Jace Einfeldt

A week after my baptism, I hit my little brother in the head with a tee-ball bat and sent my whole family into a frenzy on a Saturday afternoon in mid-March and got locked out of the family car and told to sit on the couch and think about what I did while my younger brother bled all over mom’s brand-new dishtowels in the middle seat of our 1998 emerald-green Yukon Denali.  As my family flew down the street on angel’s wings, I contemplated what I had done while picking at the beige, peeling leather couch in the living room…