Part 37 (1/2)
”I'LL BET you never imagined you were so enlightened.”
I'd no sooner come in the door than the phone rang. It was Brandon Nichols alias Herb Johnson alias Justin Cantwell. I half-expected this call. ”h.e.l.lo, Justin.”
He betrayed no reaction to my use of his third name. ”Did you talk with Pastor Dale?”
I sat on the couch, smiling at his question. ”Pastor Dale was unavailable.”
”Oh really?”
”I talked to Miles Newberry.”
He laughed. ”Ah, good old Miles. A man you can talk to for hours and never really meet.”
I had to laugh. ”That was the feeling I got.” I quickly added, ”But he says you were trouble, Justin.”
”I was. They all came within a fraction of an inch of being embarra.s.sed. As the saying goes, I wish I'd had a camera. But did you notice, Travis? There's something different about you. You've grown. The old game hasn't changed, but you have.”
I suppressed a little chuckle. He was right. ”I used to buy everything that guy said.”
”And you did what he told you to do.”
”Oh yes.”
”And you felt guilty whenever he said so.”
”Oh yeah.”
”And any misgivings were your fault, every time.”
”Yep.”
”And this time he tried to scare you . . . but you didn't scare.
Why is that?”
”I've been trying to figure out why.”
”You weren't born yesterday, that's why. Time's gone by, water's flowed under the bridge. Their game only works on certain people and you don't fit the profile anymore.”
”I think that's a good thing.”
”Oh, it's good, Travis.”
”Sometimes it can feel pretty miserable.”
”I'm not worried. Day by day I can see you coming around. The more you try to find out about me, the more you discover about yourself. It's just like I've always told you, we're very much the same. Of course, you didn't find out much, did you-about me, that is?”
”Miles gave me another name for you. That's number three now.”
”But you don't know if that's the right one, either. How much time are you willing to waste tracking it down?”
”I don't know. I think it would help greatly if you'd stop the charade and just tell me who you are.”
”Stop the charade?” He laughed a spiteful laugh. ”And be the first man of G.o.d on the face of the earth to do so?”
”Hey, c'mon now, you know that's not fair.”
”No malice intended, Travis. That's just the way it is. Ministers are supposed to have their lives together and be an example. They're supposed to have all the answers. Well, they don't, so they pretend because they have to.”
”Some of them get sick of pretending.”
”And I commend you.” His voice turned bitter. ”But some of them love pretending. It gives them a rush to think of all the people they're fooling.” Suddenly he mimicked the tone of a fiery, southern preacher. ”You are a sinnuh, saved by grice! Come to Geee-sus and you shall be clean-then follow me, 'cause I make the rules!”
”Salvation by grace. Christianity by performance.”
”You have been there! Travis. Move on. Let it go. You've grown since the Cathedral. You can keep growing. I still have a place for you.”
”Hm. Get out of one charade so I can join the biggest charade of all? I'll have to think about that one.”
”I'm not worried.”
”And I'm sure you have nothing more to say to me about yourself.”
”Not today.”
”Good-bye, then.”
NANCY BARRONS sat at her desk in the back of the Antioch Harvester and Office Supply, listening to hold music on her telephone.
It was usually this way whenever she called the county Health Department.
Finally, ”This is Pete Jameson.”
”Hi, Pete. This is Nancy Barrons.”
”Oh, hi, Nancy. What's up?”
”I've got some questions about that water project up at the Macon ranch. You inspected that, didn't you?”
”Uh, yeah. Let's see, that was an upgrade, wasn't it? A new storage tank and three pressure tanks.”
”What about the water source?”
”Uh, that was a private well.”
”And?”