We should have a funeral," he said.

Pan held his hands clasped in a tent on his lap, and he bowed his head.

He seemed to be trying to recall something, and it was a long time before he finally said, "Our Father. Our Father. Our Father. Amen."

Then he leaned back, and his face was blank again. He smiled, all white teeth. "There.

Autore: Jodi Lynn Anderson