Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I can only presume the security tent is still here, but now it’s inside the mother tent.
“How the hell did they get this done overnight?” I’m not really talking to anyone in particular, and my words are barely more than a whispered mumble, but Nash answers me.
“There’s some kind of mechanical framework attached to the boardwalk buildings on either side of the Revival tent. I was talking to some old fart yesterday named Joseph. We were just shootin’ the shit about the weather and he started telling me about how they could put a roof over the whole park with a push of a button.”
The town clerk. A quarryman. A jewelry maker. A diesel mechanic. The chief of police. And a real estate agent. Joseph is the quarryman. Probably the only guy in town who owns a crane, so I guess it makes sense to give him a nice profit share when you’re lookin’ to build a five-acre roof made out of canvas.
There’s even a little makeshift garage for Old Man Hunt’s Rolls Royce. And that’s right where Amon parks it.
“It’s pretty cool,” Ryan says. “It reminds me of a circus, but an old-timey one. Something you’d see in the movies. I can’t believe we live here now. I fuckin’ love this place. It’s all hilly, and green, and that river sounds like it wants to kill you every moment of the day. Just roaring by, non-stop, twenty-four seven. I love it.”
“At least we’re not gonna get our new fancy clothes wet,” Nash calls, already out of the car and walking towards the tunnel gate. Ryan follows.
And I do have to admit, he’s not wrong. The tent is kinda blowing my mind in this moment.
Amon turns the engine off and looks at me. “It is openin’ fuckin’ day, Collin. Are you ready for this shit?”
“Shut up.”
He pretends to punch me in the arm. “Enjoy it, Sarge. You’re only ever gonna get this day once.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m supposed to let you know that yesterday was your practice run. Jim Bob wanted to see how you’d react. It was predictable.”
“What?”
“Yeah. They just wanted to light you up. You did not disappoint.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because they want you to play along, Collin. And they needed you to get it out of your system yesterday so you would not fuck up today.”
“I’m not acting in this stupid show. I was hired to run security and that’s all I’m doing. They can fuck right off about this whole prodigal son thing.”
“Well, see… they knew this about you, Col. So today, and for weeks to come, actually, the whole story is just you and Lowyn falling in love. Today is the day you meet her for the first time.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“You’re gonna bump into her, and have a little moment with locked eyes or something. And you’re gonna have some coffee, and sit next to each other during the Revival, and then have a little lunch, and dance. Hold hands and shit.”
“You’re one of them, aren’t ya?”
He laughs.
“They got to you. They took my friend, Amon, sucked out his brain and all his common sense, and put some alien thing back inside his head. I’m gonna go to my gate and stand there until this day is over. Then I’m gonna go home and enjoy a spiral ham with a couple of sides because Lowyn has promised to rustle that up for me. That’s what I’m gonna do.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “We’ll see, friend. We’ll see. Because everyone in this town has been instructed to go out of their way to make it special for the two of you. So. I would not have high expectations for the highlight of your Easter Sunday being a spiral ham and a couple of sides.”
Then he gets out of the car and walks into the tent.
I sit there for another moment, but in that same moment there’s a flash of lightning and, a moment later, the crack of thunder.
The rumble and the glory.
That’s what my daddy used to call thunderstorms when I was a kid. They used to scare me and he would come into my room at night and recite that passage from his book of sermons. ‘When you look upon the hills, the sun shining on the peaks, and you hear the rumble in the distance, don’t you ever forget that behind it comes the glory.’
We used to say it together. Every time it stormed.
I don’t know when I grew out of that. Maybe seven or eight. But even so, every time there was a crack of thunder, we’d stop what we were doing and say that little passage.
Shit, I’ve caught myself reciting that passage all over the world when I hear the thunder.
I let out a long sigh. Because I kinda miss that man. I miss the father he used to be. I miss how he used to look at me before I killed that fuckin’ kidnapper. Like he was proud of me. Like he loved me.