Radley is satisfied.  His wife adores him, his kids are doing great, he's got a steady job in his hometown.  What more could a man want?

Watching the other guys play basketball Mary with the white ribbons Worcester college Sleeping in on Sunday Hiding the candy he'd stolen

Why did Kyle show him that?  Is he the tower, the falling man, the lightning bolt?  Which is it?

He takes a step back, away from the card away from Kyle toward the couch.  He needs to lie down There's pressure all around him like falling in the pool like covering up that Penthouse he doesn't know what it's like yes he does he needs to get out he needs to get away but he can't forget all this he has to

"Kyle, you, I, don't"  He closes his eys but it doesn't help, he's still picturing it, he contains it it contains him you can't not think about things you can't pull yourself up I wish I could fly wish I was rich only losers wish for things sonny you've got to live in this world not up above it

He tries to push it away again, but you can't push without something solid to stand on.  He tries to organize his thoughts, but he can't find anything to organize them around.  And who is "he", anyway?  The kid who found a baby bird on the ground and broke its wing trying to put it back?  Who stole a whole bag of halloween candy off the ground, and blamed the fat kid no one liked? The guy who dreamed about fucking Mary Waller, but asked out her friend instead because it seemed like she'd say yes?  The kid who sat on the toilet for an hour trying to poop so he could do it right, and cried when he failed?  Who wants to drive to see Mount Rushmore and doesn't think he ever will? Who who who who who who who

Far away, outside himself somewhere, he hears a clap of thunder.  Dangerous.  A sliver of something he's forgotten the name of opens his eyes for him.  It's plain white above him, bright, and for a minute he can't tell if the brightness is him or not.  He tries to pull it closer, and suddenly there's movement.  A hand.  There's a difference between him and everything else, he realizes again, watching it.  It's his hand, not anyone else's.

That much, at least, he knows for sure.

That seems like it worked pretty well!

He puts the card back in his pocket, taking care not to look directly at it.  Nico's a lot more together psychologically than some small-town deputy could ever be, and he has Kyle(?)'s mind for a buffer just in case, but still.  He'll leave the cop where he's lying; watching him crack up he'd been thinking he'd lay a trail of clues toward to the basement but it hardly seems necessary, when the cop's friends show up they'll search the place just on principle, right?  Nico would.

And speaking of the cop's friends, now it's really really time to go; between them and that random bolt of lightning, he's spent as much time in this house as he cares to.  He'll peek out the window first, just in case, but if the coast is clear he'll just calmly walk to his car, get in, and drive over the grass around the cop car and away.  As soon as he's on the street he'll fish the cell phone out of the glove compartment: it's a pain in the ass to use out here where the cell reception is so bad, but his henchmen are still at Lake Winnipesaukee, and since he apparently can't show his face in this town he's going to need at least one of them here.  Where should he leave his real body in the meantime, so that it's still ready to hand for tomorrow?

Thinking furiously, he turns left on to route 27, and drives away.

The Following Morning

The Easter sunrise service at Good Hope Church is always well-attended.  People get out of the habit of coming to church through the year, get lost in their material lives, and then try to make up for it all at once by getting up before dawn on Easter morning.  That doesn't work, but it can be the start of something that does, so Pastor Reed never gives them a hard time.

It's not a day or a time for complicated messages.  He keeps it simple: Christ is risen, we live in the hope of the resurrection, the last enemy to be destroyed is death.  He puts the emphasis on "last" instead of "destroyed", this year, and lingers a little on the grief of the women before the tomb, and the fear of the disciples in the upper room.  He doesn't think people need to be reminded to be kind to the Merrills, or to support each other, but it will help to hear it anyway.  A lot of being a pastor is just helping people feel like being good is a normal thing to do.

This sermon isn't aimed at Sophie, particularly, but it kinda feels like it is. She and Kyle had been dating for almost four months when he disappeared, but no one knew except her and him. Mostly it was a secret from their dads, but the only way to keep a secret in Raymond is to tell nobody, literally not one single person, so they never did.

It would make sense if she were secretly grieving, but instead she's...not? She's not worried at all, actually? She's totally sure, in a way that she can't shake or explain, that she's going to see Kyle again.

She thought it was denial, at first. She's spent a bunch of time doing what she calls "standing outside herself", trying to walk around the feeling and get a look at it from different angles. It's so narrow and specific! Does she think he's going to come back and live in Raymond? She doesn't know. Does she think they're ever going to visit his treehouse again? No idea. Does she think she and Kyle are going to get married and have six kids? No, and she doesn't even want that with him, not now and maybe not ever. But is she going to see him again, and talk to him again? Yes, yes she is.

It doesn't feel painful, or frightening to think about. It feels like knowing a secret she can't figure out how to tell.

She wishes she could. His little sister Emily, especially, could really use some good news. Kyle would want Sophie to look out for her, since he can't right now, but every time she tries to imagine a conversation it goes so wrong. "Hi Emily, I know you a lot better than you know me because your brother talks about you all the time, and I just want you to know that he's not dead. No, I'm sure, I just can't explain why. How did I know him, given that he's a year older than me and not in any of my classes? Well, we were dating. It was a secret. We even had sex once! But it's not affecting my judgement here at all, promise!"

Ugh.

Sophie starts to feel bad about thinking about sex in church, but then she changes her mind. Thinking about talking about sex is different from thinking about sex, and anyway she was doing it to comfort the grieving, like the sermon said. And anyway she talked herself out of it.

The organist leads the congregation through the last hymn, then starts the outro.  Everybody clumps into little groups, mingling a little as they gather themselves to go out into the windy April morning and drive over to the school for the pancake breakfast.  The four Merrills, Sophie can see, are lingering by the outer door, talking with a friend of Mr. Merrill's.  Emily is, for the moment, off to the side and alone.

Sophie talks herself out of doing things a lot.  It's a bad habit, and she's trying to stop, except that stopping is really the opposite of what she wants to do, isn't it?  But you can't just "start", you have to start something specific.  Right now, with Emily, she should walk over and say...and say...

Mr. Merrill's conversation seems to be winding down.  Sophie's window is still open, but not for long!

If you can't come up with a good idea, just go with a bad one!

A test prep coach said that to Sophie's class last year, part of some advice about essay questions.  She meant it as a throwaway line, almost a joke, but Sophie's a little obsessed with it.  On tests she can apply it; in life it's harder.

She stands and watches the Merrills.

Emily might be watching back. She's got her hair down, dangling in front of her eyes, but she's facing the right way. What Sophie can see of her expression is stony.

Maybe she's mad at Sophie for some reason!

Shit, she thinks, and then oops, sorry God.

That's got to be projection. But still, she'll wait until the Merrills are safey out the door before she starts bugging her dad to leave. Her friends will be at the pancake breakfast; soon she can put this whole embarrasing incident behind her.

Aw, his daughter waited for him to be done talking to his friend Shiela before she asked to leave!

He raised a good kid.  He knew that already but it's still nice to see.  Sure, they can go get some breakfast.  He'll check his phone on his way out and see if his wife texted, but probably she's still asleep.  He'll have to see if he can make her up a to-go box, pancakes don't really work for that but maybe they'll have something...