Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“So we just let it go? We just let him come up here and do secret shit on our fuckin’ land and pretend it’s not happening?”
“I didn’t say that,” Collin says. “I’ll talk to Ryan and see if we can get some equipment up here. We’ll get that door open, but it’s not happening today, Amon.”
“It goes to Blackberry Hill, doesn’t it?”
“Probably.”
I let out a breath. “Should we call General Forbe?”
Collin considers this, then shakes his head. “Nah. It’s really none of his business what we do up here, is it?”
“It’s not,” I agree.
“So fuck him. And fuck Charlie. I’m tired of this shit. We bought this land to get away from them and now it’s starting to feel like we’re just digging ourselves in deeper.”
Part of me feels guilty about this because I was the one who showed Collin the compound back when we were looking for real estate—on the suggestion of Charlie Beaufort, I realize. But I was so excited about coming home, I didn’t really question Charlie’s motives. It was a serious mistake, but it can’t be undone now. We’re here. And we’re staying here.
So I just sigh. “Yeah. It does feel that way.”
The next morning it’s raining buckets so there is no chance of doing anything out at the mine, and it’s Friday, so the guys only have half a day of dog testing before they are released for the weekend. I do my part in the testing—which takes place in the big outbuilding when the weather’s bad—and then turn my attention to more intriguing things.
The continuation of my courtship of Rosie Harlow.
This involves a ride down into Disciple and an unscheduled meeting with Jim Bob Baptist. Ester Adkins, Rosie’s great-aunt, is typing away on her keyboard when I enter the little stone building that acts as the government office of Disciple.
“You wipe those muddy feet, Amon Parrish.” Ester says this without even looking up from her computer tasks. “I am not a maid and I do not do floors.”
I chuckle. Some things never change. But I do wipe my feet before I approach her desk.
“Can I help you with something, Amon?” Ester doesn’t look at me. Just keeps going about her business.
“Does Jim Bob have a minute? I need a favor.”
Ester stops typing and then tilts her head down so she can look up at me from over the top of her glasses. “Is this Revival business? Because it’s Friday, Amon. And we only do Revival business on Fridays.”
Ester will tell you this no matter what day you walk in, but it’s fine. Because it actually is Revival business. “It is, Ester. It is.”
“Well, go on in then.” And she nods her head towards the thick, maple double doors that lead to Jim Bob’s office.
So that’s what I do and on the other side of those doors I find a contemplative Jim Bob standing in front of the large window behind his desk with his back to me. Jim Bob is a big man. Big as in muscular and imposingly tall, not heavy with extra weight. I suspect he had his share of traveling when he was my age because there’s a picture of him all dressed up in military police uniform sittin’ on his desk.
It’s not facing out, so I suspect most people don’t even know it’s there. And hell, maybe it isn’t no more. But I was in this office nearly every week when I was a teenager and at least a dozen of those times I was alone because Jim Bob was busy elsewhere. So I would sit in his desk and poke through it like the heathen criminal I was wont to be and I always paused to reconsider our mayor when I looked at that picture of him.
In fact, that picture might actually be where I got the idea to join the marines.
I walk up to the desk and clear my throat. I have not talked to Jim Bob since that whole fiasco up on Blackberry Hill when Collin chewed his ass out on the helicopter ride home. So I’m maybe a little bit nervous. “Jim Bob? Can I have a moment?”
He turns his head, but his massive body stays where it is. “Amon. What can I do for you?”
I look out the window to see what’s got him so pensive. It’s a nice view of the Revival tent up on the hill. Since it’s raining, all the scaffolding is up and there are white lights shining dimly against the contrast of the sky, which makes the whole thing appear very fairy-like since the sky is dark purple and gray, covered in thunderheads. “Well, I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”
Jim Bob turns, smiling. Which surprises me because I thought he might be a little put out about this favor. He waves a hand at the chair behind me, then takes a seat behind his desk, making the old leather chair creak from his weight. “Have a seat, Amon. Would you like a cigar?”