It"s Sunday. I"d rather be practicing my magic skills, but instead, I get dressed, and Granny, Uncle Billy, and I venture off to church.
Sitting in the pews before the preacher comes out of whatever cubbyhole he waits in, I listen to people talking around me about the new sawmill owners" plan to cut into the virgin forest.
"Granny," I say, wanting to ask her something, but she hushes me. She, too, is listening intently to what is going on. I swear I can see her ears c**k and swivel just like a dog homing in on a sound.
Pastor McIntyre enters the sanctuary and walks over to stand at the pulpit. He nods at the organist to start the hymn, and everyone opens their songbook and stands.
Granny and I don"t got the singing talent, but Billy lifts his head, and a beautiful sound springs from hi
