Page 33 - Billy Graham in Heaven

26 Billy Graham's Glorious Jam
“By having fun with infinite suffering,” said Cathy, giving Jake a nasty look. She stalked off down the path. He watched her move with powerful, smooth strides.
“Let Her Worship go alone,” Jake thought. Then he shot air between the gap in his two front teeth. “Who am I kidding?” he thought. And jumped up, trotting after her.
They walked far too fast down the steep path, holding onto tree limbs and trunks, stomping from rock to root, dirt to grass. It was only luck that kept them from a turned ankle or worse, and when they reached the car they were both too tired to be emotional.
Cathy gave Jake a quick little hug. “Let’s just be for a while,” she said with a brittle smile. Fine with Jake.
So they drove down the Parkway silently, through several dark tunnels and around countless curves. Soon they saw the large and rapid French Broad River winding north. Near the Parkway’s bottom a stately, 18th-century French chateau emerged, surrounded by miles and miles of forest stretching north to the 20th century Asheville skyline. The chateau was the Biltmore House, the largest privately-owned home in America!
Cathy grunted in confusion, her eyes going round with wonder. “How can such beauty be the source of such ugly, gory war?”
Jake shrugged. “His...” he mumbled, but stopped. He started to say “history,” but instead drove silently over a high bridge crossing the river and then through an isolated relatively flat section of the Parkway. The speed limit was a graceful 35 MPH and Jake was going 30. “Ah yes, my road,” Jake thought. Actually everyone in America owned the Parkway, but apparently only Jake and Cathy were