The Night Parade(102)

“Steroids for Bugs Bunny,” David said.

“In a way,” said Tim, “though they’re totally harmless. No chemicals, no injections. It’s just been a process of trial-and-error, cross-pollenating various seeds and allowing them to germinate under different environmental conditions. It’s all natural.”

“You’re really doing all this stuff?” David said. “I’m impressed.”

“Oh, that’s just two-thirds of my operation.” Tim raised his glass, which contained a cocktail of fruit juice and his pungent liquor. “That moonshine you had earlier?”

“Dandelions and pinesap,” David recalled.

“I’ve got quite the distillery set up.”

“So you’re bootlegging, too?”

“This isn’t Prohibition, man.”

“Not that he has a license,” Gany added. She winked at Tim.

“What are you, the whiskey police?” Tim said. “Anyway, I’m not quite ready to roll the stuff out to consumers, not just yet. It’s still a bit overpowering.”

“We use it to light the bonfire in the yard,” Gany commented. “Not joking.”

“Yeah, it’s basically pure ethanol with natural ingredients added during the distillation process,” Tim said. “The first few batches were just awful.”

“As opposed to that firewater you gave me earlier,” David said.

Tim shrugged. “Hey,” he said. “It did the trick, didn’t it?”

“You make it right here in the house?”

“No. I’ve got a cabin a few miles farther up the mountain. It’s pretty remote.”

“In the event you’re raided by the ATF, I suppose,” David said.

Tim winked at him.

“What’s the ATF?” asked Ellie.

*

Once their plates were cleaned, Tim and Ellie cleared the table and washed the dishes by hand in the sink. Gany remained at the table with David, speaking in broad strokes about her own life just to make conversation. When she mentioned a boyfriend in South Dakota, David said, “Oh, I just assumed you and my brother . . .”

At the sink, Tim guffawed. Gany shot him a sly glance, then reclined in her chair. She was sipping a dark red wine, having declined a glass of Tim’s home brew earlier.

“Do you remember that guy Applewhite?” Gany said. “The Heaven’s Gate nut who initiated that mass suicide in the nineties?”

“I remember seeing it on the news,” David said.

“That’s your brother.”

David laughed. “A cult leader, huh?”

“Oh, he hasn’t horse-whispered people into cutting their balls off and taking cyanide pills,” Gany said, “but he’s equally as charismatic.”

“So, where’s the rest of his sordid cabal?”

“Oh, they’re around,” Gany said. “It’s not like we all live in some big commune, you know. I’ve got an apartment back in Colorado.”

“Oh. I just assumed you both lived here.”

“Your brother would lose his mind if he had to share this wonderful estate with anyone but his shadow,” Gany said, shooting Tim a sidelong glance. “We’ve all just united in common beliefs, common thoughts. You don’t need to live under the same roof to share the same ideals.”

“What ideals are those?” David said. “Aside from raising rabbits and growing ferns, I mean.”

“We’re not afraid, for one thing,” Gany said, and for the first time since he’d met her, David heard her voice turn serious.

“Afraid of what?”

“The end,” said Gany.

“Hey,” Tim said to her as he dried a plate with a dish towel.

Gany shrugged. “What’s the big deal?” She turned back to David and said, “We’re resigned to the fact that this is it. The end is nigh, and all that. You’d be amazed at the peace that overtakes you once you surrender to the inevitable.”

David looked at Tim, who was staring back at him. “You’re Worlders,” David said.

“No,” Tim said firmly. “We’re not. Worlders are radicalized lunatics, bombing hospitals and praying for the annihilation of the human race. And even then, you’re talking about just a small subset of a larger whole.”

“But you both believe that Wanderer’s Folly is some sort of penance put upon the human race,” David said. “That mankind is meant to be wiped out.”

Tim flipped the dish towel over his shoulder like a barkeep. “Not exactly,” Tim said. “I believe that whatever is supposed to happen will happen. There’s no divinity behind anything, no supernatural motive. The goddamn zodiac hasn’t conspired to eliminate the human race. I just don’t see much hope out there anymore, David, and I decided a long time ago not to lose sleep over it.”

“So we live for each day,” Gany interjected. “It’s better that way. People are losing their minds over this epidemic, and it’s getting so you can’t tell who’s got the Folly and who’s just gone batshit f*cking crazy worrying about it.” She nodded toward Ellie and said, “Sorry for the language, sweetheart. But sometimes it’s the best way to get the point across.”