Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
This is what we want to hear. Me more than most, I suspect. We want to hear that we’re doing it right. That we’re not missing out on anything out there in the wild, wide world. That home is Trinity County, and Trinity County is where we belong.
I didn’t come back on my own accord. And if I hadn’t been forced by Hattie and her sneaky plan to trap Riggs, I might never have come back. Sure, I was renovating my childhood home to turn into a wedding venue, but it wasn’t a priority. If it had been, the place would’ve been finished years ago.
“I think about my father,” Collin continues, “every time I hear the call to Revival. Because these words meant something to him. And they mean something to you all, too. Because why would they be the call to Revival in the first place if they didn’t?”
We all nod. Because those words are special.
“Each part of the call has meaning. ‘Behind the rumble comes the glory’ is about stickin’ it out. ‘The echo on the water’ is all the things behind you. All the things that make you you. But the part I think about most these days is ‘the comfort in the brave.’ Because that’s who we are.”
He pauses here to point to us, then himself.
“We are the brave. But not because we do heroic things. We’re the brave because we have each other. And that’s all we need. It is the ‘we’ that gives us comfort.”
There is a lot of murmuring here. A lot of agreeing.
“And this is what I want to tell you today.” Collin looks over at the casket holding Ike Monroe’s remains. He points to it and my heart flutters because there’s a second here where I think he might say something mean about Ike. Who would deserve it, one hundred percent, but not in this moment.
But Collin doesn’t say something mean. He says, “Ike Monroe was one of us. Even though we didn’t know it until after he was dead. And that needs to change. We need to know each other. We need to trust each other. Because the world doesn’t like people like us. And I’m not talking about weird hill people who play pretend for profit. I’m talking about people who stick together. And the reason the world doesn’t like us is because out there”—he points down the sawdust aisle at the open flap of the tent—“out there is the damage. Out there is the danger. Out there they are nothing but angry liars. In here is where we find grace.”
We all let that breath out. Everyone looks around, whispering the same question. “Did he just rewrite the call to Revival?”
He did.
Because of course he did.
We are the brave and it is our commitment to each other that brings us comfort.
“From now on, it’s all about us.” Collin points to the left side of the Revival tent and his finger sweeps across the crowd. “Us. Everyone in Trinity County—above and below—is one of us. And everyone else…” He stops here and stares at the crowd for dramatic effect. “Everyone else,” he says again, “is them. It’s always been a coalition. Revenant depends on Disciple, Disciple depends on Bishop, Bishop depends on Revenant and all the dependence comes right back around the other way in a giant circle. We are the righteous. We are the brave. We are each other’s comfort. May the circle be unbroken and may Ike Monroe rest in peace.”
And then, like he really is the preacher, we all say, “Amen.”
“Well,” Riggs says as we make our way out of the tent after Ike’s people, who are carrying his coffin, “that was some sermon.”
“Oh, that wasn’t a sermon. Collin Creed doesn’t give sermons. That was a promise.”
Riggs laughs a little. “Yeah, it sure was. And I feel like I slipped through that tent flap just in the nick of time. Because what I took home from that speech was that he is kinda pissed. Did I read it right?”
I just smile at Riggs, but don’t answer him. We are entering the boneyard now. It’s behind the tent and butts up against the private park along the river. Ike’s big buckskin horse is waiting in here, like he knew Ike was coming. Lowyn’s backyard is far too small to keep a horse in grass, so I brought him over here a few days ago. There’s no gate that connects the boneyard to the park, so he must’ve jumped the fence. Which was never intended to keep giant stallions out, so it probably wasn’t that hard.