More recently—in Cypress Grove and Cripple Creek—he has conjured a small town somewhere near Memphis, where John Turner—ex-policeman, ex-con, war veteran and former therapist—has come to escape his past. But the past proved inescapable; thrust into the role of Deputy Sheriff, Turner finds himself at the center of his new community, one that, like so many others, is drying up, disappearing before his eyes.
As Salt River begins, two years have passed since Turner's amour, Val Bjorn, was shot as they sat together on the porch of his cabin. Sometimes you just have to see how much music you can make with what you have left, Val had told him, a mantra for picking up the pieces around her death, not sure how much he or the town has left.
Then the sheriff's long-lost son comes plowing down Main Street into City Hall in what appears to be a stolen car. And waiting at Turner's cabin is his good friend, Eldon Brown, Val's banjo on the back of his motorcycle so that it looks as though he has two heads.
"They think I killed someone," he says. Turner asks: "Did you?" And Eldon responds: "I don't know."
Read more about James Sallis here here.
