Pontoon by Garrison Keillor

Author:Garrison Keillor [Garrison Keillor]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780571267828
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Published: 2011-09-05T04:00:00+00:00

“Let me tell you about my wedding,” said Debbie. She had a notebook on her lap, everything written out. It would be called a Celebration of Commitment. Not a wedding, as such. Same thing but different. She had ordered a sign for the pontoon boat, “Celebration of Commitment.”

“Boat?” said Mother.

Her minister, Misty Naylor, would conduct the service aboard the pontoon boat, The Agnes D. Wally’s pontoon boat. She had rented it for the weekend. “What church is she from?” asked Mother. “Misty is a seeker,” said Debbie. She used to be Presbyterian but she had a near-death experience during breast enhancement surgery and a door opened onto a garden full of golden light and beautiful plants and every different sort of person, Muslim and Hindu and Buddhist and Jew, all rejoicing and living in harmony, and when Misty returned to life, she dedicated herself to world peace and to Momentism—you know, the idea that all of time takes place in one moment, there is no eternity. “Very interesting,” said Daddy. “I hope I get a chance to talk to her and clear up some things.” He was also hoping there would be supper served soon, something meaty and substantial.

Misty Naylor was the founding sister of the Sisterhood of the Sacred Spirit in California, a church with no building, only a website. Every few weeks Misty announced a Confluence and a few hundred of the Sisterhood gathered in a park or plaza and they milled for half an hour, shuffling slowly in a circle, lost fragments of the universal divine. Openness without self-limiting expectations, no touching, no talking, just spirit essence, and as they milled, they listened for the tone as Misty blew it on a ceramic pitchpipe and they resonated with it to make the Sacred Chord, and when the entire Confluence had landed on the Sacred Chord, they held it and hummed powerfully together until they felt the Spirit from their toenails to the roots of their hair, and then they bowed, backed away, and dispersed. SOSS was Debbie’s spiritual family and Misty was flying out as a very very special favor. Debbie needed to clear out the upstairs bedroom for Misty to sleep in.

“And where will Brent sleep?”

“He’ll be fine on the porch.”

Water and fire are holy elements to the Sacred Spirit people, she explained, and so she (and Brent) wanted to say their vows on the water. She had rented the Agnes D for that purpose. The two of them would sail, with Misty, and carry a barbecue grill, the coals lit—water and fire—and say their vows while cruising across the water, observed by family and guests assembled under an awning where lunch would be served.

“Lunch?” said Mother, starting to rise from her chair. “I should call up Evelyn.” Visions of kitchen work, making ham salad, cutting crusts off sandwiches, frying Swedish meatballs and sticking toothpicks in them. Then she remembered that Evelyn didn’t do lunches anymore. Also, that she was dead.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered,” said Debbie.

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