only because he considered himself something of
a father figure to Kenneth: “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up to
the discipline and instruction of the Lord.”
So
depending on how their talk went, discipline, at the very least, is what it
might take.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
When
they reached the truck, daylight had waned. But they made it through the woods. They came upon no other hunters, no
other animals. They were safe
now. They were in the clear.
The road
was quiet. The truck looked as if
it hadn’t been tampered with. Everything appeared good and right. God was with them.
God also
was the reason they chose this place that was so far away from anywhere, it was
barely there at all. Monson,
Maine. A place where you could drag
a whore into the woods and let her fend for her life until the decision was
made to end it.
But the woods
weren’t all that Ted Carpenter imagined them to be. The moose, for instance―he never
saw tha t coming. And Lord
knows, he never thought he’d have to run from one, only to get lost. Getting lost surprised him because they
had studied the woods so carefully. And then there was the hunter, bursting through the trees, only to be
killed by Kenneth and sent to hell by him.
They were
being challenged as a team, and he personally was being challenged by Kenneth,
who now was opening up the large plastic storage box that was at the front of
the truck bed and removing from it the tactical night vision goggles they’d
wear when it got dark. He watched
the young man before him and wished that, in his youth, he had been as
similarly focused when it came to doing God’s work. He respected him on that level. He just needed to bring him around and
let him know that, as God saw it, it was he who was in charge.
“Kenneth,”
he said, “can we have a word?”
“We don’t
have time for a word, Ted. We need―”
“We have
time, Kenneth. I need to have a
word with you now.”
The direct
tone of his voice made Kenneth look up at him. He met his eyes―those ice blue
eyes framed by the thick dark lashes that caused every woman to melt when he
approached them at bars like The Grind―and held his gaze with an
unflinching authority Kenneth hadn’t seen in them before.
Generally,
Ted’s eyes were without emotion―at least that’s what his mother used to
say about him when she was alive (“They look dead to me. You look dead to me. What’s wrong with you?”).
It’s
also what some of his teachers used to say to her. They’d tell her that they were worried
about him. No friends. No social activities. Just him and his worn-out Bible, the
reading of which took precedent over school work. Since his mother was a God-fearing
woman, she protected him when it came to his Bible studies, but she also told
him that learning math and English and history also were important.
“You’ve
got to make time for all of it, Teddy,” she said to him one day, when another
concern arrived from one of his teachers.
“Yes,
Mama.”
“Just do
enough to get some average grades―nothing spectacular because the good
Lord knows you don’t have anything spectacular in you―then you can get
out of there and become the holy-rolling preacher we all know you want to
be. You can gather your flock
then. You might even be happy
then. Happy enough that it will
show in your eyes.”
“Yes,
Mama.”
And
that’s what he did. He graduated
with a 2.1 GPA, which was enough to get him out of high school with a solid D
average and start thinking about his future.
In front
of him, Kenneth shifted. “What do
you need to say, Ted?”
“That
you’ve been sinning.”
“That
I’ve been what?”
“Sinning. You’ve been sinning. I don’t think you realize it because
things are tense again, but you’ve been sinning. You need that brought to your
a father figure to Kenneth: “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up to
the discipline and instruction of the Lord.”
So
depending on how their talk went, discipline, at the very least, is what it
might take.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
When
they reached the truck, daylight had waned. But they made it through the woods. They came upon no other hunters, no
other animals. They were safe
now. They were in the clear.
The road
was quiet. The truck looked as if
it hadn’t been tampered with. Everything appeared good and right. God was with them.
God also
was the reason they chose this place that was so far away from anywhere, it was
barely there at all. Monson,
Maine. A place where you could drag
a whore into the woods and let her fend for her life until the decision was
made to end it.
But the woods
weren’t all that Ted Carpenter imagined them to be. The moose, for instance―he never
saw tha t coming. And Lord
knows, he never thought he’d have to run from one, only to get lost. Getting lost surprised him because they
had studied the woods so carefully. And then there was the hunter, bursting through the trees, only to be
killed by Kenneth and sent to hell by him.
They were
being challenged as a team, and he personally was being challenged by Kenneth,
who now was opening up the large plastic storage box that was at the front of
the truck bed and removing from it the tactical night vision goggles they’d
wear when it got dark. He watched
the young man before him and wished that, in his youth, he had been as
similarly focused when it came to doing God’s work. He respected him on that level. He just needed to bring him around and
let him know that, as God saw it, it was he who was in charge.
“Kenneth,”
he said, “can we have a word?”
“We don’t
have time for a word, Ted. We need―”
“We have
time, Kenneth. I need to have a
word with you now.”
The direct
tone of his voice made Kenneth look up at him. He met his eyes―those ice blue
eyes framed by the thick dark lashes that caused every woman to melt when he
approached them at bars like The Grind―and held his gaze with an
unflinching authority Kenneth hadn’t seen in them before.
Generally,
Ted’s eyes were without emotion―at least that’s what his mother used to
say about him when she was alive (“They look dead to me. You look dead to me. What’s wrong with you?”).
It’s
also what some of his teachers used to say to her. They’d tell her that they were worried
about him. No friends. No social activities. Just him and his worn-out Bible, the
reading of which took precedent over school work. Since his mother was a God-fearing
woman, she protected him when it came to his Bible studies, but she also told
him that learning math and English and history also were important.
“You’ve
got to make time for all of it, Teddy,” she said to him one day, when another
concern arrived from one of his teachers.
“Yes,
Mama.”
“Just do
enough to get some average grades―nothing spectacular because the good
Lord knows you don’t have anything spectacular in you―then you can get
out of there and become the holy-rolling preacher we all know you want to
be. You can gather your flock
then. You might even be happy
then. Happy enough that it will
show in your eyes.”
“Yes,
Mama.”
And
that’s what he did. He graduated
with a 2.1 GPA, which was enough to get him out of high school with a solid D
average and start thinking about his future.
In front
of him, Kenneth shifted. “What do
you need to say, Ted?”
“That
you’ve been sinning.”
“That
I’ve been what?”
“Sinning. You’ve been sinning. I don’t think you realize it because
things are tense again, but you’ve been sinning. You need that brought to your
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