one
christmas morning
What, he said, over his shoulder--you thought Jim was Christian? He has
a spirit animal, Simon; he has visions. He grinned at me; his eyes crinkled
at the corners and I realized he was almost forty, that I'd known him for
nearly fifteen years. I have them too, now, he said. Jim calls it Judeo-Shamanism.
And he laughed, and I looked away, at the picture of them on the mantle,
their arms around each other. I grew up Baptist. I never thought, not once,
that I'd end up best friends with a couple of guys who were, well, whatever
they are--gay pagans?--and then Jim called from upstairs: Sandburg, could
you not leave your shorts on the floor for once? and they were just guys
again.
