“Right. Yet its Holy Spectres keep haunting you.”
“I’ll fucking say. You know, not all family relationships are peaceful and perfect. But in our fucking Liberty Temple, we came close to it. There was never any fighting. No backstabbing, no petty larceny.” I even chuckled. “We really, seriously worked as a team all for the common good, like some kind of McDonald’s fucking team of workers, or how a conglomerate wishes their employees were.”
Oaklyn sighed deeply. “I just always wondered what kind of God punishes children for their vicious, immoral ancestors. It sure seems like you guys keep getting kicked upside the head over and over again.”
“Feeling sorry for ourselves is the last thing I ever encouraged. But it sure does seem like you’re right. Let’s face it. We put ourselves in harm’s way by coming back to this place. We could’ve stayed away, stayed in Bountiful. Instead we’re getting mixed up in these perverted mens’ twisted religion.”
She shrugged. “A person’s religion is just the values he displays in his actions. How we act always revolves around a goal or a grouping of desires, even if we don’t recognize them. But our core values regarding our inner relations with our own magical universe, what our goals are there, our predestination there—that’s a person’s religion, Levon.”
It sounded profound and meaningful. I found myself agreeing with her. “The fundies are all hypocrites. The only religious practice is to serve others. Action speaks louder than words. A life of service demonstrates what we believe in our innermost core. That our hearts are in sync with others, that we feel the suffering of others and try to lift it.”
“Oh, yes. At Liberty Temple you sought to relieve—”
Almost before the words were out of her mouth, Oaklyn clapped a hand over it. It was all right. I was used to that shit. I’d heard words like that tumble from the mouths of the most surprising people, people I thought were open-minded, were liberal about our line of work. I patted her on the arm. It was just her former self talking, the stern, unforgiving Oaklyn I’d met in Bountiful.
“We built a temple right where we discovered ourselves assembled. We didn’t go searching around for a holy place. We built a temple in my house, just like we’re resurrecting a new temple in Avalanche. To be holy you don’t have to pray every day or have a direct line to a god. It’s the little things, Oaklyn, the tiny gestures of tenderness and respect, and Deloy has that in spades. He has the devotion that comes with admiration and friendship with me and the other Lost Boys.”
“I know,” Oaklyn said wistfully. “I can’t think of anything bad to say about that boy. I feel protective of him, like a mother.”
I was surprised. Oaklyn was only about ten years older than Deloy. “You like children?”
“Sure. I just never found anyone worth marrying, much less having children with. You like children?”
“Sure. I just never found myself in a position where I’d want to marry anyone.” I left it ambiguous like that just to torment Oaklyn for her crack about Liberty Temple. I went back to scanning the valley floor with the binocs, but all I saw were leather vests and women—women in leather vests.
“I deserve that,” she sighed.
There was a ruckus down by the river. Men milled and swarmed like an anthill, so I stood. “They must’ve found something.”
“Not Deloy.”
I went down the cliff first, holding Oaklyn’s hand so she could pick her way carefully among the boulders and rocks. Our boots made sandstone waterfalls that cascaded down to the next level of the almost nonexistent trail, making it doubly hard to walk once we got down there. It seemed to take us forever, and I texted Dingo.
LEVON: What’s the commotion?
DINGO: Someone found something belonging to Deloy.
I groaned inwardly. That did not bode well. It sounded like he’d been snatched.
We got onto solid ground and ran toward the knot of men conglomerated by the video cameras, where the drum set stood abandoned. Gideon was the first brother I ran into.
“What’d they find?” I asked.
Gideon pointed to the Bare Bones’ lead singer, Russ Gollywow, still clad in his powder blue suit like he was going to a senior prom. He was unshaven though, and he raked his hand through his blond hair while waving a pamphlet around.
I wasted no time grabbing it out of Gollywow’s hand. My eyes scanned it as I listened to Gollywow’s explanation.
Dental Essentials offers an exciting, thorough and cutting-edge approach to learning the art and science of Dental Assisting.
“This is a brochure from his dental school,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Russ, “and I found it about a quarter mile up the road.”
“On the shoulder?”