We were driving down the road past churches when the girl said, "Windows up!" I figured this was so the town could water the trees and make the birds sing but really--it was because the black choir was singing on the steps and they (the girl yelling instructions) didn't want the sound to come through the windows. I was driving in a car with a man I didn't know to Brooklyn. I needed to take the Williamsburg Bridge but he said he wasn't gonna go over that bridge in this snowy weather. Rudy was approaching adolescence. He kept doing the wrong thing. We were shooting a pump air rifle at the moon. A B-B gun. I pumped it lots and lots of times, trying to shoot past the stars and then when my cousin came to shoot there was no pressure left, he said. Rudy was going to come in the house till he grew up. I could not find my bra. I had left it on the ground . I could see a dark spot in the grass that was probably it but I didn't feel like climbing out the window to get it. I was more interested in the music I was hearing. I said, "Do you hear that? Do you know what that is? It's Mozart's Sonata No. 17." It was beautiful to hear. It kept playing though there was only one page of music. I had a very, very long hat. Pockets were in it and shells were attached and water was in it and Eileen was rounding us up and I couldn't lift my hat to put it on. So I dumped out the water and took off lots of the shells and detached the useless end of the hat so I could lift it to put on my head and get on the bus. Then I decided not to wear it on my head at all, but I put it in my back pack. We were in an old, old dark room. Me and Eileen and a man. Old. Older than us. Old enough to know lots of things and forget lots of things. He opened a bag of rich smelling coffee on the counter. A little cloth bag. He scooped some coffee out with an old white plastic spoon. The coffee was rich and dark and smelled good. The old man was sad because he said his son never came to see him or talk to him. Eileen told him his son was there 2 weeks ago. Then she told him about the visit. The man did not want to remember. The visit was not how he had wanted so he would not remember it at all. They were reading a script in school desks. 3 people. The girl agent in between coaching the homeless man eating chili while he read and getting it all in his beard.