Gwendy’s Final Task

I’m very sorry about the fire. I’ve spoken with Brian Gardener at the CR Sheriff’s Department and he’s going to make sure no one gets within shouting distance of your house. I also rode out and talked to your father, so he wouldn’t have to hear about the fire on the news. He was pretty down, but I told him the insurance folks would fix it up as good as new. (Although they never do, which we both know.) He asked me to give you all his love.

Now to the real reason I’m writing. I hope you won’t be mad, but the last few years I’ve been doing a little digging of my own about Ryan and his mysterious trip to Derry. A man can only fish so much, you know! You never asked me to get involved, but I figured it was worth a shot. Worst I could do was burn up some gas money and waste a little time. I guess I would’ve made a pretty crummy detective because for the longest time I wasn’t able to find out much of anything, and I sure didn’t get any help from the local constabulary. They basically told me to buzz off. I decided to take one more shot at it last week. No luck. Until, that is, I was getting ready to come on back to the Rock. I stopped to gas up at one of those no-name extra barrel stations, the kind where a fellow actually pumps your gas and washes your windshield. This guy was named Gerald “Gerry” Keele, an oldtimer who was sort of refreshing because he didn’t have any of that (excuse the language) “fuck you and the horse you rode in on” Derry attitude. I asked my questions, showed him Ryan’s picture, and right away he said yeah. He especially remembered the GWENDY FOR SENATE stickers, because there were three of them plastered across his back bumper.

That makes Gwendy wipe away a tear.

He said Ryan asked directions to Bassey Park because he had to meet a man there, by the big Paul Bunyan statue. Keele laughed and said, “I can give you directions, but you won’t find Big Paul because he’s long gone.” Ryan jotted down the turns and drove off. I thought that was all I was going to get, but then Keele said something else. I was recording on my phone, so I can give it to you exactly. He said, “There’s an abandoned warehouse past the gas station, on the corner of Neibolt and Pond. Soon as your boy paid and left, an old Chrysler pulled out from behind that warehouse. Big as a boat it was, and an ugly green color that almost hurt your eyes to look at. I could be wrong, but I almost thought it was following the man you’re asking about.”