Sam puffed and his eyes sparked. “Oh, listen! He’s this fantastic old Zen saint. He lived a million years ago in China. He studied in a monastery for a while, but then he disappeared into the mountains and nobody knew what had become of him. Then, years later, he came to the monastery gates with a skinny little man who was deaf and dumb. Han Shan himself was big and fat. Well, he knocked at the gate and they asked him what he wanted. He just laughed and tore the gate down. He roared in and picked up bags of rice and salt and clothes and sandals, piled some on his little friend, and they ran out laughing and disappeared into the hills again. The monks couldn’t stop him. He was too strong. They’re pacifists, anyway.

“After that, Han Shan would appear at the monastery, break in no matter what precautions were taken, and raid the place. He never answered, no matter what anybody said to him. He just laughed very loudly. Went around giggling all the time. The monks decided he was crazy. He never took much and he didn’t hurt anybody, but I think it must have irritated them a lot. Still, they didn’t do much about it. Maybe the Chinese think madmen are touched by God, like the Indians do. Anyway, this went on for twenty years.

“Han Shan grew fatter and stronger as he got older, but nobody knew where he and his friend lived. Nobody ever saw them between raids. Then one year he didn’t come. The old master of the monastery sat waiting for the raid. Summer went, but still no Han Shan. The master waited two more years, but Han Shan never came again. The master got worried and sent all the monks and novices into the mountains to search. For months they found nothing. Then, one day, they came upon a tiny hut at the top of the tallest mountain in the whole country. The hut was falling apart. When the monks looked inside they found two skeletons seated, perfectly balanced in the lotus position, facing each other. One was the skeleton of a small frail man. The other was the skeleton of a huge man. On the walls were written hundreds of beautiful poems all signed by Han Shan. The monks carried the skeletons down to the monastery. They carefully dismantled the hut and carried it down. Even the roof beams had haiku carved on them. The old master studied the poems and discovered that Han Shan had been enlightened. From that day everyone knew that he had been a saint. Lichtenstein knew all about him. Lichtenstein knows a lot of things like that.”

The momentum of the story died on Sam’s lips.