Ill be damned the man said. Might be sort of good-looking, otherwise.
Yes sir Rydell said.
See that box of Cream o Wheat there? Think you can stir me up a cup of that into this water when it boils?
Yes sir.
Well, Ill go find you a map to look at. Skeeter and Whitey here, theyll just keep you company.
Yes sir
PARADISE, so. CALIFORNIA
A CHRISTIAN COMMUNITY
THREE MILES
NO CAMPING
CONCRETE PADS
FULL HOOKUPS
ELECTRIFIED SECURITY PERIMETER
FREE SWIMMING
LICENSED CHRISTIAN DAYCARE (STATE OF so. CAL.)
327 CHANNELS ON DOWNLINK
And a taller cross rising beyond that, this one welded from rusty railroad track, a sort of framework stuck full of old televisions, their dead screens all looking out toward the road there.
Chevette Washington was asleep now, so she missed that.
Rydell thought about how hed used Codess phone to get through to Subletts number in L.A., and gotten this funny ring, which had nearly made him hang up right then, but it had turned out to be call-forwarding, because Sublett had this leave to go and stay with his mother, who was feeling kind of sick.
You mean youre in Texas?
Paradise, Berry. Moms sick cause she n a bunch of others got moved up here to SoCal.
Paradise?
Sublett had explained where it was while Rydell looked at the Shell mans map.
Hey Rydell had said, when he had a general idea where it was, how about I drive over and see you?
Thought you had you a job up in San Francisco.
Well, Ill tell you about that when I get there.
You know theyre saying Im an apostate here? Sublett hadnt sounded happy about that.
A what?
An apostate. Cause I showed my mom this Cronenberg film, Berry? This Videodrome? And they said it was from the Devil.
I thought all those movies were supposed to have God in em.
Theres movies that are clearly of the Devil, Berry. Or anyway thats what Reverend Fallon says. Says all of Cronenbergs are.
He in Paradise, too?
Lord no Sublett had said, hes in these tunnels out on the Channel Islands, between England and France. Cant leave there, either, because he needs the shelter.
From what?
Taxes. You know who dug those same tunnels, Berry?
Who?
Hitler did, with slave labor.
I didnt know that Rydell had said, imagining this scary little guy with a black mustache, standing up on a rock and cracking a big whip.
Now here came another sign, this one not nearly as professional as the first one, just black spraypaint letters on a couple of boards.
R.U. READY FOR ETERNITY?
HE LIVES! WILL YOU?
WATCH TELEVISION
Watch television? She was awake now.
Well Rydell said, Fallonites believe Gods sort of just there. On television, I mean.
Gods on television?
Yeah. Kind of like in the background or something. Subletts mother, shes in the church herself, but Subletts kind of lapsed.
So they watch tv and pray, or what?
Well, I think its more like kind of a meditation, you know? What they mostly watch is all these old movies, and they figure if they watch enough of them, long enough, the spirit will sort of enter into them.
We had Revealed Aryan Nazarenes, up in Oregon she said. First Church of Jesus, Survivalist. As soon shoot you as look at you.
Bad news Rydell agreed, the RV cresting a little ridge there, those kind of Christians Then he saw Paradise, down there, all lit up with these lights on poles.
The security perimeter they advertised was just coils of razor-wire circling maybe an acre and a half. Rydell doubted if it actually was electrified, but he could see screamers hanging on it, every ten feet or so, so it would be pretty effective anyway. There was a sort of blockhouse-and-gate set-up where the road ran in, but all it seemed to be protecting were about a dozen campers, trailers, and semi-rigs, parked on cement beds around what looked like an old-fashioned radio tower theyd topped with a whole cluster of satellite dishes, those little expensive ones that looked sort of like giant gray plastic marshmallows. Somebody had dammed a creek, to make a sort of pond for swimming, but the creek itself looked like the kind of industrial runoff you wouldnt even find bugs around, let alone birds.
Sure had the whole place lit up, though. He could hear the drumming of big generators as they drove down the incline.
Jesus Chevette Washington said.
Rydell pulled up by the blockhouse and powered his window down, glad it still worked. A man in a blaze-orange fleece jacket and a matching cap came out, carrying some kind of shotgun with a skeletal metal stock. Private property he said, looking at where the windshield shouldve been. What happened to your windshield there, mister?
Deer Chevette Washington said.
Here to visit our friends, the Subletts? Rydell said, hoping he could distract the guard before hed notice the bullet holes or anything. Expecting us, if you wanna go call em.
Cant say you much look like Christians.
Chevette Washington sort of leaned across Rydell and gave the guard this stare. I dont know about you, brother, but were Aryan Nazarene, out of Eugene. We wouldnt want to even come in there, say you got any mud people, any kind of race-mixing. Race-traitors all over, these days.
The guard looked at her. You Nazarene, how come you aint skins?
She touched the front of her crazy haircut, the short spikey part. Next thing youre gonna tell me, Jesus was a Jew. Dont know what this means?
He looked more than maybe just a little worried, now.
Got us some sanctified nails in the back, here. Maybe that gives you some idea.
Rydell saw the guard hesitate, swallow.
Hey, good buddy Rydell said, you gonna call tip ol Sublett for us, or what?
The man went back into the blockhouse.
Whats that about nails? RydeE asked.
Something Skinner told me about once she said. Scared me.
Dora, Subletts mother, drank Coke and Mexican vodka. Rydell had seen people drink that before, but never at room temperature. And the Coke was flat, because she bought it and the vodka in these big plastic supermarket bottles, and they looked as though theyd already lasted her a while. Rydell decided he didnt feel like drinking anyway.
The living room of Doras trailer had a matching couch and reclining lounger. Dora lay back in the lounger with her feet up, for her circulation she said, Rydell and Chevette Washington sat side by side on the couch, which was more a loveseat, and Sublett sat on the floor, his knees drawn up almost under his chin. There was a lot of stuff on the walls, and on little ornamental shelves, but it was all very clean. Rydell figured that was because of Subletts allergies. There sure was a lot of it, though: plaques and pictures and figurines and things Rydell figured had to be those prayer hankies. There was a flat type of hologram of Rev. Fallon, looking as much like a possum as ever, but a possum that had gotten a tan and maybe had plastic surgery. There was a life-size head of J.D. Shapely that Rydell didnt like because the eyes seemed to follow you. Most of the good stuff was sort of grouped around the television, which was big and shiny but the old kind from before they started to get real big and flat. It was on now, showing this black and white movie, but the sound was off.
Youre sure you wont have a drink, Mr. Rydell?
No maam, thank you Rydell said.
Joel doesnt drink. He has allergies, YOU know.
Yes maam. Rydell hadnt ever known Subletts first name before.
Sublett was wearing brand-new white denim jeans, a white t-shirt, white cotton socks, and disposable white paper hospital slippers.
He was always a sensitive boy, Mr. Rydell. I remember one time he sucked on the handle of this other boys Big Wheel. Well, his mouth like to turned inside-out.