It's hard tae remember when ah realised it was gettin serious. Maisty the time things went on as normal. It wis comin up fur the summer and this would be ma last term at primary; ah'd be gaun tae the big school, as ma granny kept cryin it, efter the holidays. So we'd tae visit the new school and prepare fur the school show, and since this'd be oor last yin, Mrs Shields wis pullin oot all the stops. Ma ma wis dead busy too, buyin the new uniform and that, and ma granny had no been that well, so wi wan thin and anither, ah never really thought that much aboot ma daddy and his Buddhism. He startit gaun tae the Centre mair often, right enough. Thursdays as well as Tuesdays and sometimes even on a Saturday when his team were playin away. Then wan day while we were daein the dishes he reached up high and sumpn fell oot his pocket. Ah lifted them fae the flair. Beads. Big broon beads strung on a thick rope. Like rosaries but much bigger and no divided up. Ah held them oot and he pit them back in his pocket. 'Whit are they, Daddy?' He cairied on placin' the dishes carefully on the shelf as he spoke, 'Prayer beads, hen.' 'Rosaries?' 'Kind of. Ah suppose they're the Buddhist version.' 'Ah thought it wis just the meditation you done. Ah didnae know you prayed as well.' 'Sort of.' Ah was well confused noo. He never came tae the chapel wi us, said he didnae believe in God. 'Who do you pray tae, Daddy?' 'The only praying he does is that his horse'll come in at fifty tae wan.' Mammy came in with her coat on.