He had killed before and after Church, yet being called simply a killer without the explanations attached somehow seemed horrible. Visitors to the college who never read his poetry can tell, just by gazing on his graceful death pose, why he had such a hold on the young people of his time. He met and married his wife there after her family migrated from Mississippi in the 1890s. He knew exactly what to do to have all the police go the other way, to put it on Church.
He looked around the van's interior and began to feel claustrophobic. Then, when Church was dead and no longer available for use as camouflage, the follower went underground, so to speak. I learned a lot from the stories my uncle, aunts, and grandparents told me: that no one is perfect but most people are good; I'll be out before you wake up tomorrow.
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