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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

“You’ve had enough,” Bucky said. “I’m goin to throw in the towel.”

“Like hell you say.”

Jake dragged himself back into the ring and took a straight left to the nose. He stumbled to his left and almost went down. His gloves grazed the canvas. He caught his balance, swiveled on the ball of his right foot, put everything he had into the punch, a left uppercut thrown from his shoe tops. The punch flowed from ankles to calves, thighs, hips, torso, through shoulder and forearm and fist until it exploded on Lionel Kane’s jaw. Kane was leaping in, eager to finish it, leaning off-balance. Jake’s left caught him flush on the sweet spot. Kane’s thick, dark body quivered in midair and he fell facedown, so hard Jake felt the ring tremble. The ref began the count. One… two… Kane rolled over onto his back, brushed at his eyes with the back of his glove, trying to wipe the cobwebs away. The ref broke off his count to push Jake into a neutral corner, looked twice to be sure he had obeyed, then started the count all over again. One, two… Jake stood in his neutral corner screaming at the ref. Count, goddammit! Count! Don’t give him no goddamned Gene Tunney long count! The ref broke off his count again, pointed a finger at Jake, ordered him to shut up. He sagged against the ropes, needing them to hold himself up. At last, the referee’s hand tolled again as he started the count over a third time, like a bell ringing for the dead. One, two, three… Ten thousand people were on their feet screaming his name Jake! Jake! Jake! The ref seemed to be counting in slow motion, four, five, six, seven… Kane tried to drag himself to his feet, got as far as his knees, collapsed onto his belly.

Eight… nine… TEN.

14.

ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. WADE WYNKOOP BARKED into his microphone, his Adam’s apple working like a plunger in a toilet.

That was a dilly of a fight, folks, what did I tell you, a dilly! It looked like Jake McCloskey was done, felled by the thunderous blows of King Kane, but that mighty left hook found its target right on the jaw and Kane is down! Lionel Kane is down! Lionel Kane is done! Thirty seconds into the tenth round and it’s over! Jake McCloskey has won by a knockout! They’ll be talking about this one from Maine to Monterey!