Chapters (37)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- The Truth of Thom Jones
- Selected Stories
- The Pugilist at Rest
- The Black Lights
- I Want to Live!
- Silhouettes
- Mosquitoes
- A White Horse
- Cold Snap
- Superman, My Son
- Way Down Deep in the Jungle
- Pickpocket
- Pot Shack
- I Need a Man to Love Me
- Sonny Liston Wasa Friend of Mine
- The Roadrunner
- A Run Through the Jungle
- 40, Still at Home
- Tarantula
- Mouses
- Daddy’s Girl
- New Stories
- Night Train
- Volcanoes from Hell
- A Merry Little Christmas
- All Along the Watchtower
- Diary of My Health
- The Junkman of Chengdu
- Bomb Shelter Noel
- Acknowledgments
- Credits
- About the Author
- Also by Thom Jones
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
Anyhow, Pa gave me the keys to an old Ford that was parked under the oak tree back behind the car shop. It was a convertible, and me and Barbara Carpenter drove it down Lake Street past the stockyards, glad to stir up a little breeze, it was such a hot day. Of course, I didn’t know how to drive and we smashed into a fire hydrant in Montgomery. No one was hurt but we had to walk home along the side of Lake Street, which was so hot that day the tar was melting and the heat of the pavement burned through our saddle shoes. The dog days of August. I told Pa what happened and he didn’t get mad or anything, he just told one of the mechanics who had some spare time to take me out in a new Chevrolet and learn me how to drive—that’s what he sold, Chevrolets—and when I learned how to drive, I had a new car. Pa was good that way. When my sister Ida wanted to play tennis, he had the tennis courts built and Ida got fancy tennis clothes, but after a few weeks she got tired of it. I think Pa just built them to show off because at the time all of the rich people were putting up tennis courts. Pa had them build two courts and put a big fence around them so no one would have to run down tennis balls. They still have morning glories growing on the fence. If my arthritis isn’t too bad I like to go and look at them and smell the lilacs when they bloom.
Tootie could play tennis and beat anyone in the whole south end of town. Grown men she could beat, but when she played Pa she would let him win even though Pa was pretty bad at tennis apart from the fact that he was a big and strong man.
Pa had this punching bag in the basement and he liked to punch on it and show off, and all the kids in the neighborhood got pretty good at it. Because he liked kids and knew how to fool with them, all the kids in the neighborhood thought Pa was swell. I could punch the bag like all the kids, but Tootie could actually box and would box with Pa. She could beat up any of the boys, even the ones that were quite a bit older. This went on until she was about thirteen and she got her period, which was normal but really threw Tootie for a loop.