TUESDAY MORNING - 8:53am 5/1/90 MAC Center

“Why, hello Jacob Laberman.”

He extends his hand to shake. A custom he has learned to enjoy.

“Morsad, Surin Sthah! I am Darnesc Meer, Father Illumina of the Wycolt Temple of Surin on the Visible Wyrld. (beat) But, you already know all of that.”

Jacob is gobsmacked. The priest’s smile is full of love. The profound familiarity of this old man could have been explained away as an unsettled night sleep, or a badly digested round of his mother’s apple pie. But the way that Surinite blessing rolled off of his tongue was an unmistakable tell.

“You...you are not from here.”

The gentleman smiles with the warmth of melted butter on a hot slice of Bubbe’s cinnamon bread.

“And you, Marustade...are a wonderful blessing this world sorely needs.”

He turns to Juan and grabs him in a full and long overdue embrace.

“Young man! I am so overjoyed to see you again! (beat) Your accompanying Jacob today was a blessing only Our Mother could have ordained”

Leaving his left hand on Juan’s shoulder, he embraces Jacob with his right, and casts a engaging smile to Caleb. Just then Anthony approaches.

“While I draw breath. Rogan of Amendar in the newborn flesh! (beat) I will add my prayers to this day. Then tonight...we feast and catch up on lifetimes lived!”

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