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“Ah, Jesus, wait until they find out why,” Mattingly said. “And they will. These days kids always do. Goddam Internet, goddam Facebook, goddam Tweeter birds.”
The Mr. Sunshine who’d sat beside his ex at the dinner table disappeared. Mr. Gonna Rain A Bitch took his place.
People were basically animals, he realized. Even with your mother and little brother dead, you had to eat and shit out what you ate. The body demanded it.
He would consider it deeply on long nights when sleep wouldn’t come: Terry helping the guy get up with his cuffed hands even as the spit ran down his cheek. Like something out of the fucking Bible.
“I don’t care. I saw him. His hair was short and black and standing up. His face was lumpy, like Play-Doh. He had straws for eyes.”
The professor said people had the mistaken idea that Poe wrote fantastic stories about the supernatural, when in fact he wrote realistic stories about abnormal psychology.”
The other end was attached to the branch of a hackberry tree like the one beyond Ralph Anderson’s fence, although this one was a rather more elderly representative of Flint City’s flora, having sprouted around the time an American bomber was dropping its payload on Hiroshima (surely a supernatural event to the Japanese who witnessed it at a distance great enough to save them from being vaporized).
She checked her Fitbit again and saw her pulse was now up to one-twenty. She chugged down the rest of her latte anyway. Living dangerously.
She would try to convince them, just the same. A person did what a person could, whether it was setting up gravestones or trying to convince twenty-first-century men and women that there were monsters in the world, and their greatest advantage was the unwillingness of rational people to believe.
She finished aloud, but in a whisper. “Please God, help me not to frack up.” She paused, then added, “I’m not smoking.”
Did no one have any better places to go? Yosemite? The Grand Canyon? Even the World’s Largest Ball of String would be better than a hole in the ground out here in Dry ’n Dusty Asshole, Texas.
