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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

The kid laughed and Eli tipped him a quarter. He bought a Coca-Cola and a Hershey bar, found the telephone and paid a nickel to call home. Juanita, the Mexican housekeeper, answered the phone.

“Where are you, Eli?”

“Casper. I should be home in three hours, maybe less.”

“It’s already past eight o’clock.”

“I know. I’d sooner be home.”

“Did you get to see Velma in Scottsbluff?”

“Nope. They buried her three days before I got there. I took Emaline out to visit her grave.”

“Oh, I am so sorry. That is terrible for you.”

“My own damned fault. I should have made it down to see her a long time ago. How are the kids?”

“They are all staying at the Ewing ranch tonight because it’s Paula Ewing’s birthday. They’re anxious to see you, but I think you should find a place to stay and start home tomorrow.”

“I’ve got too much on my mind to sleep anyway. I should be there by midnight.”

As he climbed behind the wheel of the Cadillac again, he realized that the last time a woman’s voice had offered such solace, Livvy was still alive and Velma was just a girl.

3.

ELI SPED THROUGH BUFFALO AND MADE IT TO BIG Horn, just south of Sheridan, at eleven o’clock. He turned off the main highway onto the gravel road that led northeast to the 8T8, fifty miles distant. There were no other cars on the narrow and icy road, no distant lights winking in farmhouses, nothing but the long yellow cones of the headlights sweeping over the dark prairie. A moment of illumination and then darkness again, the way a man receives a beam of intuition from the dark, pumping heart of the universe and then loses it before he can capture whatever it was. Twice he caught himself nodding off as the Cadillac slid toward the barrow pit. After it happened the second time, he stopped the car and got out and rubbed snow on his face. Within a mile or two he felt drowsy again, but he pushed on, driving too fast on a narrow road slick with packed snow. It was strange how you could know a place in daylight down to the last creek and fence post and tumbleweed, then you struck the same place on a winter night and it was like someone had moved all the furniture in the parlor and you were tripping over things in the dark.