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%u00a9Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights ReservedHOW TO LEGALLY QUOTE FROM THIS BOOKWhat They Did to the Kid 143%u201cOh, no,%u201d I said. %u201cNot me.%u201d%u201cYou qualify, don%u2019t you?%u201d Lock asked.%u201cSo do you,%u201d I said.%u201cYou handle it, Lock.%u201d Mike begged him. %u201cThis has to be handled right. I might or might not have a vocation, but I don%u2019t want to get shipped. If I leave, I want to leave by my free choice.%u201d%u201cYou handle it, Lock,%u201d I said. %u201cYou%u2019re the most respectable seminarian at Misery.%u201d%u201cYou%u2019ve got clout,%u201d Mike said to Lock.%u201cYou%u2019re actually ship-proof,%u201d I said. %u201cYou%u2019re the golden boy.%u201d%u201cI bet you, Lock,%u201d Mike said, %u201cthose old priests would believe anything you said.%u201d%u201cThis is a temptation,%u201d Lock said, %u201cto vanity.%u201d%u201cThat%u2019s better than impurity,%u201d I said.%u201cBut harder,%u201d Lock said, %u201cto resist.%u201d Mike swore us both to secrecy, which we sealed by each throwing a rock into the mirror of the lake sending Misery%u2019s reflection out in loony rings of moonlight.The next afternoon, after Hank the Tank and his bevy of choir boys and sacristans had erected a lavish white silk May altar, the annual May Crowning of the Virgin Mother wound in long procession through the main chapel. In crisp white surplices over black cassocks, wearing our black biretta hats foursquare on our heads, we carried a hundred vases of lilies and lilacs and peonies and roses in procession to the statue of the Virgin Mary, singing in unison to the Mother of all priests.%u201cBring flowers of the fairest!Bring flowers of the rarestfrom garden and hillsideand woodland and dale!Our full hearts are swelling,our glad voices telling,the praise of the loveliestRose of the vale!Oh, Mary, we crown Theewith blossoms today!Queen of the Angels!Queen of the May!%u201d