Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It made me wonder a little bit if it was Cass leaving me these tapes. But how would she have copies of my uncle’s sermons? That didn’t make any sense. I had told her I’d be coming back to the tree to check for things, and she’d left me a note, that was all. I slid the tape and the note into my front overalls pocket and was about to head back to the house when George Urquhart stepped out of the woods. I tried to pretend like he hadn’t scared me.
“This is your favorite spot to spy on me, huh?” I said.
“Shit,” he said. “I seen you come out here, looking like you were on a mission. You pulled a tape out of that tree. Never seen somebody do something like that before.”
I clutched the pocket where the tape was hidden, pressed it close to my heart. He wasn’t getting this thing from me without a fight.
“Whoa there, boss,” said George. “I ain’t after your tapes now. I come to fetch you. Granny wants to see you. Don’t worry now, she won’t kill you or nothing. She just wants to talk.”
I wasn’t sure what to do. What did Jeremiah want me to do?
I felt a stirring in my heart then, just a little whisper. Go ahead. After all, you are a prophet of the Spirit. What can they do to you?
“Promise,” he said. “You’ll be safe. She’s only an old woman with some questions.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll come.”
And I followed George down the path that led off of my grandma’s land to where the Urquharts lived.
It took a while, the trail overgrown and winding, the trees thick and gnarled in this part of the woods. I realized for the first time just how massive the Farm really was, how deep the old western woods went. Eventually the trees broke and we came to a clearing with a gravel drive leading past it. Busted toys were tossed about the yard, and a rusty Ford pickup sat out front, flies buzzing around its open window. A row of ratty lawn chairs stuck up from a yard full of kudzu and weeds. A grill lay tumped over on its side, spent charcoal scattered on the grass. And in the midst of all that chaos, the Urquhart house rose like a tumor on the lot.