Wonkette Presents THE SPLIT: Chapter Twenty-Eight

In which Lorinda and Stimpy enter Revelation.

There were two arrow signs at the entrance to the parking lot. The one pointing right said RESIDENTS, the left one said VISITORS. Lorinda steered left. The lot was huge and nearly empty. Suspended over the ticket booth was a flashing sign, proclaiming:

WELCOME TO REVELATION, TEXAS!

THE PLACE TO BE WHEN IT’S TIME TO GO!

“WE WHO ARE STILL ALIVE AND ARE LEFT

WILL BE CAUGHT UP TOGETHER

WITH THEM IN THE CLOUDS

TO MEET THE LORD IN THE AIR.

AND SO WE WILL BE WITH THE LORD FOREVER”

1 Thessalonians 4:17

Lorinda parked the car several rows away from the ticket booth. She and Stimpy grabbed the automatic weapons and headed for the booth. Halfway there Stimpy stopped and stared beyond the ticket booth at the flashing lights of the wide arch over Revelation’s entrance.

“Hey,” said Lorinda. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been here twice before,” he said. “With …”

“With Roger.”

“Right,” Stimpy said. “Roger. We worked together for a long time. Did everything together, really. Roger. We never used our real names. It would have been weird if I’d called him Roger. Like I was his mom or something.”

“Well,” she said, “today you’re here with Lorinda. I mean Margaret.” She took his arm and guided him to the ticket booth. There was a scraggly looking teenager inside, his upper lip dusted in green, intently playing some kind of raucous game on a small screen. They watched him grimace and lean one way and another, his thumbs working rapidly to the tinny rasp of recorded explosions.

Stimpy slapped his card down on the counter. “Two,” he said.

The kid, surprised, looked up. It took a moment for his head to clear so he could do his job. “Show your guns please,” he said.

Lorinda and Stimpy lifted up their guns. The kid was impressed. “Crushers!” he said, approvingly. “Righteous! So, it’s $500 each. You paying both?”

“That’s right,” Stimpy said.

The kid scanned Stimpy’s card, slid it back, then pushed a flat, thin phone-size device toward Lorinda. Reciting his memorized script, he said: “This is your Rapture pager. You flip up that little red door and press the red button hard if you’re certain the Rapture is upon us. It sets off sirens, fireworks, explosions, everything we need to get God’s message out, praise the Lord. There’s a $10,000 fine for a false alarm and a $2,500 fine for not returning your pager when you exit. Look up here.” Lorinda looked at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Security scan,” he said. He pointed to a camera mounted above his head, then reached far to his right to push a button.

“Fuck,” Stimpy said under his breath.

The kid grabbed another pager and shoved it toward Stimpy. “This is your Rapture pager—”

Stimpy cut him off: “I heard the speech.”

“Okay,” said the kid. “Look up.” Stimpy looked up, then looked down and rapidly shook his head as the kid reached for the button. The kid didn’t notice or didn’t care. “May you have a blessed time in Revelation,” he said as Stimpy practically shoved Lorinda toward the Revelation entranceway.

“What was that about?” Lorinda asked in a harsh whisper.

“I forgot the camera. I should have had you dodge it. I forgot what I was doing. I was … I don’t know. Like, overcome by emotion. Maybe I’m getting too old for this.”

“Maybe your best friend …” Lorinda let the thought hang in the air. She took his arm again. “Maybe you just need to let your emotions out."

They walked under the flashing archway and into what looked like a more wholesome version of Libertyville’s midway. Perky young families strolled among dozens of storefronts and booths, which displayed everything from embroidered trucker caps to lavishly decorated Bibles to survival gear. Waving from a flagpole above one booth was a big banner saying BE SURE GOD SEES YOU IN THE RAPTURE EXCITEMENT! In the booth was a display of what seemed to be long underwear or pajamas covered with tiny flashing lights. Another booth, this one offering strobing electric jewelry, bore a sign declaring: STAND OUT FROM THE CROWD AND GET GOD’S ATTENTION AFTER YOU LOSE YOUR CLOTHING. Lorinda’s eyes were flitting from one display to the next. “Keep your head down,” Stimpy said. “They have your picture.” Lorinda guiltily complied.

She was about to ask where they were going when a short, primly dressed woman, with long, graying, ponytailed hair, fell in with them. Throwing her arms around Stimpy, she kissed him on the cheek, saying, “Terrible, terrible, terrible. Their goddam guns.” She let go of Stimpy and looked him and Lorinda up and down as they walked. “And look at you with your guns. A couple of real gangsters.”

“Margaret,” said Stimpy, “this is Wilma.”

“Wilma Flintstone,” the woman smiled, shaking Lorinda’s hand. Then, to Stimpy: “We didn’t have time to prep for you. I think we have a safe hotel room. For a couple of days, max. We’re trying to find you a car.”

“They got her picture at the ticket booth,” Stimpy said.

Wilma sighed. “Damn. Okay, we’ll have Archie change what you look like. Don’t worry, we’ll get you back on the road as soon as we can.”

A grizzled, hobo-looking old man — who reminded Lorinda of the old men she’d seen in the alleys of Austin and that decrepit mall parking lot — came out from behind a flashing-jewelry booth and headed toward them. “Religion is the public-facing bureaucracy of capitalism,” he growled. “God is an alias for ‘money.’ Aristotle said that.” As he passed them, he whispered something to Wilma before he continued on his way, muttering about the Bible being a work of fan fiction.

“That’s the Reverend” Wilma said. “There are lots of reverends in Revelation, but he’s THE Reverend, and he’s with us. Used to be an actual pastor here before …” She laughed. “Before he saw the light.”

“They don’t lock him up for talking like that?” Stimpy asked.

“I think they feel sorry for him,” Wilma said. “They still see him as one of their own. They think he went mad — which I suppose from their point of view, he did. Anyway, they’re too focused on the end of the world to care what he says. Probably if he stopped saying those things they’d get suspicious.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said he checked your hotel room and it’s secure.”

Lorinda smiled. “So he may be crazy, but he’s not stupid.” She tried to scope out her surroundings while keeping her head down. “There are no bars around here?” she asked.

Stimpy and Wilma just laughed.

“I miss PumpJack’s,” Lorinda said to herself.

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PREVIOUSLY in THE SPLIT!

Chapter One. In which we meet our heroine and her dainty little gun.

Chapter Two. In which Lorinda demonstrates her bartending virtuosity.

Chapter Three. In which our heroine receives a promotion and prepares to celebrate.

Chapter Four. In which our heroine proves herself an immoral citizen of the CCSA.

Chapter Five. In which our heroine goes to church.

Chapter Six. In which Lorinda contemplates her future, ignores Pastor Doug, and gets something unexpected from Emmie.

Chapter Seven. In which Lorinda learns something that threatens her big dream.

Chapter Eight. In which our heroine freaks out.

Chapter Nine. In which our heroine says the forbidden word as an unwelcome visitor arrives.

Chapter Ten. In which two unpleasant men perturb our heroine.

Chapter Eleven. In which our heroine seems to have found a solution to her problem.

Chapter Twelve. In which that black truck follows our heroine all the way to Austin.

Chapter Thirteen. In which Lorinda lashes out.

Chapter Fourteen. In which our heroine gets a taste of life in the big city.

Chapter Fifteen. In which our heroine meets a fellow bartender and has a drink.

Chapter Sixteen. In which Lorinda once again takes a swing with her little pink gun.

Chapter Seventeen. In which our heroine prepares to escape.

Chapter Eighteen. In which our heroine gets in a truck with a couple of slightly scary strangers.

Chapter Nineteen. In which our heroine learns that she’s got a long way to go.

Chapter Twenty. In which our heroine spends a night in a gas station.

Chapter Twenty-One. In which our heroine learns about the enclaves of the CCSA.

Chapter Twenty-Two. In which our heroine learns way too much about the enclaves of the CCSA.

Chapter Twenty-Three. In which our heroine experiences liberty run amok.

Chapter Twenty-Four. In which our heroine’s escape is disastrously derailed.

Chapter Twenty-Five. In which our heroine finds herself back at the gas station.

Chapter Twenty-Six. In which Stimpy, on the road to Revelation, reveals Ren’s real name.

Chapter Twenty-Seven. In which our heroine manages not to crash the car as she learns more about CCSA enclaves.

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