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“You ready?” Jericho asked Ling.
“No.”
“Good. Me, neither.”
Ling and Jericho boarded the Atchison & Topeka headed to Gideon. Whatever was waiting for them there, they’d meet it head-on.
GIDEON
Gideon, Kansas, was a small, pleasant-enough-seeming spot on the western edge of the state. Down the long stretch of Main Street, there were the usual suspects: A hardware store. A barbershop. A cafeteria with gold lettering on its windows advertising that it served BREAKFAST, LUNCH, AND SUPPER, and a garage with two round-topped gasoline pumps out front alongside a pillar of stacked tires. In front of the bank, the Stars and Stripes fluttered at the top of a flagpole. A row of houses with deep front porches so much the better for sitting out on a fine summer’s evening with a pitcher of lemonade shared among neighbors while children ran up and down the street after fireflies with mason jars. And in front of those houses were the rows of telephone poles to keep people connected. Birds hopped along the wires, curious about what was going on down below. At the end of the block sat a white-steepled Presbyterian church with a sign out front listing the worship time: Sunday morning, ten o’clock. And at the other end sat a small train depot bordering railroad tracks that disappeared into the distance on either end. It was the sort of town, Henry thought, that appeared on postcards representing America.
They had parked the roadster pickup on a side street where the three of them watched the citizens of Gideon through the dirty windshield.
“Seems friendly enough,” Memphis said, nervous.
“Sur
e. Friendly town. Friendly people. Friendly crosses burning in the night,” Henry said under his breath.
Bill opened the door. “Come on. Let’s see if the others made it.”
The citizens of Gideon seemed fairly ordinary. They shopped and stopped in for a shave at the barbershop or visited the bank teller. And if they glanced toward the newcomers in their midst, it was momentary. They had stories in their heads, and they went about their business.
“Why did Mabel tell us to come here?” Henry said.
“Beats me,” Memphis answered.
Henry slowed, squinted, then grinned. “Hey!” he shouted, waving. He nudged Memphis and Bill. “Look!”
Just ahead, in front of Frederickson Masonry Store, stood Theta, Evie, Sam, and Isaiah, looking just as lost.
“Isaiah,” Memphis said, choked up. Then: “Isaiah! Isaiah!”
Memphis was running toward his brother as fast as he could and narrowly missed being hit by an auto motoring down the street. Memphis scooped his brother up in his arms. When he saw Theta coming up behind Isaiah, he wished he could do the same with her, but he didn’t dare out here on a street in western Kansas. He looked into her eyes, and she returned the gaze of affection.
“Hey, Poet.”
“Princess,” he said.
And if it could be said that two people could embrace inside a gaze, then it was true for them. Henry kissed Theta’s cheek and she kissed his and then they were hugging, the unlikely brother-sister act.
Isaiah talked a mile a minute, trying to tell Memphis the entirety of his journey out on the sidewalk of Gideon. “…and they had lions, Memphis, real lions, and I got to feed ’em. Me. I did it. Well, with a li’l help from Arnold.…”
Memphis held his brother close and didn’t let him go, wouldn’t let him go ever again.
“See, I told you they’d meet us here.” Ling’s voice, reprimanding Jericho. They were down at the bottom of the street, just up from Gideon’s train depot.
Evie waved her arm like a window washer. “Ling! Jericho! Over here!”
“Baby Vamp, we gotta work on your quiet voice,” Sam said, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking down at his shoes. “What happened to ‘let’s not call attention to ourselves’?”
“You made it,” Evie said as Jericho and Ling drew near. “Oh, I’ve missed you both. Hello, Jericho!”
“Hello, Evie. You changed your hair.”
“Yes,” she laughed, running a hand through it.
Henry barged in and dropped his boater hat on Ling’s head. “Take it off,” she said.
