Book of Days_ A Novel - James L. Rubart [36]
Taylor caught and released another trout.
"So the Book of Days is a hoax?"
"You can find Web sites that prove Paul McCartney died in 1966 and was replaced by a look-alike, but I'm one of those who says he's still alive and well."
"So the Book of Days is a hoax."
"Not a hoax, a fable. A made-up story Jason and his followers have tried to turn into a religion.
"Do you believe in those books that say we can tap into a hidden power floating beyond our vision? That we can create our own reality just by thinking of it?
"Millions of people bought those books and believe the message. They are spiritually starving, so when a book like that arrives, promising to fill their empty souls, the unsuspecting lap it up like a starving cat in front of a bowl of microwaved milk."
Taylor turned from his casting and drilled Cameron with his eyes. "This Book of Days nonsense is no different."
"Then why keep the lid on it? Why not promote the idea that an amazing book that tells the future exists in your town and build the legend rather than keep it quiet? It would boost tourism."
"Because working, eating, and sleeping with contentment as your constant companion is not entirely bad." Taylor leaned his rod against his body.
"A great majority of the people who live in Three Peaks take for granted that they've known three-quarters of the town their whole life. They take for granted the gift of being able to call most of those neighbors in the middle of the night and see them come running to help."
Cameron nodded. "Community."
"Exactly. Yes, we could create T-shirts and posters and Internet ads telling people to come search for the legendary Book of Days and create a tourist trap that would rake in thousands daily. But it would become a trap for us as well. Do you think the Scots like the proliferation of tourists searching for Nessie? Some do, I'll grant you. The ones selling the T-shirts and DVDs wouldn't mind seeing even more seekers. But the majority of the towns around the lake would like to simply be left alone."
Taylor sat on a large boulder and set his fly rod across his leg as he worked on securing a new fly to his line. "I have some power in this town having been mayor a few times and having run the paper for more than a few years. And yes, I've tried to keep people from talking about the Book of Days or sticking their nose in where it doesn't belong so that we can keep our sleepy little town sleeping. If that makes me Machiavellian, so be it."
The confidence Taylor spoke with made his words ring true and washed away what little belief Cameron had held of the authenticity of the book.
The river between them seemed to grow wider. But he wasn't ready to give up without one last try.
"Before my father died, he claimed to have seen the book. He says he touched it."
"I'm sorry for your loss. I can't comment on what your dad saw or didn't see, and I don't know what has driven you to talk me today. But I do know people can be led down false paths when their souls are searching, and I would pray you do not take that path." Taylor finished tying on the new fly and began casting again.
His words settled on Cameron like a three-hundred-pound anchor. No one with a shred of rational thought would entertain the idea of a physical book that told the future and recorded the past existing on Earth. He himself had chalked his dad's words up to the disease until he'd become desperate.