option a

Chapter 5

East of Hwy 51, snug against the tree line of Giant City State Park, Makanda Illinois writes its name on the map. Its boardwalk is scuffed by the slow tread of hippies; its train tracks smoothed by more people going than coming. Bing found himself on Hwy 51 but 5 miles from Makanda. It had not taken too much explaining to convince Prism and Marley that he needed to go home. To defy, to stick it to the man, was a quest worth sacrifice in their minds. And so he willed his little feet once more to wander and trudged along the asphalt. Trusting the hospitality of a friendly truck driver, Bing made his way to an intersection with train tracks.

We leave our little friend here. Truth be told, the world knew little more of Bing Keefer. He never returned to the safe shelter of his Aunt and Uncle's farm. He never gave another doleful sermon to his sheep, never again prayed to the twelve saintly cats. Bing's trail was lost in the outskirts of Makanda. However. . .

Some thirty years later, from the mountain heights of Kashmir, a book was written and later published under the name King Beefer. The book was titled "A god in my image: memoirs and confessions."