into the city and use your gift.”
“Those idiots deserved it,” Miss Carriage said. “There was even a guy with
a Jesus sock puppet on his hand. These people are getting weirder.”
“I don’t care,” the mother told her. “Your father isn’t going to like
hearing about this.”
“He’s been wanting to give those zealots a piece of his mind for twenty
years,” Miss Carriage said.
The exile stood back, trying not to draw attention from either of the
women.
“And what’s your name?” the mother asked.
Jimmy Summers sighed.
“Jimmy,” he replied.