Back Night Train Save as PDF
Chapters (37)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. The Truth of Thom Jones
  5. Selected Stories
  6. The Pugilist at Rest
  7. The Black Lights
  8. I Want to Live!
  9. Silhouettes
  10. Mosquitoes
  11. A White Horse
  12. Cold Snap
  13. Superman, My Son
  14. Way Down Deep in the Jungle
  15. Pickpocket
  16. Pot Shack
  17. I Need a Man to Love Me
  18. Sonny Liston Wasa Friend of Mine
  19. The Roadrunner
  20. A Run Through the Jungle
  21. 40, Still at Home
  22. Tarantula
  23. Mouses
  24. Daddy’s Girl
  25. New Stories
  26. Night Train
  27. Volcanoes from Hell
  28. A Merry Little Christmas
  29. All Along the Watchtower
  30. Diary of My Health
  31. The Junkman of Chengdu
  32. Bomb Shelter Noel
  33. Acknowledgments
  34. Credits
  35. About the Author
  36. Also by Thom Jones
  37. Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.

Ad Magic had a jawbreaker-size horehound lozenge in his cheek when the wreck occurred, and now it was caught at the back of his throat. He attempted to swallow the candy discreetly, lodging it farther into his throat, and when he realized it was too large to swallow he tried to cough it up. He panicked as he began to run out of air, however, and dropped to one knee and choked out a cartoonish series of coughs—“Kaff, kaff, kaff.”

He could feel a heat wave beneath his breastbone which radiated up to his face and ears, burning like wildfire as he turned to the Bahrainis with furious gesticulations, indicating that he needed someone to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him. The Bahrainis soon got the gist of his problem and began slapping Ad Magic’s back, while he clutched his throat like a man being hanged.

At last one of the Bahrainis socked him mightily on the spine with the side of his fist, and, ka-zeem!, the lozenge shot out of Ad Magic’s mouth, bounced off the windshield of the bus, and fell into the driver’s lap. As Ad Magic began to breathe again, a great laugh exploded among the Bahrainis, who were at once relieved and amused by the absurdity of the entire scene. Ad Magic had spent the better part of a day with these people, and while he was grateful to be breathing, he felt that their laughter was tinged with ridicule and hostility, as had been their whole repertoire of Jerry Lewis hilarity. When they cried mocking insults at the enormous statue of a serene, meditating Buddha in the caves of Elephanta, for instance, they stirred up a thousand and one bats, which came screeching past Ad Magic in such profusion that he was buffeted by their wings and their surprisingly hefty bodies. He slipped in bat guano in an attempt to duck under the flock, falling on his knee and hand. The guano was an inch deep and felt like a cold pudding. Fortunately, one of the Bahrainis had a package of Handi Wipes, and he was able to clean the worst of it off, although the stench persisted, and he could still smell it whenever his hand was in proximity to his face.