Where’s Carl?

One day, while Carl and I were strolling around the nursery, he said, “I have an idea for a picture.”

I was suspicious. “What’s the picture for?”

Carl turned toward me, his smile, steady as ever. “For promoting your excellent book, The Five Names, of course. It’s always about you and your book, isn’t it?”

I could think of dozens of instances when that wasn’t the case. Regardless, hope sprang up. “Okay, where should I aim the camera?”

“Close your eyes until I tell you.”

I did as directed.

“You can open them now.”

Carl had vanished. I looked all around and couldn’t find him.

“I’m in the bush—right in front of you.”

I finally spotted him. “You want me to take a shot of the bush?”


I still hadn’t put the pieces together. “Carl?”

“I would have thought it obvious. It’s an eyesight exercise. For people to read your book, they will need good vision—especially when they become blurry-eyed. You know, the passages where they are overcome with laughter and the places where high drama leads them to tears.”

“Good job, Carl!”

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