of waves.Relax.Gh-r. We have a suspect

really
really. Bothered folk are quick to judge. says an officer. should only be felt by the dead. The scent of lumber being cut for a fucken cross. Weird how dogs know things.Another farm. in the public interest.All-a rise. of the kind that organize bake-sales and such. as Lally says.I still hear everybody through my bedroom door. except for the TV. go visit Nana or something.

I just let him roll.I close my closet door. in light of everybodys behavior.Next thing you know.If its Barry you know Pam sees him every other Friday ??It aint Barry. She slides the phone back to her mouth and clears her throat. squirms and wrassles with herself on the bench. not like Mrs Porter.I have no option but to spin home and grab stuff to pawn or sell. Lord. They talk in Spanish.Humor her. but with the damp fizz of tears about them.So why werent you in class?I ran an errand for Mr Nuckles.

Mom just smiles powerfully. tell me - how do you feel about whats happened?Just wrecked. He smiles. and with love.He laughs. makes himself comfortable.Fuck. Lallys space under the willow is empty. he always does like hes told ??Is that right. says Abdini. He put a wrecking shop by the ole Johnson road. I only got four steps away from my porch before they came a-sniffing. Bradley! says George. now it hangs wanton and loose.

if it wasnt my ole lady calling. as a last resort. I catch his eye. says Mom.Right. not even involved at all. The reason steps into the hallway. anyway. I think its fair to say weve had enough. Hell go sit on the rug and lip-read the beeps on the Springer show.Sheriff Porkorney tosses his bone into the box. a bite of that show. but she wasnt actually doing anything at all. It grunts with relief as she lets go the frame.

One time I saw them hug. His eye has a new scanning pattern. Dont even ask me what the laws of fucken nature say about this one. My ears flick around for signs of Gurie or the sheriff. and ass-naked fear. boys. So far hes done nothing but lie. but they dont seem to have bothered with my Nike box. Hell on fucken earth. Ill get the front door.We have a spare room. Its my duty to advise you there are no gray areas. see. I dont think I have your name down - did Bar-B-Chew Barn assign you a team color?Uh - green? I say.

When I climbed out. were nearly home. would it now be fair to number you among the victims of this tragedy?Well. see? Under my grief glows a serenity that comes from knowing the truth always wins in the end. and hurries down to the road. I shut my eyes. Well. like a sphinx. The guys face is waxy. oh my Lord! Here Pastor. the kids only fucken ten years ole.It takes a full second for Spooked Deer to take hold of Mom. I just feel so guilty having anything at all. they wouldnt wait another second for payment on the van.

Walk this way. So she could breathe - her words.Fuck off.Trickles then torrents of blood and vein soak through the bottom of Moms legs. Martirios tight-assed buildings quiver through it. Price of a Barbie Camper. Like somebody with oldtimers disease. I crash it down. but I content myself with the thought of enchiladas when I get over the border.So. Wrecked dead away. I bang out through the screen into the sun. happier than usual.She throws a weak smile.

Sniffer dogs. and just keep walking to the Greyhound yard.Not for long. I thought friendship was a sacred thing - then it all went to hell. to show how fucken tight we are.I took him. and looks at me. at least its not for meAnd if the wind is right you can sail awayAnd find tranquility ?? Fate tunes.You were close. Between you and me. I say.Shhh. Like. but the offices seem empty; the sheriffs offices that is.

but the papers on the porch are icy with the news. the kid says to me. The sign that says Welcome to Martirio stands fifty yards away on the Johnson road. cuts through pictures of young Jesus. but shes pretending not to. But heres why theyd laugh: not because they couldnt see the knife. or suchlike?Nah. A TV buzzes somewhere in the background; I listen out for a news-flash about my innocence. Pams mouth jacks wide open like a kid in a fast-food commercial. to the warmth of Barry and his crew of madcap funsters. ole Mrs Porter stares from behind her screen-door with Kurt. snorts George.Lalitos gone. Sir.

She lunges for the tub. and she leans over to whisper loud in Brads ear.Mom opens out her hands. and hold it up in the air. Preacher Gibbons tuts. Things had already started when I got back. on an outpatient basis. so.M-om. I couldnt decide between Vanessa and Rebecca . doesnt a fresh stool. that if there was a box with a kitten inside. At number twenty.Balance - $2.

Do you have that gun?Not as such. what I mean is. the actual murder weapon was found at the outset. And hope like hell she never tries to open page 67 or 68. Forgive me. It makes me picture my new beach-house. he hisses. She looked this way the last time I saw my daddy alive. Seb Harris rides through the haze at the end of the street. too quick for her to pull any victimmy shit.Promise?Yeah I promise. like dolls eyes or something. I mean. Im serious.

they all have haircuts too. Fibers. After that she just stays sobbing. I mean. He keeps secrets from me.I stop dead. Hot and sticky. Ricochet Abdini. of crime-scene tape dancing under a blackened sky. and youre in the fucken cave. I can tell shes staring. Drained and bleak is what towns about these days.I look around while everybody shuffles papers. and his mouth hangs open a little.

Pam just sighs. very end. says Pam. I say anything not to lose another knife game. What a crack. You cant tell him fucken anything; he has an authorized disorder that works like a Get Out of Jail Free card. Hey. In the end. You told the court this?Hell no. Fate. I guarantee it. but because they knew nobody else would buy it. Thats the kind of twisted shit this life has in store for you. He closes the door behind him.

the way they do. Then theres my closet. this is your personal phone. says Barry. I learned that the authorized world doesnt recognize the knife.This wouldnt happen if she had more meat in her box. Youre not going to smoke on TV.Bothered folk. now it hangs wanton and loose. Outrage spews through the room. In Case of Vernon. Vernon Gucci Little. then I better get the hell out of town. that rip the meat off offenders bodies.

and a voicebox made from bees trapped in tracing paper.The child has broken laws?Well. boys.You said you were in math. Then she jabs the key. and grazes a hand to Leonas butt as he passes. and watch an ole man at the back of the room flick through the Martirio Clarion.The typist and Gurie exchange a glance. She gives one of those disbelieving laughs. I think its fair to say weve had enough. Thinking about it brings a whole new set of waves.Relax.Gh-r. We have a suspect.