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Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Also by Silas House
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Contents
  7. Part One
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. Part Two
  27. 1
  28. 2
  29. 3
  30. 4
  31. 5
  32. 6
  33. 7
  34. 8
  35. 9
  36. 10
  37. Part Three
  38. 1
  39. 2
  40. 3
  41. 4
  42. 5
  43. 6
  44. 7
  45. 8
  46. 9
  47. 10
  48. 11
  49. 12
  50. 13
  51. 14
  52. 15
  53. 16
  54. 17
  55. 18
  56. 19
  57. 20
  58. 21
  59. 22
  60. 23
  61. 24
  62. 25
  63. 26
  64. 27
  65. 28
  66. 29
  67. 30
  68. 31
  69. Part Four
  70. 1
  71. 2
  72. 3
  73. Epilogue: The Everything
  74. Acknowledgments
  75. About the Author
  76. About Algonquin
  77. Copyright

Justin fixed his eyes on the highway. “We should have helped him.”

He didn’t speak to Asher down the entire length of Georgia. Instead, he turned his face to the passenger window and watched the pinewoods and pastures pass by. Churches and homes and cows. But mostly the signs alongside the Georgia highway:

just ahead: boiled p-nuts

ripe ga grown water meluns

this flag is heritage, not hate

g

e

t

right with

g

o

d

ice-cold watermelons 5$

jam jelly molasses

god hates fags

best peaches 4 miles

7

7

Asher sat by the window, watching the trees. There were thirsty-looking pines and short little palm trees, and the parking lot blacktop was covered with a thin layer of sand that had blown in during some time when there was actually a breeze moving around. The trees were completely still in a way that they never were back home in Tennessee and not a single bird he could see. Maybe they were way back in the deepest parts of the woods where the pine shade was cool and fragrant, a better place for winged things than out by the treeless interstate where it was nothing but rotting motels and truck stops.

They were in a motel near the Florida – Georgia border. Asher had driven more than eight hours before he started falling asleep. He had coasted into the Shady Oaks Motel, gotten a room and had dived into a hard sleep after making Justin swear to not leave. He had fallen asleep to the sound of his son watching the television but now was awake after only a couple of hours. Justin’s small snores were singing across the room to him.

At least the room offered those two hours of sleep. There was a rust stain on the floor around the toilet and the bar of soap was thin as a Hershey bar and smelled like funeral flowers. The towels were like sandpaper. He was pretty sure there was dried vomit on the carpet in the corner. Justin had said the remote felt sticky.

“It’s perfect that the word ‘shady’ is in the motel name,” Justin had said.

“Why’s that?”

“This is the shadiest hellhole I’ve ever seen,” Justin said.

Asher started to tell him to watch his mouth, that little boys weren’t to handle language like that, but that was just an old habit that didn’t even make sense to Asher anymore. Besides, Justin was right.

He had clicked off the television and now he sat on the air conditioner at the window.