I invited the guests to my if-you-could-dine-with-anybody dinner: Jesus, Jim Harrison, Carly Simon, and my great grandmother Callie. It was a gorgeous beginning, everyone appearing so at ease, then Jesus started ascending, calling down ‘its really to your advantage if I go.’ I said ‘okay’ – I half expected that from him all along. Then Jim Harrison (after presenting me a bottle of Domaine Tempier Bandol) shapeshifted into a bear, huffed at the Lord’s quickly elevating soles, and loped off toward a pine thicket. I yelled ‘Thanks, Jim!’ but I guess he didn’t hear me. Carly Simon wore that blue sweater from No Secrets, as I’d hoped, but halfway through her entree she began to beam away like in a Star Trek episode. This confirmed my boyhood belief that she is something wholly other. So that left me and Callie, my Native American ancestor, who died long ago and of whom is said ‘she never talked much.’ You don’t want to move too fast around the dead and I feared she was already spooked on the heels of the other guests’ dramatic exits, so I opened Harrison’s bottle and offered her a glass. She accepted and surprised me with ‘You have your grandmother’s eyes.’ We sat still, just me and Callie. She said ‘Look here, I’m going after that bear, but really, son, thank you for a wonderful evening.’ She walked away with
streaks of sunset on her shoulders. I yelled ‘Nice to meet you, Callie!’ I thought
she didn’t hear me but then I could see no, she was commanding the silence.
seek and you shall find
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