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.
Clifford aimed his binoculars at the choppers again. On the table before them sat two handguns and a pile of cash. When the pile grew high, Big Boy stuffed it into a safe. Shit, it was quite the operation. If any window deserved a layer of foil it was the one where the choppers worked. Yet who other than Clifford had a vantage? Still, they were careless as all hell. The amazing part of it all came from the throbbing rap sound of DJ Screw on the boom box. Why not just call the narcs and tell them what was going on? Clifford was sure he knew where the second-shift man, Johnny Magill, scored. Magill regularly came to work half baked. It was a wonder he could function at all.
The next night at Hudson & Swain was a repeat of the night before. And so it went. Night after night Clifford nearly creamed his jeans watching Baby.
One night a skinny pothead wearing an army jacket and White Sox cap turned up with Chinese food and a video. Baby demonstrated a certain amount of affection toward him, but he made no moves. Possibly he was her brother. Both of them sat on a torn couch, smoking dope, adept with their chopsticks as they ate, and watched the blue light of the TV. Looking through the binoculars gave Clifford a blinding headache. He shook four Percocets from the dental prescription bottle and swallowed them with mineral water. When they kicked in half an hour later he was back on the watch.
Now Baby was holding hands with the skinny guy. What was the deal with that? Nothing more than a little hand-holding. Maybe the guy was a homosexual suffering from AIDS. It seemed likely. When the stupid little fairy finally left, Baby took her shower and made her appearance before the window. She stood caressing her breasts a moment or so. This was new. Was it some kind of weekly breast exam? She lifted her arms as she removed the towel covering her hair. This provided a five-star view of those incredible breasts. Clifford trembled as she caressed her belly and the tops of her thighs. Christ, she was turned on. She was going to go frig herself off!