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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

“I almost quit my job, for one thing. I’ve been a construction foreman for a long time, and work is just one problem after another, you know? Well, that Fri­day, Westwater was too small a town for me, the construction industry seemed like a dead-­end profes­sion, my dad seemed like he was stuck in a rut, and if my dead-­assed little brother didn’t stop screwing up at work—I mean, I did him a favor by hiring him.

“It was just one of those days, I guess, but that particular day, I was ready for something else. If I didn’t have the responsibility of that teen dance, I might have just taken off, quit work, grabbed my shotgun and my sleeping bag, and taken off. I was ready for some change. I was ready for some major change.

“I had no idea that going to that teen dance would change more than my life.

“It changed me.”

9

9

Lewis called just before sundown. We spoke briefly. His father was doing all right, the funeral would be the next afternoon, he would stay a day or two longer with his father and uncles, and then come home.

I told him that his plans sounded perfect, and that I was fine—happy, in fact, was a word that I used. He told me he loved me, blew me a kiss, and then we hung up.

I turned from the phone to resume what I had been engaged in prior to Lewis’s call, but I couldn’t remember what it was. I knew it had been pleasurable and entertaining and engrossing—I had been learn­ing something—but it had fled my mind. Surely it couldn’t have been entirely in my mind, yet there was no sign of any activity in the house that would have kept me so engaged. It was a puzzle, and I felt faintly resentful that Lewis had interrupted me. I sat for a moment in the growing dusk, watching shadows deep­en, watching the final orange glow recede from the sky.

I reached over and clicked on the lamp. Its harsh light rasped the room and hurt my eyes. I turned it out again and went to dress for the dance.

My face appeared to have altered a bit, I noticed as I applied a light coat of eye shadow. I examined my features individually, then stepped back to gauge the entire picture. There was a gauntness that hadn’t been there before. My cheekbones stood out a touch more prominently, and so did my brow. I was pleased with the effect. My baby fat was finally dissolving. I trimmed my hair, cutting it shorter around my face, watching the white, yellow, and golden clippings fan out into the sink, then I ran a brush through my new style and dabbed lightly at my lips with a pink lipstick.