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sending you out as Frodo this year!”
    Some of the troops started to chuckle and Joshua shouted, “Quiet in the ranks!”
    Ash laughed and I stepped on the gas to prevent a further escalation of verbal hostilities. I said, “Well, that was a new experience—wheelman in a drive-by taunting.
    And this is normal healthy brother-sister teasing, right?”
    “We’re just having fun.” My wife’s eyes were bright with merriment.
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    John J. Lamb
    “I’ll remind you of that when he gets even with you—
    and you know he will.”
    The first thing you see when coming into town from the east is the monument I mentioned a moment ago. It stands on a small traffic island in the middle of the road and is one of the most peculiar things I’ve ever seen—
    and that’s the opinion of someone who spent his adult life as a cop in San Francisco. The base of the monument is a stark four-foot cube of white marble upon which is mounted a full-size bronze sculpture of a Civil War musket, with its muzzle pointing skyward, closely flanked by two water buckets. A plaque says the statue commemorates a minor victory gained by local soldiers in 1864
    when they drove off some Union troops who’d torched the mill, and after that, extinguished the fire set by the Yankees. But as far as I’m concerned, the thing looks an awful lot like the magical marching broomstick with the water pails from Disney’s Fantasia and I can’t help but begin to hum “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” whenever we pass the monument.
    Although Remmelkemp Mill is the governmental seat of Massanutten County, it’s just about the same size as a football field with a population of maybe one hundred.
    The most impressive building in town is the County Courthouse and Administrative Center, which was built in 1908
    and stands on the south side of Coggins Spring Road. It’s a handsome two-storied Greek Revival structure, constructed of dark-red local brick, fronted by six tall Ionic pillars, and crowned by a whitewashed cupola. Dogwood trees surround the courthouse and the only jarring element to the picture is the new Sheriff’s Department and County Jail—a cheerless and oversized cement shoebox—
    attached to the rear of the complex.
    Other than the government buildings, “downtown”
    Remmelkemp Mill consists of six small businesses, the The Mournful Teddy
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    volunteer fire station, and Poole’s church. Garber’s grocery store is directly across the road from the courthouse and I turned into the parking lot, which, to my surprise, was crowded with vehicles. Fortunately, a car backed out of a space just as we were pulling in and I grabbed the spot.
    “I’ve never seen it this crowded before. What do you suppose is going on?” Ash asked.
    “Overflow parking for the flea market.” I pointed to a couple returning to their truck from the Apostolic Assembly, which was next door to the market.
    The man was carrying a DVD player and the smiling woman was fastidiously examining a brown suede-leather jacket that appeared brand new. I now understood why Deputy Barron had made the sarcastic response to Poole’s claim that the merchandise sold at his charity bazaar was junk. That, and the fact that there had to be about a hundred busy shoppers gathered around the sales tables in the church parking lot, made me very curious as to why he’d tried to discourage us from visiting the flea market.
    “Sweetheart, how much would a jacket like that cost at the Belk department store?” I nodded in the direction of the couple.
    Ash peered at the coat. “I don’t know, maybe two-hundred dollars—two-fifty tops for that one.”
    The man was now close enough for me to see the label on the front of the device. I said, “And a new Sony DVD
    player. Not bad for a yard sale.”
    “That is strange, now that you mention it. But I can’t believe that Pastor Marc would be up to anything dishonest.”
    “You’re probably right. But can you humor me and get the batteries while I