Dan Padavona

“That’s the problem today. It ain’t the kids’ faults. It’s the parents who don’t trust ‘em enough to teach ‘em to fend for their own. Now I ain’t never been the best shooter, never raised me a prize steer, and there were a hundred guys around here who could fix a roof faster than I could change a light bulb. But the point is I learned how to do lots of different things that parents don’t teach kids anymore.” “My”
― Dan Padavona, Dark Vanishings

“You think you’ll make it in the world, working as a deputy in a Podunk county? You don’t appreciate how cruel and unforgiving the world is.” Uncle Truman and Aunt Louise took Thomas in as always. Truman was Mom’s brother, and he’d worked as a prison guard in Auburn, New York, though the man’s sleepy eyes and easy going demeanor made him a better fit for a librarian job. “Don’t take it to heart,” Uncle Truman had told him, sitting beside Thomas on the twin mattress as Aunt Louise carried an armful of sheets and blankets from the house. “They love you.” “They have a funny way of showing it.” Truman sighed and patted Thomas’s knee as though he was still in grade school. “Your father”
― Dan Padavona, Her Last Breath