Rasma raised a hand, intending to snap his fingers.
With that snap, everything around him would come to a standstill. After a moment's hesitation, however, he decided against it. Instead, he stood and called to Mason:
"Hey, Mason, I passed your house earlier and thought I heard Mary looking for you. Has some business come in?"
"Really?" Mason paused, then prepared to push his father's wheelchair home.
"The weather's so lovely today. He should get some more fresh air and spend more time out walking. Let me take our Mr. Dis for a stroll, and share the Lord's gospel with him along the way. Hopefully, he'll recover and wake up soon."
Mason trusted Father Rasma. They had gotten along well for a long time, and he often went to the church to drink with him. He simply didn't understand why Rasma always declined invitations to visit his home. Even when he passed the house, he never stepped through the courtyard gate.
"Sorry for the trouble, Father Rasma. I'll head home first, then come back to collect my father."
"There's no hurry. Take your time."
Once Mason had left, Rasma moved behind Dis, placed both hands on the wheelchair, and slowly pushed him along the river.
"Dis, I've gotten to know everyone in your family very well. I can more or less understand your attachment to your family, and just what it is you enjoy and cherish about it.
"I can understand you, though I'm not particularly enthusiastic about it myself.
"I've never thought about marriage or considered starting a family. It's not that my mother left me with any negative feelings about 'family.' In fact, although my childhood could hardly be called happy, now that I'm older, my memories of the past always taste sweet.
"My mother would always start