The Walk by Richard Paul Evans

Author:Richard Paul Evans [Evans, Richard Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literary
ISBN: 1446437523
Google: uQFpOTMEt9sC
Goodreads: 7187395
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 2010-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which hath loved us, and hath given us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace . . .

Good hope through grace, I thought. I closed the Bible. Love and consolation? In a sudden flash of anger, I threw the book against the wall. Love, hope, and grace? What a joke. I walked out of the place, wishing I hadn’t stopped.

I walked nearly a mile before I felt calm again. But the anger was still there. The emotion had always been there, concealed beneath a thin veneer of civility. The chapel had just exposed it.

I turned my attention to the road. The highway straightened a little, and I could clearly see the mountains in the distance. They were white with clouds and snow pack. Trees jutted up through the snow-covered slopes like beard stubble. The mountain was my destination. That’s a really long way to walk, I thought. I shook my head, amused by my stupidity. This was nothing compared to where I was going. Crossing the country, I’d face a half-dozen or so mountain passes that would make this one look like a pitcher’s mound.

I had walked about 12 miles when I reached the town of Sultan. The only way into the town was over a narrow metal bridge with no pedestrian lane and cars screaming by at 50 miles per hour or more. I wasn’t sure what to do. It looked like a sure way to get hit. For the record, I didn’t fear dying. I feared almost dying. They’re not the same thing.

I puzzled over what to do for a moment, then found a solution. There was another bridge running parallel to the highway bridge. A train bridge. There was no almost dying with a train. Trains don’t swerve.

I climbed over to the bridge and began walking across, slowly picking my way between the heavy rusted rails and the wood trestles. The bridge was about 70 yards across, and travel across it was slow. Still, I reached the other side without the least excitement. I wondered if the track was even used anymore. Part of me was disappointed. I stepped off the tracks and walked into the town.

I stopped for lunch at a deli. I’m not sure that the deli even had a name, which, in retrospect, was probably a wise choice on their part. I ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and a Coke with a small tub of potato salad. Even as hungry as I was, I ate very little. The food was awful. This was one of those meals that if you had to choose between eating the food or razorblades, you would stop to weigh the pros and cons. Before I left the deli, I took out a Pop-Tart and then ate it as I walked.

The next town I came to was called Startup, a “blink and you’ll miss it” community that seemed to consist mostly of mobile homes and tall grass.

As Bill

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