righthand man.

Lydia believed in the power of dreams, and the way Garret spoke about his made her think that maybe he was more like her than she thoughts. She had a strong sense that her dreams meant something. Prophet was a strong and religiously loaded word, but it was one that she flirted with. “You should tell me about your dreams sometime.” She suggested, smiling up at him. She didn’t trust herself to judge the validity of any dreams he was having, but she would have liked to know if hers were similar to his. If they were both predicting the same things, it had to mean something. 

Garrett wasn’t entirely sure about sharing his dreams with Lydia. He wasn’t sure about sharing them with anyone, though, so it wasn’t a reflection of her character so much as his. He eventually offered a “Maybe,” in response. He nodded to her next question. “If I convinced Johnny, the others would follow. He’s kind of like our Jesus.” His words were light, but they were honest, too. He knew that the Revolutionaries saw Johnny as their leader. That would probably make him Peter, which wasn’t terribly inaccurate. Loyal to a tee, except when faced with execution...that seemed about right. “He’d probably love the irony of it.” Garrett certainly did. It was part of the appeal. As they crept along, he squinted down the road. “...How far is this place?”

Though he did not tell her how he was (and that was the answer she had truly wanted to know), Anna decided not to push it. She kicked the can when it came along her path, passing it back to Garrett as he listed of the various people of the Revolutionaries and how they were. When the question was turned back on her she took a moment to think about it. How was everyone else? Some of them were worried about all the people he had just talk about but not in the way Anna might worry. They’re worried in a rather extreme way, wanting to save them even though most of them probably don’t need to be saved the way she’s sure Faith is thinking. “Well, Hope seems like she’s feeling better, Chris and Faith are Chris and Faith as always and Natalie’s always telling them that. I haven’t talked to Claudia or Peter lately but I think they’re doing okay, same with Becca and Jill, and Luke is… good,” she finished lamely, remembering with a small smile how he had joined her on a walk just the other day. How was it that God had blessed her with such great company multiple times over the past few days? She needed to remember to thank Him later that night.

He listened to her talk about her group of friends with interest, offering a chuckle at the mention of Christian and his girlfriend and a thoughtful arch of the brow at her assessment of Luke Reade. Of all the Safe, he was the one Garrett truly couldn’t stand. One look at Anna, though, and Garrett knew he couldn’t -or shouldn’t- express his opinions on the boy. “I talked to Claudia and Peter the other day. They seem...the same.” That was something Garrett just couldn’t wrap his head around. The entire town was stuck in an endless loop of routine, and he longed for time like this with Anna to break up the endless cycle of school, work, and church. The House provided him with an out normally, but so did conversations like this. It wasn’t everyday he went to the lake and it wasn’t everyday he spent time with Anna Worth. It was...nice. As he popped his gum, Garrett knocked the can back to her and finally looked away from Anna and to their surroundings. He knew this town so well his feet had carried him straight to the path that led to the lake. “Race me?” He asked, a playful smile lighting up his eyes.

“it doesn’t matter,” faith insisted. “all that matters is that he’s the devil now, and rebels go to hell along with him. and it isn’t fun down there.” why didn’t that scare him? or the rest of them? was rebelling really worth eternal damnation? of course it wasn’t, she didn’t have to ask to know the answer. with a sigh, she dropped her arm. “please,” she said in a softer tone. “if you don’t mind. i should’ve brought a stool or something.”

The answer rolled from his lips before he’d even had a second to think about it, a reflex from months of skirting the rules. “It isn’t fun here, either, unless you do something about it.” Considering his thoughts on God and his doubt about heaven, it was just as likely that there was no hell, either. And even if there was, he’d rather enjoy some of his time here and spend the rest of eternity with his friends in hell than floating on top of clouds with the rest of the town. He got enough of pretending here. “You should’ve grown six inches,” Garrett murmured with a wink before stepping forward to fasten the poster back to the wall, fingers smoothing out the paper as he did.

Becky’s gaze followed the boy with an air of curiosity as he whistled. “No idea. I don’t even know what 1% milk means. All I know is that I need to replace it before they come home in an hour.” A longer sigh escaped her, understanding her questions were probably trivial to the perfectly nice boy. She eyes the carton he pulled out, giving it a shrug. “Do you think they’ll notice if it’s different from the one they had before?” The answer in her mind was no, but as she placed her hands on her hips inquisitively she understood that her steps were to be taken with a more careful air. Especially around someone’s who’s loose connections to the whole ordeal that plagued her constantly. After all, one never truly knew what kind of forces were working against them in Salvation as far as Becky was concerned.

“Does anyone really know what that means? I work here and I don’t.” He had a vague idea that the lower the number the better, but he put whatever his mom bought in his cereal and it tasted fine regardless. He selected a gallon jug with a red top and a half gallon carton from the refrigerator and held both out. “I think as long as it’s good on Chocolate Puffs it’ll work just fine.” Garrett held up the different containers. “Paper or plastic?”

“Nope I’m fine. Does it look like I’m lost or something?” Becky’s tone came off much more defensive than she’d meant it to sound- after all, she had only come to the store to buy replacement milk she’d conveniently spilled at her new home. The Potts were nice people, and the last thing she needed was everyone in the home to think she was both crazy and a slob. Thus there she was, contemplating what type of milk she should purchase instead of doing something useful with her time. Glancing over, she instantly recognized Garrett without a hitch. In a slightly calmer voice, she continued. “What kind of milk is the best kind to say ‘sorry I spilled your milk everywhere trying to feed a stray cat’?” she asked with the smallest sigh.

At the response, Garrett turned back to his stack. Some customers didn’t need or want help, and that was fine with him. He’d nearly finished the pyramid when the voice filtered back to him, and Garrett glanced up to see who he’d been talking to in the first place. Placing the last can, he shuffled towards the line of refrigerators at the back of the store and whistled through pursed lips. “That depends. Do you know what kind it was?” He was already reaching for one of the fridge doors before she’d even replied. She wouldn’t have asked if she knew.

 Christian was walking along the aisles of Joe’s Groceries, trying to find where the soup was. It was rare for him to even be in the store, let alone by himself, but his mother had asked him to stop by and grab cans of tomato soup for her. Standing right in front of a pyramid of soup, was one of them. Christian grinned and sauntered up to Garrett, pasting an innocent look on his face as he did so. “If it isn’t Johnny’s friend! Sorry to disturb you,” He wasn’t, “But you’re in my way., and honestly, that’s really bad customer service.” 

The voice was enough to make bile rise in his throat, but it was the words that caused his spine to stiffen and his jaw to set. Still, he was at work and had to maintain a certain professionalism, so Garrett simply stepped aside to let Christian take his pick of the delicious canned soup options. “Sorry. Didn’t realize people actually use this stuff when homemade is so much more savory. But I guess not all parents give a shit about their kids’ health.” His voice was casual, volume normal, and he said it with a smile, as his boss so often asked him to. So it wasn’t really breaking any rules, right? With a shrug, he held out one of the cans of tomato.

The only banned books Anna ever kept in her possession were the ones that her friends handed to her on occasion. Where she felt the need to return library books solely on principle, there was something comforting about having a stash of books hidden underneath her bed, all of them gifts. She was sure she would add this one to the box as soon as she was finished with it, along with the ones she had been given by Essie. “Well then, I guess it takes a mile for gum to lose its flavor,” she mused with a giggle, accepting the piece and stuffing the wrapper in her pocket as she walked. The artificial mint reminded her of tooth paste as she chewed on the gun, and while the taste wasn’t her favorite, it was definitely better than most of the food at school. What was it with school food tasting so awful? It seemed as though in all of the books she read about high schools, the food was awful. “How have you been?” she asked, happy to make conversation. “How is everyone?”

Those were two very different questions, and he decided to sidestep the more personal one because he wasn’t entirely sure how to answer it. He was still reeling after everything that had happened with Myra, trying to find his footing in this new order, scrambling to keep his friends together while keeping the biggest secret he’d ever had. Garrett knew a lot of secrets. People told him almost everything, even though he didn’t always ask. And he kept every one of them. They weren’t his to tell. Everyone was easier to talk about than himself, so Garrett latched onto that question instead, shrugging and kicking a beaten up can along the sidewalk as they made their way to the lake. “Johnny’s doing his best. Freddy’s doing...better, I think. Lydia might end up hoarding all of the animals on her own property, but she’s fine. I think Essie and Lily are more attached at the hip now than Johnny and me...” As he ticked off names, he held up a finger and then, with a shake of his head, stole a sideways glance at Anna and gave her a sheepish smile. “And how is everyone else?” They were sort of on separate sides of the town, now, but he didn’t feel out of place with her. Not really. It was easy enough to walk alongside Anna, their arms brushing, an afternoon at the lake in mind. He felt comfortable here. Not as comfortable as at Myra’s, but nowhere in Salvation felt that safe. Not anymore.

He was amused by the idea. Garrett and others attempting to subdue him. Peter would go kicking a screaming, he’d also probably threaten to turn them into the police as well. It’s hard to know how he’d act when never put in a situation as such. “Don’t go for the face if you are actually doing this.” He pointed at himself. “I need this to get me out of trouble.” He never considered himself to be drop-dead gorgeous. There were plenty of good-looking people in Salvation, but he didn’t know how others viewed him. Maybe he could use his looks to his advantage. What trouble would he really be getting into, though? “Thank you Jeeves.” He gave Garrett a quick nod and walked in while the door was still being held. The pleasant smell of greasy diner food woke him up. If Peter wasn’t hungry before, he was now. 

With a quick study of the boy’s face, Garrett broke into a short laugh. “I think you’ve got other assets that could get you out of any trouble. Or are you talking about your sister’s trouble?” Between the two Burke siblings, Garrett knew that the younger was in more trouble than the older. He also thought that her brother might have helped her out of a problem or two, but with his face? No. Maybe with his strength or his influence. A pretty face had never really stopped Essie from doing much of anything, from what he could see. Trailing him into the restaurant and taking a seat at the bar, he waved at one of the familiar waitresses and settled in. He always got the same thing when he came here -greasy cheeseburger and salty french fries with a very large soda, the latter of which was slid across to him even as he sat. “Been getting into things I don’t know about, Peter?” He teased, though he really was curious of the answer. If there was a rebellious streak in there, it might be easier to convince the others that they might be benefited by offering Peter an invitation. Besides that, the idea of Peter Burke getting into trouble was funny all on its own.

The pavement was hot under his feet. They would only go from hot to warm in the brief moment he lifted them from the ground to take another step. He spent a lot of time in the sun. That was one of the reasons why Peter thought he had blond hair when he was younger, but it turns out that wasn’t the case. “Not that I know of, unless someone’s not telling me something.” He joked with Garrett because he knew he would appreciate it. Even if others saw him as dull most of the time, it was because he chose not to be the life of the party. Maybe he could be if he wanted to be. “Maybe Andy will be free.” His best friend had become more and more busy over the last few months. It made him wonder where he was whenever he wasn’t home. 

It was a small victory in itself to get Peter Burke to joke around. Garrett wasn’t sure if it was his friends or his family life that made the boy so cookie-cutter perfect in larger gatherings, but he supposed being the elder brother to Essie might lead to acting completely different from her. “We’re all planning on kidnapping you, but you have to act surprised,” he stage-whispered to her with a playful wink. He was joking, of course. There was no such plan, despite Garrett’s opinion of Peter. Maybe someday. The mention of Andy Founder made his stomach twist a little unpleasantly. He knew why Andy’d been spending less time with Peter -and where he’d been spending that time- but it wasn’t like he could tell Peter that just now. He tried to think whether or not they had anything planned as a group that night and came up empty, deciding to answer with “Maybe.” It was the safe answer, but the only true one he could give. They’d finally reached the restaurant, and he pulled the door open with a little mock bow. “After you.”

          “D e p r e  s s i n g – I like it,” Lily decided, sliding a couple of coins in and flipping to the songs. She looked at Garrett sidelong, then over her shoulder. “Who’re you here with?”

Inclining his head slightly, he tossed a grin her way before glancing back towards the track listings. It was hard to judge anything by the title, since there were no lyrics to go along with most of the melodies, but once you spent enough time in this place, you started recognizing the tunes once they began to play. “No one.” The answer came all too easily and he found himself backtracking to appear slightly less pathetic. “I’m picking up dinner for my parents,” he explained with a clearing of his throat. “You?”

         Lily always stopped at the jukebox twice whenever she went to Carla’s diner: on her way in, to ensure that she sat through the best of the worst music and again, on her way out, to ensure that everyone else sat through the worst of the worst music. Having finished her pancakes and paid her bill, it was time for that second stop. Emptying her pockets onto the table, she picked out all the change and carried it over to the jukebox, inserting the coins one by one and selecting a (bad) song to go with each. Generally, the closest thing she had to an audience for this was a masochistic waitress or two. But today, there was somebody else.           “Do you have a request?”

Garrett was walking into the diner when Lily was getting ready to leave. Because he was going to be waiting for the takeout order his parents had called in for at least fifteen minutes, he veered towards the jukebox in order to save himself the suffering of the same song twelve times. Resting an arm on top of the player and squinting down through the smudged glass, he nodded. “Yeah. Why do Fools Fall in Love followed by Bye Bye Love.”

Lydia laughed from her stomach. “Falling asleep on an old couch isn’t an adventure, Garret.” She didn’t even think breaking into the farm would be a real feet. It was sneaking into a low security, empty place so they could pet harmless animals. But she knew that her thirst for danger exceeded Garret’s. She needed to ease him, and almost everyone else, out of their comfort zones.

“Sure it is. I’ve gone to far away lands in my sleep here.” Some of his dreams were more mundane, like simply living somewhere other than this town or getting his work printed somehow and sharing it with the Revolutionaries under a pseudonym, but in others, he visited the far away places he read about. They seemed more interesting than a farm with a bunch of animals that were only going to be killed for their inedible school lunches anyway.

“ Nothing’s unfortunate about homework.” She replied, sounding jovial enough. Claudia tries to brighten her eyes , speak excitedly but nothing much comes of it. “Well, there was one book that had dissected the entire Corinthians. It was interesting. You read much ?”  

Garrett could only blink at her statement about homework. If he had to do one more math problem or read one more Bible passage, he felt like his eyeballs were going to fall out of their sockets. “I haven’t read that,” he admitted with a wrinkle of his nose. It wasn’t the sort of thing he’d go searching for, really, but he made a mental note about it anyway. If he couldn’t find something more interesting in their library, that wouldn’t be the worst thing he could read in Salvation’s. “Oh, yeah.” To emphasize this, he held up the worn Bible that was always in his bag. It was only so battered because it spent so much time in his bag, but to an outsider, it might appear that he’d really put an effort into it. “But I like fiction more,” he conceded, because that seemed more of the type of answer Claudia was looking for, though he didn’t know why. And he wanted to.

the words stung faith. death or whatever happened when those men in suits came to take you away wasn’t worth it. it couldn’t be. maybe it was boring, but at least it was safe. safe from everything. it frustrated her that some people didnt– couldn’t– wouldn’t understand that. “that’s what the devil wants you to think,” she retorted, though still wrapped up in her own God-fearing thoughts, it wasn’t as convincing as she usually made it sound. with a sigh, she looked up, finding his critique to be right. “barely,” she admitted. “i jumped. that’s probably why it’s messed up.”

“The devil was an angel once,” Garrett pointed out with a knowing look. Just because he wasn’t strong in practicing religion anymore didn’t mean that he hadn’t read the good book. He had. Countless times. He’d looked for reasons and explanations and always came up short. But he knew the Word, even if he didn’t follow it. “Maybe he was really banished for rebelling. We’ll never really know.” His word choice was careful. Though he was calling out the Word, he wasn’t stating his agreement either way. Garrett was always careful. After a moment’s hesitation, he asked “You want a hand?” Her arms were full and she’d likely cause more posters to drop if she said no, but at least he’d offered.

Out of her many friends in the Revolutionaries (and even a few in the Safe), Anna was sure that very few of them didn’t know about her affinity for literature. Any kind of literature, approved or not. So, when Garrett slipped her a book with a cover that read ‘Art in Salvation’ without saying anything about it, she was pretty sure it was nothing of the sort. A small grin lit up her face as she grasped it with both hands and held it down in front of her, her arms covering up most of it as they walked along. As soon as she got a moment she would shove it in her bag, or maybe she’d flip through the first few pages just to see what it was. “Great,” she repeated. “It’s not too far. Only a mile, I think. Although you probably already knew that.”

Anyone who appreciated books as much as Anna did couldn’t be bad. He’d initially been wary of slipping her the banned books, but after a few hushed conversations about Steinbeck and Salinger and watching the way her eyes lit up whenever he slipped her one of the forbidden texts, he’d stopped considering it a risk. As long as they covered their tracks, it was doable. Hands in pockets, he walked by her side and shook his head. “Geography isn’t really something they teach,” he replied. And even if it was, he knew the landmarks and roads by traveling them with his friends, not by staring at a nonexistent map of the town. “But I know it’s enough time for a stick of gum to lose its flavor.” Garrett produced a package of the stuff from an inside pocket of his bag and popped a piece into his mouth before offering one to Anna. The mint flavor tricked him into thinking that the school’s lunch had been enough and that the dull food wasn’t a problem. He blew bubbles as they went, enjoying both the company and the view.

Freddy’s laughter was louder than it should be. He couldn’t help it. It was funny. Chris, taking a bite out of his own mother’s arm because the Bible told him he had to. Faith Potts tearing out a jugular vein. (If anyone would be down to eat another person, it would probably be her. Her devotion to God almost scared Freddy more than Pastor Brown himself.) 

When Freddy laughed, Garrett did, too, without ever really meaning to. His chuckle echoed his friend’s bark of laughter and only faded after Freddy’s had. He didn’t know what had flickered through Freddy’s head, but the shift in his mood was almost palpable. Garrett’s fingers loosened around the bottle more easily than with some others and he stretched his legs out across the room, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy couch. “Pastor Brown came into Joe’s today. All he bought was a pound of salt.” He hadn’t bothered to ask why. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But here, sitting in the safety of the House, he could joke about it. “Maybe to ward off our girls. Witches used to lure their victims with beauty, you know.”