I felt Mr. Smith’s pop bottle in my hand, and for a second I couldn’t remember why I would be carrying such a thing. I know. I’m almost ashamed of it now – the fact that ten seconds with a boy had driven my mission from my mind. But I did look at it, and I did remember who I was – why I was there – and I knew it was time to forget about boys and trash cans and cats named Suzie; I remembered what was real and what was legend.