“The Doom Statues” — Chapter 35

The old-timer working the register at the marina is of little help to them. About the only thing useful they get from him is when Jeremy asks him how long Stokely Farm Road has been routed in this direction. He has a long white beard which reaches the plastic countertop, a mess of sweaty hair the same shade tucked under a red trucker cap. So he certainly looks like he should know. Maybe in retrospect Jeremy shouldn’t have supplied him a readymade answer by suggesting, “twenty-five, thirty years?” To which the old man had nodded and said, “somethin like that, somethin like that.”

Yet he is either reluctant to discuss or is just plain ignorant about any reason the former route was closed. He also claims no knowledge of the artist’s retreat in any of its guises, or the Allensworth incident or the fire. Jeremy is reduced to asking if this lake is manmade, and if so how long ago.

“Well now yes, it is, you know, they dammed that river — really no more than a crick — up there a ways. But now I couldn’t attest as to the year.”

“Do you at least know its name? Because I’ll tell ya, none of the maps I’m consulting seem to know the first thing about it. Granted this is really deep in the holler and they’re not up to date everywhere, but…not to mention why would they reroute a perfectly good road to go over the lake, instead of leaving the one that was already beside it…