Chapter LVII
CHAPTER LVII
With Blue Tweed departed, Little Lyman became the new owner of an 1854 copy of the New Testament. Only when he picked it up from behind the bar the following morning, still uncertain of what to do with it, would he find his $80 folded inside the back cover. Alongside it would be a card from a casino in Reno, Nevada, that read THANK YOU FOR PLAYING . Out of curiosity, Little Lyman would google the name and learn that it had burned to the ground in 1975.
But that was for another day. For now, from somewhere outside the bar, Little Lyman heard the sound of music playing on a radio. He went to the front window of the Old Hatch and glimpsed an interior light shining in a black Mercury Marauder. It was now one of just two vehicles parked in the lot, the other being Little Lyman’s Accord. Little Lyman could see a newspaper spread across the steering wheel of the Marauder. Blue Tweed was working on a crossword. Even though the interior of the Old Hatch was now almost entirely dark, and the blinds on the window should have concealed him from view, Little Lyman saw Blue Tweed turn in his direction and thought the man might have tilted his head in acknowledgment.
Little Lyman came from a long line of men who weren’t dumb.
He wants to be seen. He wants to be remembered.
And Little Lyman was convinced that somewhere not too far from the Old Hatch, bad business was going down, business in which Mr. Blue Tweed had a vested interest.