EPILOGUE: Escape From Boston Part III (Saturday 11/20)

The Valley of the Shadow of Death, or, Pennsylvania

(To best experience the Invent-Ory start at chapter 1 and go forward through time)

Chapter 1: Masks (2/25/20)

I'll look for you in old Honolulu /

San Francisco or Ashtabula /

You're gonna have to leave me, now I know /

But I'll see you in the sky above /

In the tall grass in the ones I love /

You're gonna make me lonesome when you go

Almost immediately after we crossed the border of Pennsylvania it began raining and the night was getting darker and darker.

The COVID warning signs on the highway were also increasingly darker. If we were needing to stop for any reason, we would need to test NEGATIVE for COVID or quarantine for TWO WEEKS. Which means if we were to get into an accident, we would, most likely, be stuck in isolation for two weeks by the completely berserk Pennsylvania Health Officials.

The Pennsylvanian Baphomet

We also would probably need to get jabbed with a swab up our noses (something I had never done and promised myself I’d never do.)

I’ll keep my brain/blood barrier intact, thank you very much.

Also, coincidentally I never got the wu-flu this whole time and do you know why? 

I never got “tested.”

I couldn’t stop praying: “Just get us to Ashtabula / Just get us to Ashtabula / Just get us to Ashtabula / Just get us to Ashtabula” over and over in my head.

I’ve driven so often in Pennsylvania and I cannot tell you how terrifying it is.

For one, every highway is just a four-lane highway and they are typically surrounded on both sides by the dense Pennsylvania forest . Also: semi-trucks and box trucks and, now—our lumbering, straining, moving truck—are packed together like convoys.

And my friend, who I mentioned had really just learned to drive, had to manage all of this. 

During a thunderstorm.

I kept barking at him until I realized how much it was stressing him out so I just silently, and continually, prayed.

Flashing COVID warnings over underpasses were really the only lights we could see as Pennsylvania’s highway system has almost NO LIGHTS.

I kept an eye on the blurring mile markers counting our way down, slowly but surely, to the Ohio border. 30, 20, 10… Please Lord let us get to… 

The Freelands.

And then, just like that, the rain stopped.

Overhead lights suddenly appeared on the cloverleaf exchanges. The highway suddenly was 8 lanes wide.

The gas prices were now immediately cheaper, so we finally decided to stop, and fill up, before heading to our hotel for the night.

There was a Burger King adjoined to the station (I love Burger King) and there, sitting at a table, was a large family of Amish people, with multiple children, completely mask-free and enjoying some burgers.

I fell to my knees, kissed the ground beneath my feet, and praised God for his deliverance.

Addendum: It just so happens I was checking in on what’s going in Boston these days just yesterday:

Literal demons.

Praise. 

The. 

Lord. 

In the next few days, light, and love and laughter would finally come back into my life and sane, rational, God-fearing folks would again surround me.

And, by the way, my friend, who was going to go back to Boston after the holidays?

He would stay in Tulsa.

Next week, we finally arrive in God’s Country. 

EPILOGUE: Escape From Boston Part IV (Sunday 11/21)

Addendum: Here is what goes on in Erie, Pennsylvania:

Libs of TikTok @libsoftiktok

🚨 Licensed counselor and sex therapist advocates for “MAPs” (minor attracted persons). She says they are “vilified” and “marginalized” and shouldn’t be referred to as pedophiles