We had a holiday tournament in Warsaw on Saturday the twentieth. Four teams, two games each. We played Plymouth at noon. At two, Warsaw played Bremen....At six, the losers played the consolation game. At eight, the winners played for the holiday championship. It was a JV tournament. The varsity was playing its holiday tournament at Syracuse. That meant two busses and for convenience sake, the cheerleaders rode with their team. I was a little worried about Renee because she'd be riding the same. Jake tucked Leslie into bed at ten that night and then headed for his bedroom. Tonight was not going to work for telling Melissa the truth about himself. Turkey-stuffed Jake was too tryptophan drowsy, while happy molecules of serotonin and melatonin strolled through his blood. Jake slept like a rock and woke up as hard as one. His morning erection was nestled pleasantly between Muffy’s lovely butt cheeks. Trish was on the other side of Melissa, awake looking at the two of them. Jake motioned. She drew a candle from her robes, a crude thing of rolled beeswax, herbs and lavender and touched it to Hucbet’s leading torch. It was the only light she was permitted when travelling into the spirit world. Juniper’s brothers stopped at the posts marking the border between the grasslands and the desert. This was as far as they were permitted to go. Her heart rose a little when she saw that the women of the village had wound two of the posts with sweet flowering jasmine, to guide her back from. The dignified bird tried to hide it but there was an unmistakable giggle in the six-foot wings. Recently, he’d taken up talking to whoever came along. A light conversation with several lost terns lasted late into the evening, their mutual complaints of scarce sardines and unusual weather passed the time. But in the blink of an eye, the terns recalled another date and flew in mid sentence. Whales were another matter entirely. Terribly serious, they had a thousand miles to travel and little use.
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