Thomas and Niko in the City of Trees - Chapter 20
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A cross stands watch over this town. It actually looks kind of majestic up there on that flat rock if you don't think too much about the undertones. A lot of people have tried to have it taken down over the years. I get it. Better to represent none than only one, and all that. But here's the thing: You get up there and look at it really close, and you see that it's kind of a pathetic old metal structure, all rusty and beaten-in. And the side that faces the city is made of these narrow plastic panels that the light shines through, turned yellow and brittle by the sun. You'd think they would have bothered to a bury a cable underground to power it, but instead a thin, droopy wire runs over from a nearby utility pole. The whole things lights up pretty well at night, but there's always a stubborn fluorescent bulb flickering and buzzing more than the rest.
Not everything holds up to close inspection, is what I'm trying to say. I bet that's true of most towering monuments to faith in this worldโjust to be fair to the old cross. I haven't seen any of the others yet, so I can't be too sure, but I do have plans to travel the world sometime. Maybe one day, I'll come back and let you know whether I was right or wrong.
Table Rock is the name of the place where the cross was put up. You can see the whole city from up there. You can stick around and watch the sun go down. It's a pretty popular destination for locals and visitors alike, but still a fairly chill place for Thomas to take me on that last night. Anyway, that's what he does. Without telling me where we're going, he drives us up through all those old foothills neighborhoods. Neither one of us is saying much. Even when I catch on as to where we're going, I stay quiet, because the silence just feels like part of the moment, and I don't want to mess it up.
He does look over at me quite a bit. He takes my hand for a few seconds at one point, then lets go. He's my best friend friend in the whole world, I'm telling you. No matter what happens to us this fall, I don't think that will ever change.
We get up there and he parks the car. We walk over the edge and sit with our legs dangling fifty feet over a sea of brush. The sun is pretty low, but it's still hot as hell.
Thomas is laughing quietly to himself.
I look over at him. "What?"
"I don't know, man," he says, "I was just thinking." He takes in a long breath, lets it out. "I guess it's not such a dumb town after all."
"No," I say. "Not really."
We're both laughing now.