What's Big Lonesome about?
by Jim Ruland
genre:
Literature & Fiction
description:
It's an overstuffed quesadilla of a short story collection. There's some historical fiction that ranges from the Blitz in Belfast to the Chicago Haymarket Riots. There's some crime fiction. At least one sailor story. A stalker's diary from her time in the crawlspace of a stripper's house. Dick Tracy, Popeye the Sailor, and the Big Bad Wolf all make appearances. There's a conflicted catechism about a messed up love triangle. And, in the title story, a 19th century orphan gets mixed up with a clairvoyant school teacher and an Indian named Tonka who may or may not be a robot.
chapters
chapter 1:
Excerpt from "Night Soil Man"
Excerpt from "Night Soil Man"
chapter 1
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updated 06/28/07
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4040 characters
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The thing is none of them want to shoot the animals.
A week ago the Germans bombed the city for the first time. The blitz killed eleven people. A deputation of citizens from the Antrim Road petitioned the Corporation to have the specimens removed or eliminated. That’s what they called them: specimens. An air raid, the committee argued, was one thing, dangerous animals unleashed on the streets of Belfast quite another. On Thursday the Corporation announced its decision: destroy the animals.
Alex was furious. He raged all day, slamming doors and kicking over trash bins. Dick went off to tend the animals and didn’t come back to the office until well past closing. They agreed to carry out the orders, but come Friday no one was up for the task.
--Let’s enjoy our weekend in peace, Alex had said.
--That go for the Germans, too? Simon asked.
--Feck the Germans, Dick spat.
Alex has a bottle in the truck. By the time they get to the zoo they are properly polluted. They leave the truck near the gates and stagger up the escarpment with the rifles slung clumsily over their shoulders. They look like gravediggers on a lark.
They start at the paddock where Billie the Asian elephant is kept. Billie is the zoo’s main attraction. The Belfast Corporation bought her from a traveling circus after she slipped her chains in Bombay. There are no chains at the Bellevue Pleasure Garden; Billie is free to roam her paddock as she pleases. She’s a natural talent. When the mood strikes her, she gets up on her hind legs and balances on one massive foot, trumpeting proudly. Sometimes Simon brings her droppings home for Ma’s garden, and her tomatoes are the pride of the Shankill.
Dick loves Billie. He says he can read her just by looking at her eyes. One look at Dick tells them he isn’t ready for this, so they move on to the tiger cages. Both the Bengal tigers, Jasmine and Fulaka, are out by the pool.
--Who wants to go first? Alex asks.
No one volunteers. Simon decided back at The Bridge to keep his gob shut. Once they put down the animals he’ll be out of a job, but if they put a good word in for him there’s a chance he can stay on with the Corporation without having to go back to the trams.
--Maybe we should all fire at once, Dick says.
--Aye, Simon agrees. Like a firing squad.
Alex nods at the soundness of the plan.
They unpack their rifles, load the weapons and throw the bolts home. Alex tests his sling. Dick holds the rifle like he’s considering pitching it into the pool. They smoke fags while they decide which cat to shoot first. Jasmine is the more ornery of the two. Fulaka is a layabout who on some days can scarcely be bothered to feed himself. Jasmine’s the one. Sorry Jasmine.
They aim and fire. The reports echo through the zoo. Over in the aviary, the birds make an awful row, rising up into the caged air with nowhere to go. Jasmine twitches her tail. Fulaka doesn’t wake up, the bastard.
--I wasn’t even close, Alex confesses. His face is red from anger and embarrassment.
--I didn’t see where mine went, says Dick. Did you?
Simon shakes his head. His shot went high, but he keeps it to himself.
--Let’s have another go, Alex says.
Simon’s aim is off and his shot goes high again, higher than before. Alex looks suspiciously at his rifle. Dick is disgusted with himself, the whole sad affair. He sets his rifle down and sits on the kerb.
--I can’t do this, he says. I can’t even feckin’ see straight. What if we wound but don’t kill? The people of Antrim Road with their bleedin’ deputations and committees can feck off as far I’m concerned.
Alex makes a study of the sky, squinting up at the places where the stars will soon peek through.
--It’s getting dark, he says. Maybe we should wait ‘til morning.
Dick and Simon agree without hesitation. They put the rifles back in their cases. It feels as if a terrible burden has been lifted, a heavy yoke cast off. Jasmine yawns, ignorant of her fate.
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A week ago the Germans bombed the city for the first time. The blitz killed eleven people. A deputation of citizens from the Antrim Road petitioned the Corporation to have the specimens removed or eliminated. That’s what they called them: specimens. An air raid, the committee argued, was one thing, dangerous animals unleashed on the streets of Belfast quite another. On Thursday the Corporation announced its decision: destroy the animals.
Alex was furious. He raged all day, slamming doors and kicking over trash bins. Dick went off to tend the animals and didn’t come back to the office until well past closing. They agreed to carry out the orders, but come Friday no one was up for the task.
--Let’s enjoy our weekend in peace, Alex had said.
--That go for the Germans, too? Simon asked.
--Feck the Germans, Dick spat.
Alex has a bottle in the truck. By the time they get to the zoo they are properly polluted. They leave the truck near the gates and stagger up the escarpment with the rifles slung clumsily over their shoulders. They look like gravediggers on a lark.
They start at the paddock where Billie the Asian elephant is kept. Billie is the zoo’s main attraction. The Belfast Corporation bought her from a traveling circus after she slipped her chains in Bombay. There are no chains at the Bellevue Pleasure Garden; Billie is free to roam her paddock as she pleases. She’s a natural talent. When the mood strikes her, she gets up on her hind legs and balances on one massive foot, trumpeting proudly. Sometimes Simon brings her droppings home for Ma’s garden, and her tomatoes are the pride of the Shankill.
Dick loves Billie. He says he can read her just by looking at her eyes. One look at Dick tells them he isn’t ready for this, so they move on to the tiger cages. Both the Bengal tigers, Jasmine and Fulaka, are out by the pool.
--Who wants to go first? Alex asks.
No one volunteers. Simon decided back at The Bridge to keep his gob shut. Once they put down the animals he’ll be out of a job, but if they put a good word in for him there’s a chance he can stay on with the Corporation without having to go back to the trams.
--Maybe we should all fire at once, Dick says.
--Aye, Simon agrees. Like a firing squad.
Alex nods at the soundness of the plan.
They unpack their rifles, load the weapons and throw the bolts home. Alex tests his sling. Dick holds the rifle like he’s considering pitching it into the pool. They smoke fags while they decide which cat to shoot first. Jasmine is the more ornery of the two. Fulaka is a layabout who on some days can scarcely be bothered to feed himself. Jasmine’s the one. Sorry Jasmine.
They aim and fire. The reports echo through the zoo. Over in the aviary, the birds make an awful row, rising up into the caged air with nowhere to go. Jasmine twitches her tail. Fulaka doesn’t wake up, the bastard.
--I wasn’t even close, Alex confesses. His face is red from anger and embarrassment.
--I didn’t see where mine went, says Dick. Did you?
Simon shakes his head. His shot went high, but he keeps it to himself.
--Let’s have another go, Alex says.
Simon’s aim is off and his shot goes high again, higher than before. Alex looks suspiciously at his rifle. Dick is disgusted with himself, the whole sad affair. He sets his rifle down and sits on the kerb.
--I can’t do this, he says. I can’t even feckin’ see straight. What if we wound but don’t kill? The people of Antrim Road with their bleedin’ deputations and committees can feck off as far I’m concerned.
Alex makes a study of the sky, squinting up at the places where the stars will soon peek through.
--It’s getting dark, he says. Maybe we should wait ‘til morning.
Dick and Simon agree without hesitation. They put the rifles back in their cases. It feels as if a terrible burden has been lifted, a heavy yoke cast off. Jasmine yawns, ignorant of her fate.
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