They stood in the darkness of China Pit, smelling the dank exhaled breath of the earth, listening to that faint roar, looking at David Carver, who had brought them here.
They stood in the darkness of China Pit, smelling the dank exhaled breath of the earth, listening to that faint roar, looking at David Carver, who had brought them here.
“Whose father?” David asked them.
“Our father,” Johnny said, stepping easily onto the road of the old prayer, as if he had never been away. “Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come—”
The others joined in, Cynthia, the minister’s daughter, first, Mary last.
“—thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.”
Through the amen, Cynthia continued on: “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever, amen.” She looked up with the little twinkle Johnny had come to like quite a lot. “That’s the way I learned it—kind of a Protestant dance-mix, y’know?”
David was looking at Johnny now.
“Help me do my best,” Johnny said. “If you’re there, God—and I now have reason to believe you are—help me to do my best and not weaken again. I want you to take that request very seriously, because I have a long history of weakening. David, what about you? Anything to say?”
David shrugged and shook his head. “Said it already.” He let go of the hands holding his, and the circle broke.
