80 S Z was pacing A’s kitchen, the smell of mint strong through the windows. A had let mint take a whole corner of the yard. We had mint tea, tabbouleh, whatever she thought of. A church, Z said. Jesus Christ, Viv said, Are we the KKK? It would be empty, he said, we’d do almost no damage. Just something on the altar, maybe. Where they keep the wine and the wafers, Viv said. Our natural enemies. A was just looking at Z, curious. Do you have a particular church in mind? Ford said. No, Z said, That doesn’t matter. After a pause Z said, Isn’t it the point, that all the wine, all the bread is one body? Yes, A said. I can’t tell how serious this is, I said. Is this a theological discussion or are we— 81 Oh, let’s label the conversation so Sara knows where to file it, Vivienne said, reaching for the wine Ford was pushing toward her. Well, would you do it? I asked her. Do what? Viv said. Bomb a church. What matters is what it would say, she said, not whether I’d say it. That’s nice philosophy, I said, but— Then file it under philosophy, she said, What a relief that must be for you. No one said anything. You could also call it a metaphor, Viv said, now that I think about it. It’s not the worst idea, Ford said. Z was at his computer screen, no longer listening. ...