(“Honorable Mention”, After Dinner Conversation Writing Competition)

The evangelists set the tent up somewhere near a Christian theme park called Heritage USA in Fort Mill, South Carolina. The park had been open for nearly a year, and the crowds had ballooned grotesquely, which spelled probable success for the old preacher hunting for the faithful.

To Dale, standing outside his camper and straddling the messy periphery of religion, the park’s very existence and its incredible popularity were two more pieces of evidence he could hold up to prove that the majority of middle America had too much time and too much money on their hands.

Which made him feel less bad, maybe even righteous, about being just one more person trying to take it away.

“You gonna help, or what?” Tina asked, pushing folds of sweaty hair out of her face. She was struggling to set up the camper’s awning, stretching it as far as it would go while simultaneously trying to jam the poles into the gravelly dirt below.

“Or what,” Dale teased, pushing his sunglasses up on his nose. He walked over to where his wife stood, and the two of them managed to wrangle the faded, delicate awning into the perfect position. To some veteran campers, an awning didn’t need to be perfect, just serviceable. To Dale and Tina Thrombus, anything less than perfect would mean that their car-bound customers would get trapped in the drive-thru, which was simply not an option.

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