Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
The main one being a preacher man called Justin. He named the town Disciple because that’s what he called his followers and the town was built for them.
Here’s the most ironic thing about current-day Disciple, West Virginia—there’s not a single church in this place. That preacher did everything out of a tent. A real fire-and-brimstone show every frickin’ Sunday complete with holy water, miracles, and promises of Hell.
I’ve got reels of him somewhere around here.
The Revival. That’s what the show was called back in the day and that’s what it’s still called now because the Revival show still happens in the field just south of Jerry’s Hardware store. Simon West is the preacher these days and everyone in the town—including me, including Rosie, including Bryn—plays a part in the show that gets put on.
Because that’s what the Revival is—a show.
We might all have a special relationship with God here in Disciple, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make a dollar off it at the same time. Or… ten, as it is. Inflation and all that.
Anyway, church or no church, believers, or not, living in Disciple comes with expectations because we gotta live up to the hype. The Revival is what keeps us going. And, if I’m being honest, the Revival is how McBooms first got noticed. The whole reason Jet Shadows was in Disciple in the first place was to attend a revival. The fact that he wandered down the street and into McBooms was… well, the hand of God, I suppose.
Rosie is the only single mother within a five-mile radius. And I’m not saying that teenage girls from Disciple are any better than teenage girls from anywhere else—it’s just the rest of them had the good sense to leave town limits once the baby bump started showing.
Rosie rode it out though. Hung in there. She said, to anyone who scowled at her that year, “I was born in Disciple and I’ll die in Disciple. So you people had best just get over it.”
And… they did, I guess. She’s been working three jobs to support Cross for as long as I can remember and no one really much cares where the kid came from. He’s a town treasure. Everyone loves Cross, even if they do think his mama is goin’ to some kind of hell for it.
Rosie fills in for me at McBooms when I go out picking. And she’s in charge of the books. Not the accounts, I like to do those myself, but the catalog books. Everything in this store is meticulously photographed, listed, and filed in the appropriate reference binder. I have binders going back to the day this place opened.
I get a lot of online sales. I mean, who the hell has time to make a trip to the hills of West Virginia to hunt down retro décor? They come for the Revival, yes, and I do get a fair amount of foot traffic on the weekends, but nothing like I do online.
Everything I sell is on the website. And I buy a lot of things online too. But that’s not sustainable. Not if I want to make a profit. So every second week of the month I pack up my truck and my trailer and I go picking around Appalachia and the surrounding states, usually returning on Thursday night. Sometime I drive a whole day to get somewhere, then stay the night, pick around the towns, and spend the last day driving home. One week a month I have a wandering sort of lifestyle and I like it.
Love it, actually. My life is filled with cherished heirlooms, undiscovered treasures, and fun. I really don’t do drama. I hate it, in fact. So I’m all kinds of out of sorts today.
“I ran into him at the Rise & Shine this morning.”
Shit, my mind wandered. “Who are we talking about again?”
“Amon!” Rosie giggles, her back to me now because she’s flipping through the pile of mail that I stack on the far side of the counter. I never read mail.
“Oh, right. What did he say?”
“You know.” She’s still got her back to me. “How Collin found you at the Pineapple Pub and drove you home.” She turns to face me now, her lips all pouty. “Did he see… the room?”
“We woke up in the bed, Rosie.”
“Together!”
“Together.”
She covers her mouth with one hand and presses the other against her heart. “What did you say? I mean, how did you explain that?”
“Well…” I sigh and look out the window again. “I didn’t. Bryn lied for me. She told him it was… some kind of showroom and everything was for sale on the website.”
Rosie practically snorts. Then she points to my computer. “Is that what you’re doing? Putting it all online?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, my God. Did he believe her?”
“I don’t know. She just yelled at him and got back in the car and we drove away.”