The Soul Catcher - Alex Kava [39]
Later, when Justin told Eric about the miracle of the disappearing dent, his brother had practically snapped his head off.
“Some things require faith and trust. If you can’t accept that, you don’t belong here,” his brother had told him in a pissed-off tone he had never used with him before that night. Justin remembered thinking that Eric sounded like he wasn’t just trying to convince him. That maybe he was trying to convince himself, too.
Justin took a shortcut to the cafeteria, hopping over some sawhorses and wandering through a maze of stacked lumber and archaic construction equipment. He couldn’t help thinking that a couple of pairs of Father’s solid-gold cuff links could probably buy a small new forklift that would put the old John Deere tractor with the front loader and rusted plow hitched behind out of its misery.
He could smell the garbage dump and decided his shortcut wasn’t such a hot idea. No wonder everyone avoided this area. Just as he was weaving his way back to the main path, he saw several men digging behind the piles of garbage. Maybe they were finally burying the smelly mess. But as he stopped, he saw that they had several strongboxes they were lowering into the ground.
“Hey, Justin.”
He turned to find Alice waving at him over the stacks of lumber. She was making her way through the maze. Her silky hair glistened in the morning sun, and her clothes were crisp and fresh. No way were her socks still damp. Suddenly, he wished he had taken the time for that cold two-minute shower. When she looked up at him, her face immediately scrunched into that cute little worried expression.
“What are you doing, Justin? No one’s allowed back here.”
“I was just taking a shortcut.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here before someone notices.” She took his hand to lead him away, but he stayed put.
“What are those guys doing over there?”
She frowned at him, but put a hand to her forehead and squinted into the morning sun, taking a look at where he was pointing.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“So, you don’t know?”
“It doesn’t matter, Justin. Please, you don’t want to get caught back here.”
“Or what? No one will talk to me for weeks? Or no, maybe I won’t get my week’s ration of gummy rice and beans.”
“Justin, stop it.”
“Come on, Alice. Just tell me what those guys are burying, and I’ll go nice and quiet like.”
She dropped his hand, practically shoving it away, and suddenly he realized how stupid he was being. She was the only person he cared about, and now he was pissing her off, just like he seemed to piss off everyone else.
“They’re burying the money we collected at the rally last night.”
At the end of each rally, about a half-dozen wicker baskets were passed around for what Father called a “gratitude offering” to God. Those baskets usually ended up overflowing.
“Whaddya mean, they’re burying it?”
“They bury all the cash we take in.”
“They’re putting it in the ground?”
“It’s okay. They put mothballs in the boxes, so the bills don’t get all moldy.”
“But why bury it?”
“Where else would they put it, Justin? You can’t trust banks. They’re all controlled by the government. ATMs and electronic transfers—all of that stuff is just so the government can monitor and take your money whenever it wants.”
“Okay, so why not at least invest some of it, like in the stock market?”
“Oh, Justin, what am I going to do with you?” Alice smiled and patted his arm as though he had made a joke. “The stock market is controlled by the government, too. Remember reading in your history classes about the Great Depression?” She was using her calm teacher voice with him. At least the worry lines had left her face for the time being. “Anytime the stock market takes a plunge, it’s the government causing the decline, stealing people’s hard-earned money and making them start all over again.”
Justin hadn’t really thought about it before. He knew his dad got really pissed when he lost money in the market. Alice knew so much more about this stuff than he did. History had never been one of his strongest subjects.