His skin was a deep mocha. His long, kinky darkhair reached His feet. A halo of light shown all over His body.God said, "Come here, my son. Let me loo... at you."So I did. I mean, it was God."Turn around." God instructed me. So I did."You are not pleasing in My eyes," God clucked in a sad variation ofHis normal booming voice, like a crowd of men and women talking atonce."Forgive me, Lord," I pleaded. "What must I do?" Only trust in God, my son." I do trust you!" I shouted, filling myself up with. The vinegar was tart, salty and hinted at sweet. Followed by the root-beer, the meal was worth the 23 miles.Max was polite ... poor soul. He had no idea ... but we never do.A second root-beer in hand, they repaired to the back deck and watched the Lightning class sailboats drop spinnakers, round the Mill buoy and beat for the line and gun. The Optimist class had finished their single lap while the Lightnings were on their third.The Club was a flurry of young sailors dismantling their craft and. More

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