“What were you thinking? Going it alone?”
He closed his eyes, shook his head sadly. “There’s a huge fucking bomb in that van, Zack. I didn’t feel we could afford to wait to bring in the troops. If it hadn’t been for Bonnie Parker there—”
“I was thinking more along the lines of Ma Barker.”
“Yeah, even better. If it hadn’t been for her unexpected arrival, things might be a bit different now. How about you? You okay?”
I nodded.
“Man, you stink,” I heard Dougie say to Wendell.
“I fell in something fucking awful,” Wendell said.
Charlene said, “I’ll get the ice cream ready.” She left the barn.
Timmy stood on the other side of the gate that closed off our stall, which at some time must have been home to a horse or cow or two. It wasn’t like we were in a prison cell—the stall wasn’t locked and the gate would have taken a second to climb over. But it wasn’t the sort of thing you could do without being noticed.
“So,” Timmy said. “You boys put a bit of a wrinkle into things there for a while.”
I took a couple of steps his way, but once I was within three feet of him he waved the shotgun over the top of the gate. “You just stay there.”
I stayed there.
But from where I stood I could see into the back of the van. There were no seats in it but the two front ones, and a large blue plastic drum sat in the middle, on the floor. Atop it was a black plastic device, about the size of a shoebox, and some wires. Beside the van, on the barn floor, were several emptied fertilizer bags and three red plastic gas cans.
Timmy smiled. “I see you admiring my handiwork.”
I swallowed. “I don’t know a lot about explosives, but that looks big.”
“Well, not as huge as some. We’re not trying to bring down the Alfred P. Murrah, but it’ll do.”
Lawrence slowly got to his feet, came up alongside me. “Looks like you did a pretty good job of it,” he said. “Clean, simple.”
Timmy nodded. “Thanks.”
“How many people you figure you’ll end up killing?”
Timmy’s lips puckered while he thought about it. “Don’t really know. But that’s not important. What’s important is the message.”
“And what,” Lawrence asked, “would that message be?”
“That this country has to get back on the right track. That we have to stomp out immorality. That we have to put an end to state interference. That we have to keep this country pure, and good, and not turn it over to a bunch of special interests, that’s what the fucking message is, my friend.”
“Okay,” said Lawrence. “For a while there, I thought maybe you all were just a bunch of nuts. But now I understand.”
“Lawrence,” I whispered.
“I wouldn’t expect you to get it, anyway,” Timmy said to Lawrence. “You’re as much a part of the problem as anyone. I don’t know why you people don’t just hurry up and kill each other off, either with guns or with your addiction to drugs, and be done with it. If it wasn’t for good, decent folks getting caught in the crossfire, it wouldn’t matter so much, but sometimes you people take your battles outside your own neighborhoods and innocent people get killed.”
“Yeah,” said Lawrence. “We’re a bit thoughtless that way.”
“So blowing up a parade, that’ll get your message across,” I said.
“The parade, the town hall, and the faggot float,” Timmy said.
Lawrence grinned, and then the grin turned into a low-level chuckle.
“What?” Timmy asked. “What’s so funny?”
“You don’t even know, do you?” Lawrence asked.
“Know what?”
“Your so-called faggot float is a total joke. Four people carrying a banner. Three guys, one girl, and she’s not even lesbian. She’s faking it.”
Timmy looked dismayed. “Are you serious?”
“Yup. Hardly worth the trouble, when you think about it.”
“I’m sure you’re wrong about this,” he said. “I’m sure it’s going to be bigger than that. It said in the paper. It said at least a dozen.”
“Hey, you can’t believe what you read in the papers,” I said. I figured I should know better than anyone here.
Lawrence said, “We saw Lethbridge today. Stuart Lethbridge. He wanted the right to be in the parade, and he got it, but he ain’t got much to put in it.”
“What’s the problem, Timmy?” Dougie said, approaching.
“Never mind,” he said, dismissing him. “Well, shit, it doesn’t matter anyway. It doesn’t make any difference.”
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Because the thing is, the mayor gave them the go-ahead, and that’s the thing we’re making a statement about. Even if they pulled out altogether, it wouldn’t matter. And there’s all the other things, about her own lifestyle, marrying outside her race, letting people do whatever the hell they please. That’s what’s wrong with the world now, you know. Life’s just one big party. Do whatever you want, sleep with whoever you want, it doesn’t matter anymore.”