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Back Come Again No More Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover
  3. Title Page
  4. Contents
  5. PART I 
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. PART II 
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. PART III 
  38. 31.
  39. 32.
  40. 33.
  41. 34.
  42. 35.
  43. 36.
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. PART IV 
  48. 40.
  49. 41.
  50. 42.
  51. 43.
  52. 44.
  53. 45.
  54. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  55. Touchstone Reading Group Guide

“Yes, ma’am. Too long. I’ve been in the ring since the end of the Great War, more or less. Started right here in Scottsbluff in the fall of 1919. I was a kid, nineteen years old, fresh out of the army. Had about enough of it by now, tell you the truth.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about fighters, except I’ve heard of Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney. I don’t like fighting.”

“This aint fighting, it’s boxing. They call it the sweet science because there’s an art to it.”

“That’s what Cecil Narrows tried to tell me. I don’t see anything sweet about getting hit in the head.”

“That aint the sweet part. The sweet part is hittin the other fella.”

“So what brings you back here? I thought you’d go back to Denver after your fight.”

“We did. I was back there a week and this promoter fella got me another fight here in Scottsbluff. This time, I pulled a trailer behind the De Soto so I could bring the motorcycle.”

“I guess it’s lucky for me that you did.”

The rain eased. When it stopped, she gave him some old rags to dry the motorcycle. By the time they turned around in the driveway and headed east, the sun was out again and there was the long arc of a rainbow on the northeast horizon. He parked on high ground on the south side of the bridge. They slid down the muddy path and picked their way along the bank, skirting the piles of broken bottles and tin cans. They found the pole and the basket of fish and walked along the river until Emaline thought they were too close to the hobo jungle.

“You aint afraid of them birds, are you?”

“Well, not exactly…”

“You’re with me. Long as you’re with Jake McCloskey, there’s no need to be afraid of a solitary thing.”

After the storm, the sun baked steaming puddles and wet branches and everything seemed to glow. Even the grass seemed vibrant with life. They strolled along the river’s edge, found a good place to sit and watched until the sun disappeared behind the battlements of Scotts Bluff. Jake pointed to the summit. “You ever been up there?”

“Oh, yes. Many times. It’s a hard climb, but it’s wonderful once you’re up top. You feel like you’re on top of the world. On a clear day, you can see Laramie Peak.”

“We’ll have to take a hike up there.”