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Back Black Ambrosia Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. CoverImage
  2. Introduction by Grady Hendrix
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. About the Author
  46. About the Cover

“Then, oh, three weeks, a month later, she shows up and buys a ticket to New Mexico. This was the best part. Them kind of people don’t like to be called on their stuff, you know what I mean? They don’t like other people to recognize how they get their jollies, know what I mean? So here she is, standing on tiptoes, barely able to see into the window, and I’m sitting on my stool, looking down on her, heh, and I said, get this, I said to her, ‘Where you been—hidin’ out from someone?’ These perverts, they always is hiding from somebody, somebody who found them out. Heh. Well, she flashed them eyes at me and then backed off, real scared like. Hell, I really think she was hiding. I mean I really think she was. But you know, when she flashed them eyes at me, I almost fell backward off my stool, cuz for a second . . . well, hell.

“You know them photographs you sometimes get back and the eyes are all red? ’Specially if you take a picture of your dog? Well, her eyes were like that, almost. I don’t mean almost, I mean they were, but only for a second.

“Hell, I don’t know what I mean.”

8

8

I left the house at two-­thirty, wanting to arrive at the station by three in order to witness the changeover from light to dark. The sky cast messages of late afternoon, a brisk wind was blowing through my hair, so I turned up the collar on my coat and only pulled my hand out of my deep pocket to wave my thumb when a car approached. I soon got a ride that took me right to the bus station.

I pushed open the huge doors and walked in.

Something was in the air, and it felt like adventure.

The building heat was on, and people were com­fortable in their shirt sleeves, coats piled up on the wooden seats. The seldom-­used heaters gave off a distinct odor, an old smell, a musty, slightly moldy fragrance that was just elusive enough to be pleasant. Someone with a little Christmas spirit had hung a silver garland around the ticket seller’s cage, and it looked trite amid the old, authentic, run-­down condi­tion of the building.