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Rebel Navarro house

Titusville, Virginia

Saturday night

It was the middle of the night and the house was quiet. A quarter moon shined through the window and the air was cool, a slight breeze stirring the curtains. It was a perfect summer night and he was in his own house and his own bed, but he couldn’t sleep. He thought again about his talk with Cartwright. Had he spooked her enough to make another mistake? Was forging his signature the first?

Tash jerked awake.

“Uncle Rebel?”

Rebel pulled Tash closer, said slowly, “You thought it was a church, Tash? A weird-looking church? Really big?”

“Yes. And when Dad went outside I saw the sun and it was morning and it was already hot.”

A strange-looking church? Could it be possible?

“Yes, yes! That’s it. How did you know?”

“No, Uncle Rebel, I’ve only seen it in the dreams. I’ve seen Dad there every time.”

“I never saw a car,” Tash said, his voice slurred. Rebel said nothing more. He heard Tash’s breathing even into sleep.