The novel chronicles 50 years in the lives of two people who become involved with faith, religion and the supernatural. When the new minister comes to town, little Jamie Morton is excited. Almost everyone in the tiny Maine hamlet fell in love with preacher Charles Jacobs, his beautiful wife, or both of them. Things change all too suddenly when Mrs. Jacobs and her baby die in a gruesome auto accident. Half crazed, the reverend curses God, is banished from the town, and thereafter pursues successive supercharged careers as a sideshow huckster, a faith healer, and a mad scientist, while Jamie is involved with music and drugs, which ends after he is "saved' by Jacobs and his working with electricity. Now Jamie must find out how good (or vicious) his old friend has become: he suspects something sinister with the former reverend.
Pretty sure Duane is a relative of Helen's.
“Well, not him, exactly. Mom said he couldn’t because it’s too dangerous, but some guy. Maybe Duane Robichaud. He runs Brownie’s Store along with his mom and dad. He drove the nine-car at the Speedway last year, but the engine caught on fire. Dad says he’s looking for another ride.”
There was one visitor, though: me. I went on a Saturday afternoon, once more cutting through Dorrance Marstellar’s cornfield to evade the watchful eye of Me-Maw Harrington.
A stretch, but Georgia's first car sounds pretty damn close to Christine.
"Do you know what my father gave me when I got old enough for a driver’s license?” I shook my head. “A 1960 Plymouth with half the grille gone, bald tires, rusty rocker panels, and an engine that gobbled recycled oil by the quart.
De Vermis Mysteriis ("The Mysteries of the Worm") is first mentioned the short story Jerusalem's Lot.
“Oh, it’s known. Or was. In De Vermis Mysteriis, written in the late fifteenth century, Ludvig Prinn mentions it. He calls it potestas magna universi, the force that powers the universe. Prinn actually quotes Scribonius. In the years since I left Harlow, potestas universum—the search for it, the quest to harness it—has become my whole life.”
Charlie tells Jamie that he once worked at Joyland and describes a very familiar scene.
“When I invented the portrait camera—which is actually a combined generator and projector, as I’m sure you know—I did attempt to do both men and women. This was at a little seaside amusement park in North Carolina called Joyland. Out of business now, but it was a lovely place, Jamie. I enjoyed it greatly. During my time on the midway—which was called Joyland Avenue—there was a Rogues’ Gallery next to Mysterio’s Mirror Mansion. It featured life-size cardboard figures with cutouts where the faces belonged. There was a pirate, a gangster with an automatic, a tough Jane with a tommygun, the Joker and Catwoman from the Batman comics. People would put their faces in and the park’s traveling photographers—Hollywood Girls, they were called—would snap their pictures.”
Hugh describes a nightmare to Jamie, who recognizes it from the story The Monkey's Paw - which inspired Pet Sematary.
"By then she’s really whamming on the door, beating on it with both fists, it sounds like, and I’m thinking of this horror story we had to read in English when I was in high school. I think it was called ‘August Heat.’” Not “August Heat,” I thought. “The Monkey’s Paw.” That’s the one with the door-pounding in it.
References will be here!