The Sookie Stackhouse Companion

to do if we were attacked? Mind-read someone to death?
    “This isn’t any mob situation,” Sam said, and he laughed. “I finished high school there when my dad retired from the military, and Mindy and Craig did even more of their growing up in Wright than I did. People will get used to the new things in their world, even the people in a conservative little place like Wright. These are just regular folks. They’ve known us for years.”
    Pardon me if I felt a tad skeptical.
    I saw the black Focus one more time, and then I didn’t spot it again. I told myself that there were hundreds of cars on this section of interstate, and a hell of a lot of them were going west like we were.
    The landscape got less and less green, more and more arid. Trees were smaller, rocks were more plentiful, and there were cacti in the scrubby brush. After the turnoff south, towns were fewer and farther between. They were small, and the stretches of road were lined by fences of all kinds. This was ranching country.
    Wright looked very normal when we rolled in. The highway ran through Wright going north–south, and it was the main drag. In its stretch through Wright, it was called Main Street, which made me smile. It was a one-story town. Everything was low and long and dusty. I looked at the people we passed, the gas stations, the Sonic, the Dairy Queen, the McDonald’s. There were three motels, which seemed excessive until I remembered that Sam had told me about the river west of the town. The trailer park was full, and I saw a few people walking west, flip-flops on their feet and towels over their shoulders. Early vacationers. We passed a rental place for canoes, tubes, rafts, grills, and tents.
    “People can grill on the sandbars in the river,” Sam said. “It’s fun. You take your ice chest out there, a tube of sunblock, drink your beer, and grill your meat. Get in the water whenever you want.”
    “I wish we had time to do that,” I said. Then, thinking that might sound like a complaint or a hint, I said brightly, “But I know we’re here to get this wedding done! Maybe you can bring Jannalynn over here sometime later in the summer.”
    Sam didn’t respond. I’d seen Jannalynn be aggressive, physical, even savage. But surely she had a softer side? I mean, it couldn’t be all skull-cracking, bustiers, spike heels, and kill-my-enemies. Right?
    It was a warm feeling, seeing the town where Sam had done a lot of his growing up. “Where’s your school?” I asked, trying to picture the young Sam. He turned east to take me by the little high school where he’d played sports and been named Mr. Yellowjacket. Yellowjacket Stadium was about the same size as Bon Temps’s Hawks Stadium and in much better repair, though the old high school had seen better days. The town library was brand-new, and the post office was proudly flying the flag. It whipped in the warm wind.
    “Why’d your dad decide to retire here after he left the service?” I asked. “What do people do here besides cater to tourists?”
    “They ranch, mostly,” he said. “A few of them farm, but mostly the land’s too rocky, and we don’t get much rain. A lot of people make the bulk of their income during the tourist season, and they just coast along on odd jobs the rest of the year. We get a big influx of hunters when the tourists run out, so that’s a major source of income, too. My dad commuted to Mooney, where Doke and Mindy live now. He had a job doing security for a big plant over there. It manufactures wind turbines for wind energy. Doke works there now.”
    “And you-all moved here instead of Mooney because . . . ?”
    “My dad wanted us to have the whole small-town experience. He thought it would be the best way to finish out my teen years and to bring up Mindy and Craig. Some of my mom’s family was still living in Wright then, too. And he loved the river.”
    I looked at the people coming in and out of the businesses we passed. There were lots more brown faces than I was used to seeing, though even Bon Temps had experienced an upsurge in its Spanish-speaking population in the past decade. Some were identifiably Native American. There were very few black faces. I’d really traveled somewhere different. In addition to the differences in skin color, there were more people in western-style clothes, which made sense. We’d passed a rodeo ground on our way into town.
    We took a left when we were within sight of the south boundary of the city