psychic if they couldn’t be any clearer than that?

He looked back. The man was almost up to him. Frank let out a hiss. The man was reaching into his pocket! Was he going to pull out a knife….a gun? With a loud whoop, Frank swung Martha’s bag, knocking the man ( and a few other people ) down to the floor. Without looking back, he ran wildly down the hallway, pushing through the crowd like a madman. He had to get away. He would find Martha later.

People started screaming. He knew that he was causing a panic, but it couldn’t be helped. Up ahead, he saw a group of nuns walking toward him. They were practically blocking the entire hallway! He ran toward them, pushing people out of the way to the left and right.

“Out of the way sisters!” he yelled. He didn’t know if they just didn’t understand English or if they just liked getting in the way….probably a bit of both…..but the nuns just stood there. He started to push his way through….and that is where his luck ran out. More screams….more pushing….and then the sharp, shrill whistle of the police sounded.

Two cops pounced on him. They were both large men….heavyset due to the low demand of an airport security job. But now they had a new victim. Frank fell to the floor as the cops landed on top of him. He guessed that pushing nuns wasn’t allowed….even in a country where people smoked in the airports.

Frank glanced around as he felt a pair of handcuffs clap around his wrists. Someone was shouting angrily at him in Spanish. It was one of the nuns! One of the other nuns crossed herself and started to pray. There was no sight of the man with the tattoo of the monkey.

Later, Frank would remember that this was the exact moment when things went from bad….to worse.

Until next week, class dismissed!

Dragonfly Dreams, Part Two

Frank Mason shifted in his seat. First class was very comfortable…better than he was used to. But there was just something about sitting on an airplane that made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to flying…had never cared for it. But, ever since taking the job with Gaia Pharmaceutical over three months ago, he had found that it was a necessary evil.

Hoping to relieve some of his anxiety, he closed his eyes and replayed the scene in his head again…the one where he had been confronted with Mr. Gordon Jones (now his boss) floating in the air. At first, he had thought that it was just a trick of the light…that he wasn’t really seeing what he was seeing. But it had been too simple…too obvious…to be a trick. Mr. Jones had been floating. It was the plain and simple truth.

“Come back and sit down Mr. Mason,” Gordon Jones had said, as he slowly lowered back down onto the white plastic cube that seemed to serve the purpose of a chair for him.

Unable to speak, Frank had stumbled over to the sphere on which he had been sitting earlier. Although it was bulky and uncomfortable, it offered the support that he needed. Especially now that his legs felt like they were going to buckle underneath him.

“You were….ummm…you were…” he had stuttered.

“Floating,” Gordon Jones had opened his eyes. Although they had still been a shocking color of pale blue, they had also had a tired look to them…an old look.
Frank hadn’t known what to say. He had just stared at the floor. The silence in the room had been a creature that had clawed at his mind until Gordon Jones had finally spoken again.

“Gaia Pharmaceutical is an international conglomerate,” he had stated, “We have offices and people working for us all over the world. We are one of the richest companies in the world. And do you know how we got that way Mr. Mason?”

Frank had only shaken his head…however, he had somehow found the strength to look at Gordon Jones again. Thankfully, Mr. Jones had just been sitting there….and had not turned into a tiger or some other sort of creature.

“Because Frank,” Gordon had said, “Our public drugs are just a small part of what we do. Sure…we have all the latest miracle drugs. We can cure everything from heartburn to impotence. But we also had another side. We have a very lucrative deal with the government. We are working on finding plants and herbs that can enhance….abilities….in the everyday person. That little demonstration of floating that I just gave you was just one of the abilities that we have been unable to unlock. Power like that is very desirable to certain people in the government. Power like that is very….expensive.”

Frank had swallowed hard. He had hardly been able to believe what he was hearing. If he hadn’t had seen it with his own eyes then he still probably wouldn’t have believed it.

“Why are you telling me this?” he had asked, “What if I decide to not take a job here? What if I decide to talk?”

Gordon Jones had only smiled and stated, “I think that you and I both know that you aren’t going anywhere. You really need this job…for one thing. And also….like I said….we know that YOU are the right person for this job. It’s your destiny.”
And although it hadn’t been spoken aloud, Frank knew that he wouldn’t have left that office alive if he had tried to walk out the door. He shuddered to himself and opened his eyes. People were still boarding the airplane. He fumbled with the air conditioning controls and turned the steady, stale stream of air directly into his face.

So far, his job hadn’t been very demanding. He had been working in a large greenhouse that was located on company grounds. There were all kinds of plants in this monster of a building that had to be at least as big as 10 football fields. He could recognize many of the plants. But there were some that he had never seen before. For the last three months, he had been busy entering data into a computer about plant growth, moisture content, and fertilizer. But he hadn’t felt right….something was wrong. He was doing a job that any high school dropout could do. Surely this wasn’t why he had been hired….and yesterday, he had found out that he was indeed moving up in the company.

A note had arrived in his email. It had been plain and simple.

Mr. Mason,
Tomorrow you will board Flight 379 to Brazil. A company car will take you to the airport at 8 AM. Your tickets will be waiting for you. You will pack one bag of clothing only. Do not tell anyone where you are going. Further instructions will await you in Brazil.

And that had been it….no signature…no explanation….no apology for the late notice. And Frank knew….he just KNEW….that he wouldn’t be able to refuse this assignment. That is….if he still wanted to live.

And now….here he was. He had been sitting on this forsaken plane for what seemed like hours….but in reality was probably only minutes. He looked around at the people around him….tourists mostly. They were chatting excitedly about their plans in Brazil. A couple next to him were giggling and whispering to each other between kisses. Newlyweds probably.

Just then a loud wheezing sound made him turn his head toward the front of the plane. A large, heavyset woman was making her way down the aisle. She was dressed in a purple billowing dress that flowed around her like smoke. She struggled to shove her ample girth between the seats as she continued to walk toward him. Frank was amazed to see that she smiled at him and gave a little wave. What in the world was going on?

“Mr. Mason,” her voice tinkled in his ears like a wind chime. It was enticing. He had never heard a voice like it before. It was almost like a waterfall made out of diamonds.

The woman reached out a plump hand toward him. On habit, he reached and grabbed it. Her skin was soft and warm…and not entirely unpleasant.

“Mr. Frank Mason?” the woman asked.

“Why yes I am,” he said, releasing her hand as she placed her large black handbag in the overhead compartment, “And you are?”

“Martha,” she smiled down at him, “Martha Miller. I’m from the company. I’ll be going with you to Brazil…although honestly I don’t know why I am going at all. Usually I do all of my work at home.”

“Oh really,” Frank shifted over to the window seat so that Martha could plop down beside him, “Do you do data entry or something?”

Martha laughed. Her tinkling voice rang out and filled the airplane.

“Oh no,” she giggled, “I do readings for the company. I’m a psychic. By the way…when we get to Brazil, don’t talk to the man with the monkey. Something bad will happen…I’m pretty sure of it. I saw a little psychic flash when we shook hands.”

Frank just sat there. He didn’t know what else to say. At least he could feel the airplane starting to taxi down the runway.

Until next week…class dismissed.

Dragonfly Dreams, Part One

“Mr. Mason?” a twenty-something receptionist was looking at Frank Mason with some concern. Frank jumped a little in his seat. He had been lost in his thoughts again. His mind usually wandered whenever he was bored…or kept waiting at a job interview. He had been planning out what he wanted to say to come across as the best possible candidate for the job. He really needed the work.

Shuffling to his feet and trying to regain his composure, Frank walked toward the receptionist who was now smiling slightly at him. He smiled back. Have to keep that friendly face on for a little while longer, he thought. The long-haired bimbo probably didn’t even know what this company was about. She was just the window-dressing. A pretty face in the front office made people feel at ease. Frank saw on her nameplate that she was Maria L.

“You can go in now,” Maria smiled again. Frank thought that her smile seemed a little forced….a little fake. He didn’t care. As long as he got the job. That was all that he cared for at the moment.

He walked nervously up to the door of the main office. The door was made of a smoky, dark glass. The gold lettering on the door reminded him (as if he could forget) that he was here to see Mr. Gordon Jones – Marketing. He took a deep breath and tried to look confident as he entered Mr. Jones’ office.

The office was unlike any other offices that he had seen before. He had been expecting the traditional office of a desk, chairs, a lamp, and maybe a plant or two. Instead, the inside of the office was almost completely bare. The walls were painted a dark blue that seemed to shimmer in the soft lighting that dripped from the recessed overhead lighting. A large Oriental rug covered most of the floor, and Frank considered taking off his shoes before stepping on it. He didn’t want to mess things up before they even started by tracking dirt over an expensive rug.

“Come in Mr. Mason,” a voice called to him from the far side of the fairly large office. The room was rather gloomy and Frank felt his nervousness rise just a bit as he walked across the floor. He noted that there were no plants, no chairs, and not even a desk. Instead there was a large white cube which appeared to be made of plastic. A man was sitting upon it, his legs crossed under him. He appeared to be in his late 40’s, his salt and pepper hair long and flowing down his sides. He was dressed in a white linen suit and had two golden earrings in each ear. He had his eyes closed and was humming slightly to himself. Frank saw that he had no shoes.

Frank cleared his throat nervously, “Mr. Jones?”

The man opened his eyes which Frank saw were a surprisingly pale blue color….it was almost startling. He grinned with a boyish charm that seemed to warm the coolness of the room immediately.

“Why yes I am,” he smiled, “But you can just call me Gordon. I prefer it that way. And shall I call you Mr. Mason…or is it Frank?”

Frank shuffled nervously. What kind of freak was this? This wasn’t what he expected from a company that made nearly $500 billion dollars a year in the pharmaceutical business. Was the head honcho on some of his own drugs that the company made?

“Ummm….whatever…..Frank is fine,” he said.

“Please Frank…sit down,” Gordon Jones motioned with his hand to Frank’s left.

Frank looked over. There was a white plastic sphere sitting on the floor. Taking a deep breath of frustration, he tried to balance himself on the odd shaped seating. He considered bolting for the door. But then again….he really needed this job.

He looked over at Gordon Jones. The man had his eyes closed again and was breathing deeply. Frank wondered if he had passed out or had fallen asleep. He felt one hip trying to slide off of the large white sphere.

Taking matters into his own hands, he decided to move things along.

“Ummm….I guess that you had ample time to read my resume. I have an extensive background in marketing and in web-design. Due to downsizing, my last company unfortunately…” he began before being interrupted by a loud snort from Mr. Gordon Jones.

“No…I didn’t read your resume,” Gordon smirked, opening his eyes, “In fact, I threw it in the trash. It had so many words. I try not to read a whole lot of words at one time. It isn’t good for the eyes.”

“You didn’t read my resume?” Frank asked, shocked into disbelief, “My letters of reference?”

“Nope,” Gordon smiled again, closing his eyes, “Didn’t need them. I don’t believe in fluff.”

Frank felt his face begin to flush an angry red. Was this some kind of joke? Or an initiation of some sorts? He looked around to see if there were any hidden cameras. He didn’t know what was going on…but he did know that he was wasting his time. He stood up briskly and bowed once toward Mr. Gordon Jones.

“Mr. Jones,” he quipped, and turned quickly on his left heel. Heading toward the door, he heard Gordon’s voice call out behind him.

“I didn’t need to see those things Frank. I didn’t have to. I just KNEW that you were the one that we needed for our company. The job is yours if you want it.”

“Listen Mr. Jones,” Frank’s anger was evident in his voice as he turned back toward the freak in white linen, “I don’t know what is going on here……”

His words stopped dead in his throat. He could feel his heart start to beat wildly in his chest. His brain rejected everything that he was seeing.

Mr. Gordon Jones was floating 5 feet in the air above the white plastic cube that he had been sitting on. His eyes were still closed.

“I think that you should come back over and sit down,” he said.

Until next week…..class dismissed!