The sisters baptized their hamster in the sink. The smaller one cupped him in her hands, and her sister dotted his forehead with water three times, then crossed him. Sometimes, the younger sister would shake his water bottle over him until three drops came out, just to make sure. She taped Bible verses to his cage, facing inward. She sang him the songs she learned from Sunday school about Noah and Moses. She wondered if there were hamsters on the ark, or in the pockets of the Hebrews as they marched through the parted Red Sea. She planned to save her hamster by floating him in a wicker basket if the river ever flooded their house.
She found him dead, stiff in his bedding. Her mother placed his body in a check box, and they buried him in the backyard beneath the pine tree. The younger sister lay with her ear to the dirt, listening for his soul rising up. Her sister called her in when it started to rain, but she ran to the river instead, watching it rise and rise.
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