More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.” Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer Abroad
“That makes sense,” Jane said. “I saw your ad. I’m Jane Gardner and I live over on Swamp Road, but there isn’t any swamp there. I live right across from the big Baptist church, or what used to be one and is now a kind of dollar store.” Henry became rigid as stone. “The one where the preacher and his organist were caught fucking in a SUV in the rear parking lot?” Jane’s cheeks flushed red. “That’s the one.” “That bastard and that goddamn skank.” Henry’s comment embarrassed Jane a little, because she had been the fuckee, though she wasn’t an organist, just a church goer. She never corrected the
...more
In fact, now that she looked about the kitchen, the house for that matter, seemed shabbier than her own, as if it had once housed a large family and pets that had moved off suddenly and left Henry alone with a full cat box and no fresh coffee.
“You’re asking if I have trouble because of my eye, aren’t you?” “Well…” “A little. Is that going to be a problem? Are you one of those that judge people by their disabilities?” “I don’t know it’s a judgment, but I suppose it’s a consideration,” Jane said. “A consideration?”
Jane felt herself redden again, but even in the same moment, a wave of sympathy for Henry swept over her, as well as a similar wave of fear and caution. Henry seemed like the sort that at the drop of a hat could go off her nut. The kind of person that could shit a brick and call it Tuesday and make you agree.
The limper held up a finger, said, “The world will rue the day when the milk of human kindness was drained from the souls of the living, and the milk was replaced with vinegar and bile. So, said Jesus.” “He did not,” Terry said. “You made that quote up. Now go on or I’ll run you down.”
“Are you all right?” “What do you think?” Terry said. He sounded like a man suffering severe constipation. “I got so high up they made a seat belt announcement.
“I think one should live simply, don’t you?” Terry said. Henry looked about. “How simply?” “Obviously, you haven’t read Siddhartha,” Terry said. “You’re right, I haven’t.” “Henry Hesse. A writer for the educated, the thoughtful. He concluded that most of our unhappiness comes from wanting things we don’t need.” “I’m figuring his overhead was small,” Henry said. “Probably didn’t have a shitter that was about to fall through the floor with him riding it.” “It’s a philosophical book. I don’t think anything will be gained tonight by a meaningful discussion if you aren’t about to take it seriously.
...more
Terry watched all of this with his arms crossed. “I would have expected the two of you to be nicer,” he said. “Life is just full of little disappointments,” Henry said. “Give me the three dollars.” Terry reluctantly handed it over as if he were the one being robbed.
“Yeah. And the Witness reads every word. Slowly. And they got one of those Yankee accents. Stressed vowels, or maybe it’s stressed bowels. I don’t know. But the Witness talks like that.”
“Astrology. You believe that too?” “Sometimes. If it fits.” “Ha.” Henry laughed this time. “I guess I’m just a mess, Jane. I like to have something to believe, even if it’s belief in a bad number. That doesn’t seem to go with my personality, does it?” “I don’t know I’m all that versed in your personality. But I think we all believe certain bullshit. True love. Magic numbers, astrological signs. Maybe we have to. Or some of us have to. I met a man that wasn’t worth the toilet paper to wipe his ass, and I insisted to myself that he was better than he was, and that what I was seeing daily was not
...more
“Hell, I don’t know. I just saw myself as a business woman. Turned out I was just someone wanted to be loved, by anyone. That’s what my business was, and it was bad business.”
Love this
“I’m not all that happy about it. My husband, he don’t like me taking the pill. Says it ain’t safe and ain’t what God intended, but he won’t wear a rubber either. Says it takes away from his pleasure, and god thinks a man ought to have his fun. It’s in the bible.” “I don’t think so,” Jane said, then thought, well hell, maybe it is. Anything that might work in a woman’s favor was generally absent of that so-called holy document.
As she was walking under the overhang again, the rain coming down, she felt a chill that wasn’t just from the wet and the wind. She recognized it as the horror of living so common a life that her death would be the end of all memory of her.
Wispy looked as if she had been born under a cloud of meth.
“I went on the road because of Jack Kerouac,” Clifton said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the counter and supporting his chin with his hands. “Who?” Henry said. “He was a writer back in the fifties that wrote about taking a road trip with a friend. He went everywhere and had all kinds of adventures. He typed his novel on a big roll of paper and wrote it quick and didn’t use as much punctuation as you might, and he had a lot of on purpose run-on sentences.” “I always got a C– on account of run on sentences,” Henry said. “It’s called artistic license,” Jane said.
The door opened and a woman came in. She had a big hairdo and it was thick and red. You could see she had green eyes even from a distance. They were like emeralds. She was wearing a short bluejean dress and a white shirt with blue butterflies on it and she wore it with a bluejean vest. She had on black cowboy boots with red toe explosions and the boots had higher heels than normal. She was maybe five seven and built well, like she had been designed by the gods. She rolled nicely when she walked.
Of course, there was the bite of alcohol in the air as well, and the kind of smell all bars have that’s undefinable. Jane thought of it as the stench of hopeful regret, whatever that was, but it’s what came to mind anytime she entered a bar.
Hopeful regret.
“I don’t know, Jane,” Ronnie said. “I mean, you came all the way, and I appreciate that, but there’s a certain decorum expected for something like this.” Jane stood there holding her sack with the toaster. “Decorum?” “Yes. It’s a wedding. Are those rhinestones?” “Talk about decorum, you’re wearing white like you’re a virgin. Hell, that child you got arrive by immaculate conception?” “It’s traditional,” Ronnie said. “You can’t just show up looking like you been standing on a street corner at the intersection of Hee-haw and Gooberville and expect to come in and join us. Everyone is wearing blue,
...more
“Listen,” Ronnie said. “No offense, but Jane, the rest of us have brought a certain sophistication to the family, and you’re still cussing and talking and dressing like a slut. That dress was an inch shorter, you’d have to powder another set of cheeks.” “Damn,” Jane said. “Really? I remember when you ate boogers, Ronnie. I remember when you used to shit outside behind the carport, right beside a big ole clay dirt daubers nest. You’d just squat, lean against the wall and let it fly.”
Jane took a moment to consider. Her eyes roamed over her sisters like she was seeing them for the first time. “And the rest of you, you’re nothing special either. You’re just country people like me, only you live in the north, and it’s cold up here, or will be soon, so I tell you what, ladies, I realized just this minute, I don’t have a damn thing in common with any of you. Maybe you have become sophisticated or some such. I don’t know. But I met a one-eyed, muscle-lady and a struggling country singer, and I knew both of them a lot less time than I’ve known all of you, and you know what? I
...more
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
“Well, I never,” Jennifer said. “I don’t doubt that,” Jane said without looking back, and made her way back to her room.
“I been feeling like I was someone else for a long time, since I was a kid, and now I want to be that other person that I think is really me.”
Today is just the first day. Nothing big happens today.” “I suppose that depends on how you look at it.” “Yeah. I guess so. You know, Jane. You’re my only friend.” “Think I’d be here if I had another friend?” Henry laughed.
They were quiet for a time, watching the silent TV. A meerkat had popped up out of a hole in the ground and was looking anxiously about. Henry was looking at that when she said, “You know. I been wanting this for a long time, and now I’m a little scared. Maybe a lot scared.” “I’m here with you,” Jane said, and took Henry’s hand and squeezed it. They sat that way for a while, holding hands, and finally a young woman in a light blue nurse outfit came through a door and called Henry’s name.
