I hesitated, looking behind me to be sure Shad wasn’t listening.

“I’d like to meet those who believe in the old man’s GuideBook,” I whispered, “and his chasm, and his king.”

“All right,” Joshua said, “if you’re sure that’s what you want. I’ll take you to the loyal followers of the RoadGuide, and you can judge for yourself. But he will stay here. You’re tired, aren’t you, Shadrach?” he called to him.

Shad started to protest, but his eyes drooped and, despite the fact that we’d only been up for an hour, he lay down in some thick grass beside the road and curled up for a nap. “We’ll rejoin him later,” Joshua assured me.

As we walked, it grew dark. When we came close to a group camped by a narrow road, for a moment I thought I heard again the song of the stars to which my soul resonated as to a tuning fork. Then I realized what I heard was only words without the music.

Joshua took me to a leader surrounded by attentive followers and introduced me to him. I recognized him immediately. Pastor Hepishare. I hadn’t seen him since I was sixteen, and I’d hoped never to see him again. He looked just the same as I remembered him, stern and heavy jowled. He moved close to me but did not pollute himself by shaking my hand.

“We are believers in the great GuideBook and followers of the Chasm-crosser.”

He lifted a large book, which looked very much like the one carried by Shad, but bigger and stonelike.

“We have 613 rules: 248 commands and 365 prohibitions. We have explained these with 1,521 emendations so we can tell you exactly what you should and should not do.”

I stared blankly at him, assuming he didn’t recognize me and wishing it were mutual.

“So if I join you,” I said, “everything in my life will either be required or forbidden.”

“If you find something we have left off,” he said in a whiny voice, “bring it to our attention, and we will add it to the list of the forbidden or required or address it with another emendation.”

“Uh … thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Just before I turned away, I saw a wave of ripples across the front of his robe, which he patted down quickly.

I watched men standing with clipboards, with page after page of long lists. Some of them stood up on platforms and put megaphones to their mouths and shouted out their rules, and when someone else yelled out different rules, they shouted all the louder. All this brought back my worst childhood memories.

I thought of the old woman who slapped my hand in church because I giggled. One of many reasons why church was the last place I’d go if I were in trouble.