A note from the publisher: I met Wayne Stier when I was 5 and he was 6. We grew up in the same town, both of us suspecting there must be more in the world. The first time I published his work was in our high school newspaper. The last time I saw him until a few weeks before he died he was telling me that the pop (soda) in my hand might exist in another plane in a different way or might not exist at all. The very last time I saw him we talked all night and planned at least three more books. I am beyond grateful to have met him. Saint, holy man, fool—all of those and more.