On Waverly Street, everybody knew everybody else. It was only one short block, after all—a narrow strip of patched and repatched pavement, bracketed between a high stone cemetery wall at one end and the commercial clutter of Govans Road at the other.
The opening line of the novel sets the stage for a key component of the story to come: normalcy. Everything here speaks normalcy, to the everyday and to the mundane. Nothing going on here folks, nothing to see…move it along. It is the thematic equivalent of “it’s quiet…too quiet.” Normalcy is boring, stasis is undramatic; something must happen. And, indeed, something does.
It was after seven on a dismal January evening, and most places had closed. One window, though, glowed yellow—a wide expanse of plate glass with CHURCH OF THE SECOND CHANCE arching across it in block letters.
Ever seen a movie or TV show where a character in the throes of desperation is wandering aimlessly? Lost and confused, suddenly he sees something and on the soundtrack his vision is accompanied by a heavenly organ and perhaps a bright light seemingly coming from nowhere illuminates the object he sees; there is every indication that this is a moment that just changed that character’s life. Well, put on the organ and brighten your screen, because this quote is that moment.
“It’s the religion of atonement and complete forgiveness. It’s the religion of the Second Chance.”
In response to Ian’s question of what kind of “cockeyed” version of religion the Church of the Second Chance is trying peddle, the church’s pastor gives an answer that offers a clue to the novel’s dominating them. It would be giving too much away to tell why Ian is seeking atonement and forgiveness, but suffice to say that his search is the heart of the narrative trajectory.
“You think I’m some ninny who wants to do right but keeps goofing. But what you don’t see is, I goof on purpose. I’m not like you: King Careful. Mr. Look-Both-Ways. Saint Maybe.”
We have a title. Daphne is addressing Ian, the novel’s protagonist. The list of nicknames she delineates provides insight—like a brief capsule summary—into the basic character construct of Ian while also providing some self-reflection into her. Why is Ian the Saint of Looking Both Ways before crossing the street? Only the rest of the book can answer that question.
