（外文电子版资料）Robert Reed - To Church With Mr. Multhiford.pdf

ROBERT REED TO CHURCH WITH MR. MULTHIFORD It was everybodys idea. Or maybe it was nobodys. Maybe its that ideas drift in the air like gas, and beer and boredom worked on us to where we could catch hold of that particular notion. Sometimes I think thats what happens: Ideas are invisible clouds that get trapped inside peoples heads. Different shaped heads trap different ones, which explains a helluva lot. Here in Pelican County weve got a lot of simple round heads, if you know what I mean. Here it pays to be perfectly average. And if you happen to get stuck with a fancy-shaped head -- one that catches goofy ideas -- then youd best keep a hat on it. If you know what I mean. Habit is everything in this part of the world; nothing wants to change. Our Saturday night habit was to go somewhere peaceful, like the cemetery, and drink beer. Which is what we were doing when the idea found us. Pat started things off, saying, Im bored. Charlie belched and said, Yeah, why dont we pull something? A prank, he meant. Detergent in the town pool, trees dressed up with toilet paper. Thats the sort of stuff we specialized in. But that night somehow felt different, and we couldnt get excited about ordinary shit. We had ourselves another round of beers, and I stared up at the stars, feeling smaller than small; and finally, after clearing his throat of a big loud gob of something, Lester said, I know. Lets make ourselves a crop circle. Charlie belched again -- hes famous for his gassy sounds -- then reminded us, Its been done. Not by us, but he was right. Pelican County is famous for its crop circles, and everyone knew who made them. Old Man Multhiford, I was thinking. And just like that I knew what we could do. The idea settled in my head, and I giggled, and I said, Hey, lets make a circle out on Multhifords place! Pat straightened, eyes getting big and round. On his farm? Are you fucking serious? Multhiford put maybe half of the circles on his own land. T