Morning. Did you sleep? She was crying all night. Said she was having bad dreams.

I heard her. Crying. Didn’t hear any talking, but there was crying.

Lately, she cries all the time. She could be in the grocery store and just break down in the middle of the produce aisle. Weeping over cabbage. Or something.

The other day she cried. Talking about the second coming of Jesus. Said she wasn’t ready for it.

Did you tell her she was?

No. I said nobody is. Left it at that. Figured she wouldn’t feel so singled out. Told her I wasn’t. Said I hadn’t been to church in years.

You told her that?

Yeah.

No wonder she’s crying all the time. She thinks she’s going to Hell, dad laughed. Poor thing. We gotta get her baptized.

You know any preachers?

We’ll do it ourselves. Take her down to the river and dunk her under for a bit or two.

That’ll work?

I believe so, the old man poured himself a glass of whiskey. He pointed at it. Holy water, he said.

Holy water, the boy poured a shot as well.

Here’s to Heaven.

Cheers.