Family reunion of sorts.  The kind that pulls distant cousin into each other’s orbit.  We’re a long way from summer.  A long way from fried chicken in a bucket in a park.  A long way from a family tree in the corner connecting the vague lines between people.  It’s November.  Long after dark.  The long dark of a junior high school hall.  Two boys and a janitor are about to learn a white plastic grocery sack and a light bulb are distant cousins, once removed.