Now we are standing just inside the doors. The space we have entered is what was called the Conversation Room on the old blog, modeled on the living room of our childhood home. This is impossible, of course; but here it is. It was here where I first spoke to Bruce (then simply known as “Bible Guy”), after his release from isolation from the rest of my selfsystem. We’ve come a long way, it seems. And now we’re back home.

I’m still played by Gellar. Bruce is now played by William H. Macy (as he was back then), but he looks older and has longer hair. To say that I am rather freaked out by all of this is an understatement.

He breaks the tense silence. “So… Here we are again. Why here?”

Through the right hand door at the far (South) end of the room steps Tom Waits. Excuse me, someone who is played by Tom Waits. He is smiling as he walks toward us. “Welcome!”

Waits has played roles here before, but it seems different this time. His appearance is somehow clearer, more vivid. He is wearing a clerical collar, but has a lit cigarette in his mouth. “I’m not really very important in this particular scenario. I’m just supposed to make sure you know that where you are really going is in there.” He points back toward the door through which he entered.

Having said this, he nonchalantly proceeds to walk between Bruce and me, exiting through the large archway that has replaced the doors through which we entered, and then disappearing to the left, into what I remember as “the den.” His smoke hangs in the air briefly as we look at each other.

Bruce looks puzzled, but I am sure of one thing. I point at the South door. “As he said, in there is where we are really going.”

Now he looks scared, and he seems to want to say something, After a moment, he turns and walks slowly toward the door. I follow.

The door is open, but what is beyond is not visible until we pass through. He goes first. Just before I enter, I hear him gasp and loudly whisper.: “Of course!” I see it now, and feel some sort of leap; was it in my stomach, or my heart?

We are now at the rear of the sanctuary of the Methodist Episcopal Church in which I was [we were] baptized.

I repeat Bruce’s whispered response. “Of course!”