Chapter 11

A rocket with a really nice butt,Hubert tried not to think. If you wanted to know the truth, Hubert was beginning to wonder if there weren’t worse ways to spend eternity. But he knew too there was a better way, and he wasn’t going to take a pass on Paradise just for a pretty face.

Alone with little aside from the ceaseless susurrations of the sea and a supply of sandwiches, Hubert found time a little tricky. It could take the ruby crown of the sunset hours to sink into the waves, but in the blink of an eye he’d eaten the last of the immeasurable, endless stash of sweet pickles. Had Bartholomew been gone five days, five years, or five seconds? In eternity, did it matter?

Desperate as he was to behold the Glory, it mattered to Hubert, and when one day a speck on the blue horizon flapped steadily closer and revealed itself to be Bartholomew, Hubert ran down the hill to greet him. “Hi!”