Americorpses and the Helium Stick (and Sam)

And they tried to lower the pole (resting it, only, on their index fingers. Standing in two’s, in facing couplets). But it floated! They said, “Who is doing that? Stop that! Let us lower the pole to the ground!” But they could not. The pole floated. Though it did not seem to be a magic stick. Though it did not seem to be helium-full. Possessed or holy. Though they did not recognize, in the pole, a gassy compound. No mind of eighteen minds. No finger of thirty-six fingers could lower the pole to the floor. And Katherine laughed! And Braxton asserted his philosophies! And Sarah spoke (again!) of her January! wedding! Still they could not lower the pole to the floor. “What is the most difficult thing,” said the woman, “about lowering the pole to the floor?” Braxton said, “Alas, we have no dictator.” Elsie said, “The summer-camp established properties of arm-muscles.” Of all of the fingers—the fingers of Micah, of Sophie, of Zak and of the others—no finger could guide the pole down (to the floor). No finger could hold the pole level. Sarah said, “If we hold our fingers straight up?” And everyone kneeled. They said, “Still, we will teach the children. Whether the pole floats, or comes to rest.” Whatever is, or will be. Whether we speak Spanish, Swahili, or not.