The Pedestal
Page 35
We’re doing the right thing.
Arthur may love us or hate us for it; only time will tell. But sometimes doing the right thing comes with a tax, and you just have to grin and bear it. Because without the truth, without an honest acceptance of what has been, we’re all destined to repeat our mistakes.
“What is it?” he asks curiously, his fingers emerging with a small device between them.
I swallow thickly, my tongue suddenly a pile of sand in my mouth. “It’s a NanoPrint reader.” I want to tell him how rare a device this really is, that once upon a time, law enforcement agencies might’ve been pretty upset to find one in my possession. But that’s not the message I want to convey to my son. What I’m trying to share with him exceeds monetary value or novelty, even the thought behind the gift; what I want to share is something so basic that people too often overlook it, though it’s the most important thing of all.
Arthur glances at me with raised eyebrows, and I have to smile. It’s the same look I get whenever I bomb on a Christmas present, one that seems to say: Wow, it’s a reindeer sweater ... with an LED nose—just what I’ve always wanted.
“That’s not all, look in the bottom.”
His gaze abandons the reader in his hand for a moment and returns to the box. He tips it to its side and a tiny bit of metal tumbles onto the table and bounces to a stop.
“Whoa, is this what I think it is?” His eyes are bright and furiously curious, just like when he was a kid. They flicker to my wrist and back to the tiny implant between his fingers. It may be small, but it’s the greatest gift I can give.
He looks at me with a wary frown, and again I feel the flutter of nerves. “But I thought they were all reformatted?” he says. Mitzy swallows loud enough for me to hear.
This is the part I’ve been dreading the most. How can I explain myself honestly, knowing just how bizarre it will surely sound? What sane person would believe that I had a dream—a dream so powerful and convincing that, upon waking, I immediately rushed to the kitchen and cut open my wrist like a crazy person? And that days later—against all odds, defying logic itself—my far-fetched dream came true? “Mine’s a little glitched, I guess,” I finally say. It’s not untrue—it’s merely an abbreviation of a more convoluted truth.
Arthur glances at his mother and then back to me, eyes guardedly intrigued. Mitzy squeezes my hand and I feel her excitement surge into my skin. “So, what exactly is on this thing?” he wants to know.
“The truth,” I answer in a firm but kind voice. “The plain, unwashed truth, son.”
Although my name appears by its lonesome on the cover, this book isn’t the product of my efforts alone. Writing and refining it required a great deal of time and commitment from others.
I’d like to take a moment to thank Meghan Pinson with My Two Cents and her sidekick Mark Moore for their tremendous editing contributions, Giovanni Auriemma for his killer cover design, my generous beta readers (of which there are simply too many to mention), Gary Neece (author of Cold Blue and Sins of Our Fathers) for his selfless mentorship and my family and friends for their continuous prayers and support.
Speaking of support, I must single out my brilliant wife, whose patience, understanding and uncanny intuition have never dwindled. I’m a blessed man.
Finally, thank you Jesus Christ for changing my life. Unlike Wilson Abby, I’ve had the pleasure of recognizing God’s steadfast presence. When I think of all He has done for me, I bend under the weight of my gratitude. There is no sweeter burden.
Daniel Wimberley is a professional web developer, moonlighting writer, and self-proclaimed voice of the dork. Well, the voice of a dork, anyway. He isn’t smart enough for the fraternity of nerdhood, yet he’s helplessly drawn to it like an ewok to the Starship Enterprise.
Daniel lives with his wife and children near Tulsa, Oklahoma. He enjoys website programming and integration, audio and video production and a host of similar pastimes that are sure to lull you to sleep.
For more useless trivia about the author, visit danielwimberley.com, or you may email him directly at geek@danielwimberley.com.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Acknowledgements
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Acknowledgements