It was the day
after the third reunion concert. I knew the schedule because Pastor Rocky tried
to stay on top of things, to have us praying for his former friends. He had a
bad feeling about the whole situation, how the whole concert came together, the
nastiness of the Lavaheads, and especially how the organizers for the tour had
found him. How difficult was it to get through three false identities to track
someone down?
Sherwood
contacted me at work. It was a Tuesday, paper delivery day, and I had just
gotten to my desk. My computer screen lit up with his face on it. Pretty neat
trick, since I hadn't turned on my computer yet. The little light in the camera
lit up and he looked around the office before speaking. Which was a relief,
because I was bent down to pick up a pack of flag stickers I had knocked onto
the floor and didn't see him watching me for a few seconds.
"Lanie,
Pastor Rocky is going to need you," Sherwood said. "Right away. I
have bad news to give him."
"What kind
of bad news?" Honestly, my first thought was that Stephen Grandstone was
on his way to the church with a car loaded with Magna Magma memorabilia and a
couple machine guns.
"According
to the news, Pastor Rocky should be dead."
"What?" Somehow, I managed not to shriek that word.
"Just go. I'll tell you in the car. Father Marty is reading the news on his computer right now, and we want Pastor Rocky to know before he tells him."
"Okay, I'm going." I turned my wheelchair away from my desk, and nearly forgot to grab my backpack, which I had slung onto my desk to unload it. Kind of needed my backpack, because it had my keys.
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