Junction : A Novel

WWW.BWESTONROOK.COM I first met Deems Ellison in Grand Junction, Colorado while serving my two-year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At the time, however, I didnt know his real name. I knew him as Elder Andrew McConkie, the standoffish young missionary who was transferred into my district and put in charge of training a brand new Elder. I only knew him for a short time and he never seemed to be anything more than a rock in my shoe an annoyance that I couldnt seem to shake. Back then, I had no clue of the grand adventure that was going on right under my nose. But I guess thats the point; I wasnt supposed to know. I didnt learn what really happened until eight years later when Deems Ellison unexpectedly telephoned me at my home in Sacramento, California and asked me to meet with him. He had discovered that I fancied myself a writer and he wanted me to help him tell this story. I jumped at the chance. There was nothing for me to lose. The Sacramento Union, the oldest daily in the West, was shutting down its presses forever and I would soon be facing unemployment lines. My first attempt at writing a novel had failed miserably, culminating in a dozen dog-eared copies of my manuscript stacked in my closet. But I think the biggest reason for my eagerness to work on this project with Deems Ellison was my overwhelming curiosity. I had a lot of questions about what happened in Grand Junction during August of 1988. So when Mr. Ellison, one of the few people who knew the real story, called me, eager to spill his guts, the temptation was too great to resist. It was like finding expired milk in the back of the refrigerator -- I knew it was going to stink, but I just couldnt resist taking a whiff. Ellison wanted to meet me back where it all happened. So I told my family I needed a vacation alone and I made tracks for Grand Junction. It amazed me how little his appearance had changed. His face was still youthful and his silvery hair was close-cropped, just as it had been in the mission field. However, the more time I spent with him, the more I realized I had misjudged him when I was his District Leader and knew him as Elder McConkie. He was actually a very likable person. In fact, I found myself admiring him and envying the excitement he had seen. Unfortunately, I think the Deems Ellison of today is a man filled with regret. Not the average kind of regret that comes from doing something wrong, but the agonizing enigma of wondering how things could have been if only he had done something right. Still, he seems to look back on our time in Grand Junction with a fondness and sentimentality that even I cannot fully share. We got connecting rooms at the Westgate Inn and I spent nearly every waking hour with my former annoyance for a week, recording his story and making outlines for this book. He shared with me a thick binder full of notes and reminders from that time. He said he had been planning to tell this story for a long time, but wasnt sure how he was going to do it until he discovered my occupation. What follows is Deems Ellisons story in essentially his own words taken from my interviews with him and his journal notes. One more thing: my attorney tells me that I would face a stack of lawsuits unless I present this story as a work of fiction. So it is fiction. Elder Andrew McConkie never served in the Colorado-Denver Mission. Deems Ellison is a fictional character, as are all of the others in this book. If any people or events in this story resemble real life, it is just a coincidence. Everything in this book is just a figment of my overactive imagination. B. WESTON ROOK