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Deshawn tripped over a root, dizzy from his encounter with St Lenny. His face met the spread of twigs that covered the forest floor. He breathed, sending dead pine needles flying. Then he pushed himself back up. Deshawn continued through the dark in the direction that Lenny had pointed him.

He heaved himself over a fallen tree trunk. He nicked himself on a thorn bush. He leapt over a bubbling stream. Then he heard the sound: someone was shouting.

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He grabbed the amulet that St Lenny had given him and pulled it near to his heart. Gathering courage, he moved around a mossy boulder. There was light streaking through the trees.

He grew closer. The sound was clearer now: a rhythmic bellowing, as if to invoke a pagan god. Closer: there were robed people carrying torches lit from the fires beyond. They were forming a ring. Closer: there were people prostrate on the forest floor. Closer: They were bowing, to whoever was delivering the sermon.

Deshawn circled to see who they were bowing to. He ducked behind a patch of ferns and then he saw: It was his mom.

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