Jo Candles was a very special person. Jo Candles lights the way. Stepping out of the truck on the corner of Temple and Church, not a single house of religion in sight, Jo felt that flush of exuberance one gets when overcoming the steep wall. The in-your-face-ripper, the almighty strokes of hand, modeling a person as if clay.

We don’t know if Jo is man or woman, girl or boy, human or not. Most reckon Jo is female because Jo doesn’t smell like a man. Plain dressed: Typically you will see Jo in a t-shirt, jeans, boots and a neckerchief about. A clothe covering on the head. A radiance at times can be caught in the corner of your eye when you don’t directly look at Jo, almost like a silent secret. A blindingly white shimmer that catches one off guard, makes one jump. We do know Jo was born here in Blue Blazes or that’s what folk say when conversation turns to Jo Candles. Missus Chatmere insists Jo’s mother was a sweet lady given to coughing fits and soon died after Jo’s birth, but none have seen record nor certificate in the town’s file.

“Thank you Jo,” said Jenny sitting crossed legged on the stoop of an older, but kempt house a few steps from the street.

“Seeing the light is the light,” said Jo Candles. “I brought you a meat pie with plenty of lard in the crust and filling. It’s one of my best!” Jo smiled.

“I do love meat pie!” said Jenny
“I know you do Jenny, that’s why I made one for you.”
“I might give half to Henry.”
“That sounds like a grand idea Jenny!” Jo’s face twinkled.
“Make sure you get it over to Henry soon Jenny, you know sundown is early this time of year,” Jo said.
“Obliged to you Jo, thanks again.”
“If you see Henry, Jenny, tell him I wanna see him too sometime. It’s been weeks and every time I go to his place no ones there,” Jo said.
“I’ll let him know.”

Jo smiled and waved at Jenny and got back into the truck. The long angles of the sun already cast shadows of the truck across the street and onto the house across from it.