The Rumble and the Glory (Sacred Trinity #1)

Chapter 19 - Lowyn

“Iwas in Japan about four years ago.”

“What were you doing there?” I ask him.

“I was watching people. And guarding one in particular. It was Chinese New Year, and they have this incredible lantern festival in Nagasaki. For me, just a guy from West Virginia, it was chaos. And loud. And bright.” He pauses to smile here. “Maybe you don’t know this, but lantern festivals tend to have a lot of light.”

“Is that where they send balloons up with candles in them, or something?”

“Yeah, kinda like that. But they’re not balloons. The ones that float up are lanterns. The hot air inside them is what makes them do that. But they’ve got more than just lanterns at these festivals. Not just that shape, I mean. Some were in the shape of giant animals, and people, and some floated on the water. It was just really cool.”

“I wish I could’ve been there.”

He sighs. “It would’ve been way different if you were.”

“How so?”

“Well, I would’ve enjoyed it more, of course. The whole thing was kind of annoying from a security standpoint.”

“Were you guarding someone special?”

“A minister of state’s six-year-old daughter.”

I picture this and smile. “Was she a handful?”

“I am embarrassed to admit that she got away from me twice that night.”

“Oh, no!”

“She was that kind of kid. Always up to something. I actually lost her for about twenty-five minutes the second time. I found her curled up with a kitten in a pachinko arcade.” I laugh, but he lets out a long sigh. “She got me fired. I had been working that job, protectin’ that damn kid for six months. And what she did that night got me fired.”

I tsk my tongue.

“But the funny part of this story is that two years ago she wrote me a letter apologizing for being bad and she invited me to her birthday party in Paris.”

“Did you go?”

“I couldn’t. The congressional hearings were just getting started.”

“Did you ever talk to her again?”

He nods, but stays silent for a moment. “Her father was assassinated about a year later and by that time the hearings were over, we had been cleared, and so I saw her at the funeral in Tokyo.”

“Why was he killed?”

“You know. Same old thing. Too many good ideas.”

“Hmm. That’s a very cynical answer, Collin.”

“The world deserves my cynicism.”

“I’ll take your word on that. I don’t get out much.”

“You travel all the time.”

“But I meet people just like me. I don’t meet ministers or daughters thereof.”

“You meet people like Sassy Lorraine.”

And this makes me smile, even though his story was sad. “I have a feeling she’s gonna hang around in my life for years to come.”

“Should I tell you a happier story now?”

“I’d like that. But first, I want to know why you told me the sad one to begin with.”

“Because I spent that whole night thinking about you, Lowyn. And how you would’ve loved that lantern festival. That’s why the little girl got away from me.”

I reach over and take his hand. It’s a little bit cold, so I hold it in both of mine, trying to warm him up. “What’s the happy story?”

“I saw you on TV once.”

“Oh.” I’m surprised. He hasn’t brought up Jet Shadows yet. So I guess I figured he didn’t know about him. But I guess I was wrong.

“Don’t worry, Low. I’m not gonna pry into whatever was going on with that Jet guy. But I was back in America—in Georgia, actually—taking a meeting with Charlie, one of my DC contacts. And we were in a bar and there you were on the TV. Your name all printed up on the screen.”

“When was this?” I’m only asking because the actual filming of that was a long time ago now. But they play reruns all the time.

“About six years ago.”

“Well, six years ago Jet and I had already gone our separate ways.”

“Did you date him?”

“Briefly. For a few months. He helped me a lot. He’s really the reason I’m so fortunate now. And as successful as I am.”

“I doubt that, Lowyn. You seem like a real hard worker to me.”

“Well, this is your happy story? Because this doesn’t feel like your happy story.”

“Well, it is a happy story because I was in pretty bad place that day. I learned something about the people I was working for that kinda changed my life in… not a great way.”

“What did you learn?”

He stares at me for a moment. And while I might not be a mind reader, this pause does not warrant that level of skill. It’s pretty clear he’s trying to figure out if he should tell me the truth or not. For a moment, I’m sure he’s not going to. But then he says, “One of my men died,” and I absolutely know this is the truth.

“How did that happen?”

“He had some kind of reaction to a… treatment they were giving him.”

“Was he sick?”

“No. Not quite.”

“Then what was he being treated for?”

“He was still in the Marines. So… yeah. If they tell you to take a treatment, you take the treatment.”

“And this killed him?”

He nods at me. “It did.”

“Did you ever take that treatment?”

“No. We were out. Contractors, remember? Anyway. Charlie made me come see him to talk about that. And I was in the worst mood. And then there you were. And even though I could tell that you were maybe a little bit enamored with that Jet guy, it didn’t matter. You made me smile.”

I picture his life all these years, something I’ve tried not to do since he came home. But he’s told me three stories now and two of them involve death. So I’m starting to get the feeling that Collin Creed has seen more than his share in the past twelve years and this makes me sad.

It makes me want to change things for him. Because, for whatever reason, he and I were given a reprieve from this year’s Revival story. It’s a temporary one, for sure. More like a day off, really. But it’s more than we had when we woke up this morning and I think we should make the most of it. I believe he deserves a very nice day.

So I stand up and offer him my hand.

He looks up at me with those eyes of his. And this time, when I look at them, I don’t just see the colors. I see the man. The honesty. The sincerity. “What are we doing now, Low?”

“Going for a walk. Would you like to take a stroll through the magical world of Revival Town with me?”

He grins and stands up, accepting my hand, and then we leave the gazebo and stroll down the boardwalk, looking at all the same familiar things that look so different now just because we’ve thrown a tent over them.

People appear. Then crowds of them. And soon it’s time for the Revival. I know Collin doesn’t want to go, so I don’t bother asking him. But he surprises me and starts leading me that way once his daddy’s voice comes across the loudspeakers talking about the rumble and the glory.

His dog, Mercy, follows. He doesn’t even have her on a lead today, but she stays right by his side like they’ve been partners forever.

The Revival is beautiful, as always. Particularly because of the children’s choir, which has always been my favorite part, but also because Simon isn’t loud and charismatic like he was yesterday. He’s never been as good a preacher as Mr. Creed was. He will never fill those shoes. Mr. Creed could really wring the emotions out of a person.

But Simon’s sermon is nice. It’s all about new beginnings—fitting, for Easter Sunday and the springtime in general.

And right during the middle of it, the rain starts. Coming down hard on the overarching tent above the one we’re in.

People stir a little, but there are no leaks. And after just a few minutes, the pounding rain and cracking thunder becomes just another part of the show. A backdrop soundtrack or something.

Rosie and Bryn both take turns fainting when Simon raises his hands up for some reason or another. I notice Amon off to the left shoutin’ particularly loud ‘amens.’

Old Man Hunt is led up to the front for healing, and of course, there’s a miracle and subsequent rejoicing. Then more music, and more singing, and fainting.

It’s a good show. Kinda like it was back when I was a kid.

When it’s over, people linger and chat, but Collin and I just wander out with the guests like we’re not playing any parts at all. I do notice that Jacob Wonder is taking a lot of pictures of us, which means we’re probably gonna be back on the front page of the program next weekend, but I don’t mention this to Collin. There’s no need to worry about things that haven’t happened yet.

We go over to the river on the far side of the tent grounds. There’s no tent roof here, but there is a little tunnel of canvas that leads right to the same dock where we spent time on Friday.

When we get there, I have a little worry that we won’t be able to fill this day and it will be nothing but a whole lot of awkward silences and such. But then Collin starts talking, telling me more about his time away. Not sad stories this time. Just regular stuff. Starting off with how he and Amon spent the first two years in the Marines before they were discharged.

“What does a counterintelligence specialist do?” I ask him.

“It’s a spy thing.”

“You were a spy?”

“No. I was just learning how it all works. I didn’t go out into the field at all those first two years. I just sat in that room filled with computers looking at other people’s computer screens and listening in on their conversations with their assets. Which means people. Which actually means snitches and shit. I was just there to observe.”

“Sounds boring.”

“It was so fuckin’ boring.”

“You didn’t have a choice in this?”

“Nope. They just told me what to do, and then I did it.”

“After the two years, though? Did you have a choice in that?”

“Sure. I did. And I could’ve said no, I guess. But what else was I gonna do? I wasn’t in the Marines anymore. If I did it the way they wanted me to—set up a private security team—then they would pay for all that start-up shit. And it would all be in my name.”

“All of it? What about Amon?”

“No. It was all in my name. Which isn’t a great thing, actually. It’s just someone to blame when the shit goes sideways.”

“Did they blame you?”

“They tried.” Collin takes a moment to laugh here. “They did try. But I didn’t do anything wrong. I was offered military contracts signed by a five-star general, not to mention a whole horde of his underlings. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”

“Why do you think they set it up that way?”

“What do ya mean?”

“That you would get off scot-free, and those men would take the fall.”

He blows out a breath. “Well, the only real explanation is that they still need me. And those guys who took the fall were no longer necessary.”

“Yeah.” I look out over the water, just watching the rain as it pelts the surface, making it all jagged with splashes. “That’s how it looks to me too. But you’re not workin’ for them?”

“I already told you I wasn’t. But…” He pauses. “I mean, the government is my main client, Lowyn. So it’s all very same-same, ya know?”

I nod at him. And I do understand this, I’m just kinda worried about what it might mean.

Mercy barks and both Collin and I look over to find her staring down at the river, which is flowing really fast right now since it’s spring and raining.

Collin walks over to her, peering down into the river, then looks at me and shrugs. “No idea what this dog is barking about. Probably saw a rabbit or something. Maybe I should take her back to the tent. It’s probably time for her to eat, anyway.”

“You go ahead, I’ll wait here.” The security tent is not that far away. If I get up on my tiptoes, I can even see it. So Collin nods, tells Mercy to follow, and they go off in that direction.

I continue to look out at the river, just watching it go by. But then I spy a large pile of debris coming my way. Like a tangle of twigs and leaves. But something else too, because it’s a big clump. Suddenly it breaks free and starts coming at me fast. That’s when I realize it’s not just trees, but… I squint as it goes rushing by, then pull my head back, confused. Because I swear I just saw bones in that clump.

“You should be careful, ya know.”

I let out a forced breath. Then I turn and face him. “What can I do for you, Grimm?”

Grimm is standing there at the end of the dock wearing one of the special new outfits, like the ones made for Collin and his friends. He’s pretty much the definition of handsome with that dark hair and matching dark stubble on his jaw. He doesn’t shave, he grooms. And even when he’s not dressed for Revival, he always looks nice. Like he could’ve been a male model if he had walked out of Disciple and went somewhere like New York or LA.

“I’m just telling you. You need to be careful around him.”

“You don’t need to tell me anything, Grimm. Go away.” Then I turn back to the river. It’s not that I hate Grimm, it’s just… we dated. Briefly. A long time ago. I was in a weird place, my mama had only just died like a year before and there was trouble. He was kind of part of that trouble, but only in an auxiliary way. Still, he was there in the periphery and that’s how I think of him these days. He just makes me edgy.

“He’s not what you think. I know. Whatever he told you about where he’s been and what he’s been doing, it’s not what you think.”

Against my better judgment, I turn back around. “How would you know, Grimm?”

“I’ve got access to privileged information. You know that as well as I do. Collin Creed is here for a reason and I am just warning you to be careful.”

“What reason?”

“Ask him yourself.” Then he turns and walks away.

I grumble under my breath. Fuckin’ Grimm. He’s always known exactly how to push my buttons. “Just ignore him, Lowyn.” I say this out loud. Over and over again, like a mantra. “Just ignore him, just ignore him.”

But it’s always been easier said than done and this time is no different.

“All right.”

I whirl around, surprised. Collin is coming towards me again. “Are you OK?”

“What?” I wipe my hands on my dress. They are sweaty for some reason.

“You look… startled. Did I come up on you too quiet?” He’s already next to me now, his hands slipping easily around my waist as he grins down at me with mischievous eyes.

And this makes me happy for some reason. He’s different now. Calmer, for sure. And he’s enjoying this day at the Revival grounds. Something he probably didn’t think was possible. “You didn’t scare me, Collin. Not in the least.”

He offers me his hand and I take it. Then he leads me away from the river and back into the tent where the people are.

But there’s a little voice in my head now though. Grimm’s voice. You need to be careful around him. I want to push it aside and just ignore it, but deep down, I know there’s some truth in what he said. Collin is here for a reason. And it doesn’t have anything to do with me. He’s already told me his reason and I don’t doubt him—I certainly don’t think he’s a liar—but lots of people find omission to be their pathway to the truth. Myself included. Hell, everyone in this town included. So I can’t just throw Grimm’s comments away.

That doesn’t mean his comments matter, either. Because they don’t. Not to me. I don’t care why Collin Creed came home. I don’t care what he’ll be doin’ out there on that old compound.

I’m just glad he’s back.

“What happened to your dog?”

Collin looks over his shoulder, then back at me. “She’s in the security tent. I’m not patrolling, so I figure she could take a rest. But…” He winces here.

“But what?”

“She’s coming home with me tonight.”

“She is?”

“Every night, actually.”

I smile, then laugh. “We’ve got ourselves a dog now, do we?”

“We do. I don’t think she’ll be any trouble. She speaks four languages.”

“I think bringing that dog home is a fine idea.”

Just as I say this, a child begins to sing. So I look in that direction and find little Bethylynn Baptist—Jim Bob’s great-granddaughter—stepping forward from a crowd wearing the prettiest dress a little girl has ever seen, and I’m willing to bet my whole reputation that her dress was wrapped up in paper on her doorstep this morning, probably sitting inside a two-foot-wide straw basket. She starts belting out ‘Sing Me an Old-Fashioned Song’ as a boy with a guitar comes forward. A pair of girls start fiddlin’ and then the unmistakable sound of a standup bass thumps from inside the crowd—which is getting thicker as the moments pass—and just a second later, there are dozens of kids from the Children’s Choir surrounding Collin and me, like they are serenading us.

Guests crowd in too, clapping along, and then someone yells, “Dance, everyone, dance!”

Which is a cue, because suddenly half of the crowd—who are all Disciple people—scatter around, forming up, and start twirling, and stepping, and hopping. Their shoes and boots stomping loud on the wooden boardwalk to a feisty beat.

“Holy shit,” Collin mumbles. Then he looks at me. “What are they doing?”

He’s not asking because he doesn’t know what they’re doing. He’s asking because he does.

Because they’re doing the final dance that has ended the season every single year without fail, since it started almost a hundred years ago.

It’s a purely Revival way of dancing that combines the polka, the square dance, and the quadrille while adding in a little bit of local flavor to sweeten it up. It starts out with four pairs to a square, and you do different parts of the dance with each other’s partners for a good little while. But then everyone forms up in a line in a fast-paced modified quadrille as the watching crowd claps out a beat.

It’s chaos. Beautifully coordinated chaos. And this one dance, done by all the Disciple kids, is the whole reason people pay a pretty penny to attend the Christmas Eve show when the season ends. It’s been that way since before Collin and I were born.

So his question is not what dance are they doing, but why are they doing it now, on opening day?

And I don’t know.

That song ends and another child—a boy this time—starts singing ‘There’s Better Times A-Coming.’ A banjo joins in, then all the kids are dancing again.

“Come on, everyone!” Rosie yells. She’s standing on the elevated wooden porch that leads to the bakery, her arms waving in the air and her face lit up gold from the strings of lights hanging down from the tent ceiling. “Dance with us!”

And of course, when you invite people to do something, some will most certainly go ahead and do that. So people start dancing. It’s a very complicated dance, so they’re all Disciple people too. But when you look at the guests you can see it in their faces. How much they want to be a part of this. How much they want to feel this joy. And some of them don’t care that they have no clue what they’re doing. When they are invited in by an extended hand, they take it and do their best.

Collin comes out in front of me and offers me his hand as well.

I think I blush like a fucking teenager, because my whole face goes hot.

“Come on, Lowyn. If I remember how to do this dance, I know damn well you do too.”

He’s right. I’ve been doing this dance since I was four.

I give him my hand and suddenly I’m swept up in a wave of delight as he moves me around, and through, the dancing crowd. The next thing I know Rosie and Amon are in our group. And the pair of us join up with Jacob Wonder and April Laver. Then Bryn is there, dancing with Ethan Sardis, who runs the mechanic shop on Third and Maple, and we’ve got ourselves a square.

The dance is never-ending, that’s what makes it so fun. When the song ends, some other child in the choir starts singing ‘Can’t You Hear Me Callin’,’ and we just keep going. I don’t know even know how long it lasts. Half an hour? Two hours? A lifetime? All I know is that I haven’t danced this much, or smiled this much, or felt this good since before that one dark night when everything went wrong.

But eventually, it all slows down, and little Bethylynn Baptist is back crooning out ‘Down to the River to Pray’ in her angelic six-year-old voice, and we all slow too. Collin and I face each other and I rest my head on his shoulder as he holds me, just listening to the words echo inside him as he sings along. We all sing along. Even if most of us are just whispering or catching our breath.

When that’s over, it’s all over. People start clapping, all of us. It’s a familiar moment because it comes every year on Christmas Eve when the season ends. And even though we all complain about the work, and the stress, and the baking, and the fainting, and the crafting, and everything that comes along with being a part of this Broadway play of a town, we’re always sad when it ends.

Even Collin looks sad. And there’s not even a reason to be sad because this is opening day.

It’s just conditioning that we’re feeling.

Because that dancing we just did means somethin’s over.