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477 pages, Hardcover
First published May 3, 2016
"We've come this far."
At this Carl snorted.
"What? Sully said.
"Nothing," Carl said. "I was just thinking about Napoleon invading Russia."
Both Sully and Raymer blinked at this.
"Also the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition and the Vietnam War," Carl continued. "Not one of those clusterf*cks could truly commence until somebody said, What the hell. We've come this far."
Truth be told, it did take me a while to get back into the story again, and I would have liked more of Sully overall, but before long, I was hooked on Russo's writing and the kooky fun-loving characters from Nobody's Fool.
Get ready for plenty of laughs, a few crazy visits to the cemetery, and a scary prognosis. We also encounter a creepy psychopath, a vile, disgusting piece of sh*t loser and more than one shocker along the way.
HILLDALE CEMETERY IN North Bath was cleaved right down the middle, its Hill and Dale sections divided by a two-lane macadam road, originally a colonial cart path. Death was not a thing unknown to the town’s first hearty residents, but they seemed to have badly misjudged how much of it there’d be, how much ground would be needed to accommodate those lost to harsh winters, violent encounters with savages and all manner of illness. Or was it life, their own fecundity, they’d miscalculated? Ironically, it amounted to the same thing. The plot of land set aside on the outskirts of town became crowded, then overcrowded, then chock-full, until finally the dead broke containment, spilling across the now-paved road onto the barren flats and reaching as far as the new highway spur that led to the interstate. Where they’d head next was anybody’s guessSo begins this tale of the fictional town Bath, a small settlement near New York, at the foothills of the Adirondacks, where the living inhabitants are as present in the grave yard as the dead ones. If people did not drove over someone's grandmother's face seeking easy parking near the charming flat grave markers in Dale, to the annoyance of the now late Mrs. Beryl Peoples herself, they were seeking enlightenment and answers for their uprooted lives by talking to their loved ones buried there. Many of the town's mysteries were hidden six feet under. It is as though the living souls simply could not function without the input of the previous generations residing there.