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)
Still… “Amon, there is no way that Nash and Ryan are gonna agree to work for profit share.”
“Nope, they’re not. They’re not even invited.”
“So it’s us? Me and you? Every fuckin’ weekend? Amon, how do you not remember what it’s like to be in the Revival? It takes over your life. I don’t wanna do it.”
“It’s not every weekend. Things slow down in the fall and we get all of winter off. It’s not a bad deal.”
“What if we’re busy? We’re just starting our company.”
“Yeah, but you’re not going on any jobs—you’re running things. And I’m not going on any jobs—I’ve got the dogs. We’ll be here. And besides, Lowyn will be there too.”
“That’s not making it better. Now we’re gonna have to contribute something crafty to her fuckin’ booth! I still have nightmares from those non-stop fucking craft projects in high school.”
“You do not. And anyway, Lowyn made all yours for you after you turned thirteen. She’ll make them for you again.”
“You don’t know that. And it’s not the point. I specifically told you that I didn’t want to be a part of the Revival. You should not have spoken for me.”
“What do you think of this drone?” He simultaneously changes the subject and turns his laptop so I can see the screen.
I state the obvious. “You’re changin’ the subject.”
“It’s twenty-five thousand. But we’d use it again. It’s got a payload of nearly fifty pounds.” Amon’s big plan is to do recon for a few weeks, then fly a drone in, pick up the dog, and fly away. He’s convinced this is gonna be no big deal.
“The dog weighs five pounds. Why do we need a drone that can carry fifty?”
“Because we can expense some of it. And like I said, we’ll use it again in the future. That’s a guarantee. You know how they come in handy. We’ve got plenty of money, so I’m gonna get it.”
He plops his laptop back down into his lap and starts typing again.
He’s right about the drone, I just feel like arguing with him because I’m pissed off about the Revival. I’m not gonna be security. But now everyone in town is gonna hear about how I refuse to do my part. And they’re all gonna have opinions about it.
I stew in this discontent the rest of the way home. Amon makes conversation about more drone plans, but I’m only half listening. My mind is spinnin’ with imaginary Revival scenarios. How this place is gonna suck me in and never let me go.
I suppose it was naïve of me to think that we could move in so close to Disciple and keep our distance at the same time. I mean, maybe it could’ve worked that way. If Amon wasn’t so enthusiastic about doing his part. I didn’t see that coming, I guess. Never once, in all these years, has he ever mentioned anything about missing the Revival.
His parents, yes. He’s close with his family. And he’s got four sisters. All much younger than him, the same way Olive is much younger than me. They are a close family despite their lower status on the Revival ladder. They were in charge of set-up when I was little. I do remember that. They didn’t do the stage—that was Clover’s family, they were in charge of the stage—but the Parrish family took care of everything else inside the tent back when I was a kid.
Then Amon got his bad-boy reputation and the Parrish family was demoted because of it. They did clean-up, after that. But everyone gets the same share. Clean-up, set-up, who cares, I guess.
Security is a step up, though. Maybe that’s why Amon wants to do it? Maybe he’s gonna get his family in on it?
“Hey.”
“Hmm?” He’s still busy typing and we’re nearly home.
“What does your family do to contribute these days?”
He looks up from his laptop. “My sisters have this marketing thing going. So they all run the social media. My mama and daddy just do the crafty shit for Lowyn’s booth now.”
“Wow. It never even occurred to me that the Revival might have a social presence.”
“Speaking of, you wanna pay for ours? My sisters said they’d make room for us on the client list.”
“Do we need that?”
“We do. It’s the easiest way to get visibility these days.”
I shrug. “What the hell. We’re spending twenty-five grand on a fuckin’ drone.”
“You’re gonna love this drone!” And then he proceeds to spend the last ten minutes of our drive telling me why we should consider getting an entire army of drones.
When I pull into our driveway I don’t get far. And when I side-eye Amon, he says, “I can explain.”
“Amon.”
“I can explain.”
“What the hell is this? There are a million people here.”
“Stop exaggerating. It’s not a million.”
It might as well be. The reason I can’t get down the driveway is because there are hundreds of cars and trucks parked haphazardly on the front part of the property and what feels like an equal number of men walking around doin’ shit. When we left this morning, there were maybe a dozen cars and trucks here. It felt appropriate. This is a deluge of people and vehicles.