the merge from the turnpike was murder but it s never a cinch it was friday at five and no one was giving an inch they squeezed and they edged and they glared half them clearly impaired by rage or exhaustion the rest were just touchy as hell somewhere near paterson everything slowed to a crawl the all news station was thanking someone for the call it s a van from st agnes s choir there s a nun out there changing a tire by the time they got by her tempers were out of control so they all hit the gas in a dash for position bobbing and weaving and flashing their high beams flipping the bird and screaming obscenities a murderous hoard hell bent on saturday and so they continued west bound and into the sun law and decorum constraining nary a one by then it was devil may care not one even vaguely aware that they had come all the way to the delaware water gap but how had it happened they had all missed their exits how had it happened was it some kind of vortex and in they all went bumper to bumper faster and faster no sign of a trooper in they all went like sheep to the slaughter bankers and carpenters doctors and lawyers in they all went families in minivans democrats republicans weekend militiamen they followed the river and rounded the bend between minsi and tammany and into their destiny lying in ambush right their before them the angry old sun right on the horizon sister maria tightened the bolts of the spare she said a quick prayer and put the old van into gear thank god that the traffic was light if she hurried she might not be late for that evening s performance at the state penitentiary she entered the common room and there was her choir altos and baritones basses and tenors car thieves and crack dealers mobsters and murderers husbands and sons fathers and brothers and so it began in glorious harmony softly and tenderly calling for you and me with the interstate whining way off in the distance and the sun going down through the bars of the prison they poured out their souls they poured out their memories they poured out their hopes for what s left of eternity to sister maria her soul like a prism for the light of forgiveness on all of their faces