Chapter 8In less than thirty-six hours, I was back on the road. A supplier changed Blake’s hauling schedule. She turned around partway to Chicago, got a good night’s sleep, and with a few days free, she was eager to spend at least some of them hauling me back down south.
“We should bring the half a gate back,” I’d suggested standing naked at the window looking out at it while making travel plans with Blake on the phone and thinking of Ezra, Ewan, and Pennsylvania.
“Aww. You don’t want it?” Blake asked.
“I want it. I love it, but I just have this feeling it misses its other half, like Pennsylvania would miss Ewan or Ewan Pennsylvania.”
“Even after what Ezra said?”
I’d tried searching out some news regarding the supposed horrors at their house via the World Wide Web. Surely, there would
