The TimeMakers Shop: A Little Black Book for Frantic People

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Even Marshall added his bit. I hope you will come with us and share our poor repast. How can you just walk off and disappoint everybody? Marshall and Scarlett and Toolie and Ollie piled into the cab, so Deaver had to ride in back with Katie and Janie and a younger brother, Dusty. The two really old people he saw last night were way in the back of the truck.

Katie kept Deaver right up front, behind the cab. It was annoying, except that it also felt pretty nice.

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The town was finally coming awake as they drove to the pageant field. No, they drove that noisy truck up and down every road there was in town, most of them just dirt traces since nothing much got paved these days outside Zarahemla.

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The sound of the rattletrap truck brought people looking out their windows, and children spurted out the doors to lean on picket fences, jumping up and down. Pretty soon the news was ahead of the truck, and people were already lined up along the edge of the road, straining to see them. That was when the Aals [p.

Wait, what's this?

One of them looked like the top of a missile, and another one was a kind of tower—a tall steep pyramid like a picture Deaver saw in school, the Pyramid of the Sun in Mexico City. Deaver figured they must have seen the shows before. She waved at the crowd. Pageant Day! She looked at him oddly. The Glorious Night is from the Bible. Here it is, thought Deaver. Here comes the final freeze-out.

Or the sudden interest in converting me, leading up to a freeze-out soon enough. The way that these show gypsies were still part of Hatchville, because they were all Mormons.

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The way most of the other range riders liked being in town, among fellow Mormons. Now he really regretted letting them talk him into coming along to breakfast like this. Just went on like nothing got said. When I was little we spent a year in Zarahemla. So he seized on the only thing he could halfway remember. No, no. He sort of shrugged and shook his head at the same time.

Pyramid Scheme

Who would he tell? And if it was a real secret, why would she tell him? The actress I was named after. A movie called A Lion in Winter. Actually I saw it about five times, in one single day, over and over again. He had a VCR that still ran on his windmill generator. Hardly anybody ever got to see them. Out here on the fringe nobody did. Electricity was too expensive to waste on televisions.

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They were past the houses now, pulling onto a bumpy field that had been planted in wheat, long since harvested. She was the first to wear pants. The first woman to wear them. The truck pulled to a stop at the eastern edge of the field. Janie and Dusty jumped right off the truck, leaving them alone between the set pieces and the back of the cab. Deaver finally guessed that she was quoting from the movie. That sort of attitude made Deaver crazy.

But he swallowed his anger without showing it. After all, she meant no harm. He spoke the way he always did to a sad-looking woman who was too close to ignore. Her face brightened at once.

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His hand had just been hanging at his side, but now that she was pressed up against him, he realized his hand was being pressed into the soft curve of her belly just inside her hip bone. Was she asking? For a moment he stood there, not moving his hand or anything.

After a minute—no just a few seconds—he swung himself off the truck and joined the others. They gathered in the field and Parley Aal, the old man from the back of the truck, he said a prayer.

source url He also asked God to help them all remember their lines and be safe. There was more stuff on that truck than he would ever have thought possible. The tower and the missile had doors in back, and they were packed tight with props and machinery and supplies. It took only an hour to pitch the tents they lived in—four of them, plus the kitchen awning—but that was the easy part.

It took all the strength he and Toolie and Ollie and Marshall had. So he was saving Katie work. Was that why she was treating him so nice? Well, that was all right with him. What else was he going to do this morning? Call in to Moab and then sit around and wait for instructions, most likely. Might as well be doing this. Best not to remember the way her body pressed against his hand, the way she squeezed his arm. They carried metal piping and thick heavy blocks of steel out about fifteen yards from the truck, one on each side of where the audience would be, and then assembled them into trees that held the lights.

They kept tossing around words that Deaver never heard of— fresnel , ellipsoidal —but before long he was getting the hang of what each light was for. Ollie was the one in charge of all the electrical work. Deaver had a little bit of practice with that sort of thing, but he made it a point not to show off.

He just did whatever Ollie ordered, fast and correct and without a word unless he had to ask a question. By the time the lights were wired, aimed, and focused, Ollie was talking to Deaver like they were friends since first grade. Even with the lights set up the work was hardly started. They had breakfast standing around the gas stove.