Thou Shalt Not Road Trip

THOU SHALT NOT

ROAD

TRIP

ANTONY JOHN

DIAL BOOKS

an imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

DIAL BOOKS

An imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Published by The Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014, U.S.A.

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland

(a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

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New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue,

Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand,

London WC2R 0RL, England

Copyright © 2012 by Antony John

All rights reserved

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Book Design by Jasmin Rubero

Text set in Garth Graphic Std

Printed in the U.S.A.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

John, Antony.

Thou shalt not road trip / by Antony John.

p.   cm.

Summary: Sixteen-year-old Luke Dorsey is sent on a cross-country tour to promote his bestselling spiritual self-help guide accompanied by his agnostic older brother and former girlfriend Fran, from whom he learns some things about salvation.

ISBN: 978-1-101-56176-8

[1. Faith—Fiction. 2. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 3. Christian life—Fiction. 4. Authors—Fiction. 5. Brothers—Fiction. 6. Automobile travel—Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.J6216Th 2012

[Fic]—dc23

2011015535

To Ted Malawer and Liz Waniewski.

Everybody needs an A-team. You’re mine.

Table of Contents

Saturday, June 14: Lessons 15: 7–12

2:20 P.M.: Lambert–St. Louis International Airport, St. Louis, Missouri

5:50 P.M.: Los Angeles International Airport, Los Angeles, California

6:10 P.M.: Somewhere in Los Angeles, California

7:15 P.M.: Born-Again Bookshop, Manhattan Beach, California

8:20 P.M.: Born-Again Bookshop, Manhattan Beach, California

9:50 P.M.: Freshman Residence Hall, University of Southern California, Los Angeles, California

Sunday, June 15: Mishaps 9: 15–17

8:10 A.M.: Freshman Residence Hall, University of Southern California, Los Angeles, California

10:55 A.M.: Freshman Residence Hall, University of Southern California, Los Angeles, California

12:05 P.M.: Somewhere in north Los Angeles, California (I can see the Hollywood sign)

2:20 P.M.: The Christian Warehouse, Los Angeles, California

2:45 P.M.: Parking lot of the Christian Warehouse, Los Angeles, California

5:25 P.M.: I-40 at Ludlow, California

11:10 P.M.: Tailfin Motel, Route 66, Arizona

Monday, June 16: Realizations 6: 5–9

5:30 A.M.: Tailfin Motel, Route 66, Arizona

6:30 A.M.: Peach Springs, Arizona

9:40 A.M.: Havasupai Trail, Supai, Arizona

11:50 A.M.: Havasupai Lodge, Supai, Arizona

3:20 P.M.: Havasu Falls, Supai, Arizona

6:10 P.M.: Havasupai Lodge, Supai, Arizona

11:20 P.M.: Havasupai Lodge, Supai, Arizona

Tuesday, June 17: Mishaps 3: 4–9

8:40 A.M.: Supai Café, Supai, Arizona

11:10 A.M.: The Havasupai trail, Supai, Arizona

3:15 P.M.: Route 66, west of Seligman, Arizona

7:25 P.M.: The Good Samaritan Bookstore, Flagstaff, Arizona

8:30 P.M.: The never-ending signing line at the Good Samaritan Bookstore, Flagstaff, Arizona

8:50 P.M.: A coffee shop, Flagstaff, Arizona

9:35 P.M.: Crater Hotel, Flagstaff, Arizona

Wednesday, June 18: Lessons 12: 17–21

9:20 A.M.: Somewhere east of Flagstaff, Arizona

11:50 A.M.: Continental Divide, New Mexico

12:15 P.M.: Continental Divide, New Mexico

7:00 P.M.: Converted Bookstore, Albuquerque, New Mexico

8:05 P.M.: Converted Bookstore, Albuquerque, New Mexico

8:50 P.M.: Hotel Lobo, Albuquerque, New Mexico

Thursday, June 19: Lessons 25: 13–15

8:20 A.M.: Albuquerque, New Mexico

10:10 A.M.: Santa Fe, New Mexico

12:55 P.M.: Parking lot, Santa Fe, New Mexico

5:15 P.M.: The MidPoint Café, Adrian, Texas

6:58 P.M.: The Goodly Shepherd Bookstore, Amarillo, Texas

9:10 P.M.: Panhandle Hotel, Amarillo, Texas

Friday, June 20: Mishaps 11: 3–7

9:00 A.M.: Just outside Amarillo, Texas

1:55 P.M.: I-40, somewhere in Oklahoma

2:20 P.M.: Somewhere strikingly hot, Oklahoma

3:30 P.M.: Somewhere astoundingly hot, Oklahoma

7:25 P.M.: The Divine Depot, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

9:10 P.M.: The Divine Depot, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

9:50 P.M.: Hotel Okie, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Saturday, June 21: Realizations 4: 22–25

6:00 A.M.: Behind the Hotel Okie, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

7:50 A.M.: Parking lot, Hotel Okie, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

9:55 A.M.: Route 66, somewhere in Oklahoma (I think)

10:05 A.M.: Catoosa, Oklahoma

2:50 P.M.: Route 66 Hotel, Springfield, Missouri

4:05 P.M.: On the way to Inspiration Bookstore, Springfield, Missouri

4:40 P.M.: Inspiration Bookstore, Springfield, Missouri

5:10 P.M.: Inspiration Bookstore, Springfield, Missouri

5:35 P.M.: Inspiration Bookstore, Springfield, Missouri

6:10 P.M.: The alleyway outside Inspiration Bookstore, Springfield, Missouri

7:50 P.M.: I-44 at St. Robert, Missouri

Sunday, June 22: Realizations 8: 12–17

9:50 A.M.: The Dorsey Residence, St. Louis, Missouri

10:45 A.M.: The Dorsey Residence, St. Louis, Missouri

11:05 A.M.: The Embree Residence, St. Louis, Missouri

11:15 A.M.: Half a block away…

12:05 P.M.: United Christian Church, St. Louis, Missouri

12:50 P.M.: United Christian Church, St. Louis, Missouri

3:10 P.M.: United Christian Church, St. Louis, Missouri

Acknowledgments

SATURDAY, JUNE 14

Lessons 15: 7–12

7. For there were two brothers. And yea, one was shorter than the other, and weaker. 8. And though he bestowed upon his big brother gifts of kindness and thoughtfulness and love, yet did the taller boy mock him, lamenting, “Why art thou so short? Art thou a leprechaun?” 9. And the shorter brother was too much afeared to speak. 10. So the stronger boy laughed, and cried, “What art thou good for? What can thou do that cannot be done far better by a boy of true stature, whose mind and body are strong?” 11. And though he was still afeared, yet the smaller boy recalled the events of the previous evening, and so girded his loins and spake thus: “Remember thee, ’tis easier for a short man to pass through the eye of a cat flap when he
misseth curfew, and thereby to avoid parental detection and retribution.” 12. And the taller brother knew that it was true, and shutteth up.

2:20
P.M.

Lambert–St. Louis International Airport, St. Louis, Missouri

Letitia is biting the inside of her mouth. Her left eyebrow is arched. I get the feeling she thinks my e-ticket is a fake, but I don’t panic. After all, Pastor Mike—legendary host of TV’s
The Pastor Mike Show
—called my journey a “pilgrimage.” How can a
pilgrimage
go wrong before it has even started?

“Your bag’s thirty-two pounds over the limit,” says Letitia, smacking her gum.

“I’m sorry?”

“You can be as sorry as you like, honey. Don’t change a thing. That’ll be an extra seventy-five bucks.”

I remove the case from the scale and open it carefully. Inside are dozens of hardback copies of my book—
Hallelujah: A Spiritual Chronicle of a Sixteen-Year-Old St. Louisan
. My editor complained that the title lacked “punch,” so the cover just says
Hallelujah
.

I transfer ten copies to my second case, and return the original case to the scale.

“Still twenty-two pounds over,” says Letitia.

The man next in line groans. He mutters to the lady beside him, but I don’t hear what he says. I won’t try to hear either, because eavesdropping is sinful, and I need to be good. Plus, I don’t think he’s being complimentary.

I move more books to the second case and the scale shows that it’s now just under the maximum allowable weight. I smile at Letitia, who rolls her eyes and drums her fingers. I drag the second case onto the scale.

“Twenty-eight over.”

Mental math tells me I won’t be able to avoid going over the limit, so I pull out the credit card that my publicist, Colin, gave me for all book tour expenses.

Letitia studies it along with my ID. “Wait! Not
the
Luke Dorsey?”

I glance over my shoulder in case there’s another sixteen-year-old Luke Dorsey beside me.

“I saw your interview on
The Pastor Mike Show,
” she gushes. “The passage you read about the two brothers—that inspired me. I know you said it was written for kids and all, but my sister’s taller than me and she thinks she’s the big boss lady, so I said ‘Just you wait ’til you need to get through the cat flap, sister.’ And you know what, honey? She
shutteth up
!”

Letitia reaches under her desk and retrieves a copy
of my book. The cover is worn, as though she has read it several times. I guess I ought to be impressed, but instead I’m just uncomfortable.“Would you autograph it for me?” she asks, voice shaking.

“Uh, sure.”

It’s not the first book I’ve signed, not by a long shot, but I’m still not sure what to write. In the end I settle for:
To Letitia, who embraces the light.

She nods like a bobblehead doll, and hands back the credit card without charging a fee. I’m about to accept it too, but stop myself just in time. “I have to pay,” I tell her.

“Oh, forget about it.”

“I can’t. It’d be stealing. And stealing is—”

She gasps. “A sin, yes. It was evil of me to suggest it. Please pray for me.” She runs my card through the machine and hands me the slip of paper to sign.

“I, uh, pray for everyone,” I say—kind of a lame response, but she seems satisfied.

“Are you done yet, book boy?” asks the impatient guy behind me.

Letitia casts him a withering look. “Hey, mister, you shut your Goddamned mouth. This boy here’s Luke Dorsey.”

The heckler looks shell-shocked—his mouth flaps open and shut like he has been struck dumb. When
he repeats my name, a silence descends upon the mass of travelers. Their lines part like the Red Sea.

As I shuffle between them, people reach out and touch my new blue blazer. I think Pastor Mike mentioned that something like this might happen, but that doesn’t make it any less weird.

By the time I reach my parents at the security checkpoint, I’ve crossed myself ten times and signed three more copies. I’m sweating so badly, I take off my blazer and place it beside my backpack. All around me, people continue to stare, but now they’re checking out my parents as well. Mom and Dad are almost sixty, but look even older. They’re dressed in their Sunday best, even though it’s Saturday. Most people probably figure they’re my grandparents. Happens all the time.

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