Bing hesitated. With a shrug and a light step, Bing followed the hippie Marley. Indeed, the confidence that he was shortly to accomplish his Divine mandate overshadowed any nagging misgivings about the eccentric stranger. And eccentric he was!
Marley extended his hand to little Bing and began to weave his way through the tents and rvs. His long hair fascinated the boy. His raiment looked well worn and smelled of earth and camp fire. Marley's voice boomed like a prophet's. And it boomed now as it greeted other bearded figures (Bing didn't always know if they were men or women) along the way.
"Hey, man, what's trippin?"
"Diamond, you've gotta meet my new friend; he'll blow your mind!"
"Prism! I've got someone you need to meet."
And with the last explosion of jargon, Marley swung Bing around to face the much anticipated Prism. By now Bing was beginning to sense the strangeness of his current situation. The scenery was different. These people were different. And all at once he missed his 12 cats. He missed the docile receptivity of his uncle's sheep. He missed his Aunt Constance. This woman was no Aunt Constance.
Prism was indeed a beautiful woman. Every square inch of her person jingled or sparkled. Bing was overcome with the impression that the person in front of him had been rolled in glitter and wind chimes. With long wild red hair and colorful clothing, she rivaled Marley for "loudness." And now she was pumping Bing's hand with vigor and welcoming him to the pad. Bing was fed a sandwich and given a glass of milk. He was called "dear" and "hun" and "small fry." He was offered a beverage that smelled like Uncle Danny's garage. He drank his milk.
"I'm looking for green pastures," Bing began. He looked to Marley's wise face. "You know where they are right?"
"Far out, little man. Far out. You lookin for that too, huh. Prism, what can we say to that?" Marley replied and then was arrested by an expression of deep thought. It seemed to occupy him for some time.
Prism ventured, "Well, hun, that's a big question for someone so young. You've come to the right place if you think the establishment is a drag. This crash pad is yours if you need a place to chill for a while." At this invitation, Marley nodded his assent and added, "Like I said, Bing, welcome to greener pastures."
It was at precisely this moment that Bing began to doubt his calling. He felt his spirits lagging. In his heart he could feel the black trusting eyes of his woolly congregation looking to him for guidance. He had promised them this obedience. He would lie down in green pastures. And yet, he had never anticipated that the angelic heralds of the will of God would answer to Prism and Marley. Without a doubt, green plants abounded in this place. Each carefully tended plot was guarded by an earnest if not somewhat languid personage. Bing had observed several people actually laying down by these small verdant patches, and imagined they too had heard and obeyed. And yet . . . his confidence wavered. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he should go home.
What happens next?
a. Bing walks back to the highway
b. Bing discovers that Prism makes cherry pie and is instantly convinced to stay
c. Bing converts to Buddhism