Nine oclock?
Ten oclock.
I have to have bed check for the men at ten oclock. What about eleven oclock?
I think I make eleven oclock. Let me look in my book.
She looked in her book.
Eleven oclock, then, she said, writing a note in her book. Uhe trees?
Uhe stars, said Thomas.
The trees, said Julie, looks like rain.
If no rain, thears, said Thomas. If rain, therees.
Or the hedge, said Julie. Wet and dripping. Mulchy.
What are ying? asked the Dead Father. Could it be an assignation?
Nothing, said Julie. Nothing you should yourself about, dear old soul.
The Dead Father flang himself to the ground.
But I should have everything! Me! I! Myself! I am the Father! Mine! Always was and always will be! From whom all blessings flow! To whom all blessings flow! Forever and ever and ever and ever! Ameissime Pater!
He is chewing the earth again, Julie observed. One would think he would tire of it.
Thornas began singing, in a good voice.
The Dead Father stopped chewing the earth.
That is one I like, he said, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his golden robe.
For thihomas sang, in a good voice, is the kingdom, and the power, and the glo-ree, for-EVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVWVVVVVVVV-er. . .
That is one I like, said the Dead Father, I have always liked that one.
Thomas stopped singing.
By the way, he said, let me have your passport.
Why? asked the Dead Father.
Ill take care of it for you.
I take care of my oort.
Many people lose or carelessly misplace their passports, Thomas said. Ill take care of it for you.
Very kind of you but not necessary.
A lost or misplaced passport is a very serious matter. Many people are extremely careless with their passports especially older people.
Ive always been very careful with my passport.
Especially older people who are sometimes vague or fetful, a itant of advang age.
Are you suggesting Im being senile?
Ghastly look of the Dead Father.
Oh no, said Thomas. Not senile. Not for a moment. I just thought it might be better if I took care of your passport. We are crossing frontiers and all that. Let me have your passport.
No, said the Dead Father. I will not.
I knew an old person once who lost or misplaced his passport, said Thomas. Stopped by the border police, at a certain border, he could not find or locate his passport. There he was at the border station, frantic, digging through his suitcases, patting himself on the chest, turning out his pockets, and then bato the baggage. The amused tolerance of the buards turning into impatiehers waiting behind him in line, assorted loafers and jeerers loafing and jeering. Not to mention members of his own party nervously drumming fiips on every available surface. The entire group was forced to turn bad return to point in, all because this old coot had thought himself able to take care of his oort.
The Dead Father reached inside his cloak and produced a wreen passport.
Thank you, said Thomas. You see? Its bent.
Iion of passport in which sundry creases were seeable.
Only a little bent, said the Dead Father.
The individuals passport is the property strictly speaking of the g gover and therefore should not be bent, even a little. A bent passport makes suspect the petence of the passport holder.
I dont like this, said the Dead Father.
What? asked