Chapters (82)
- PRACTICALDEMONKEEPING
- CHRISTOPHER MOORE
- CONTENTS
- Part 1
- SATURDAY NIGHT
- THE BREEZE
- Part 2
- SUNDAY
- PINE COVE
- TRAVIS
- ROBERT
- AUGUSTUS BRINE
- THE DJINN’S STORY
- ARRIVAL
- ROBERT
- THE HEAD OF THE SLUG
- 10
- AUGUSTUS BRINE
- 11
- EFFROM
- 12
- JENNIFER
- Part 3
- SUNDAY NIGHT
- 13
- NIGHTFALL
- 14
- DINNER
- 15
- RACHEL
- 16
- HOWARD
- 17
- BILLY
- 18
- RACHEL
- 19
- JENNY’S HOUSE
- 20
- EFFROM
- 21
- AUGUSTUS BRINE
- 22
- TRAVIS AND JENNY
- Part 4
- MONDAY
- 23
- RIVERA
- 24
- AUGUSTUS BRINE
- 25
- AMANDA
- 26
- TRAVIS’S STORY
- 27
- AUGUSTUS
- 28
- EFFROM
- 29
- RIVERA
- 30
- JENNY
- 31
- GOOD GUYS
- 32
- THE HEAD OF THE SLUG
- 33
- RIVERA
- 34
- U-PICK-EM
- 35
- BAD GUYS, GOOD GUYS
- 36
- JENNY, ROBERT, RIVERA, AMANDA, TRAVIS, HOWARD, AND THE SPIDER
- 37
- GOOD GUYS
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- About the Author
- PRAISE FORChristopher Moore
- ALSO BYChristopher Moore
- Credits
- Copyright
He lived on a hillside overlooking the Pacific, in a small wooden house he had designed and built himself, so that he might live there alone without having his surroundings seem lonely. During the day, windows and skylights filled the house with light, and even on the most dismal, foggy day, every corner was illuminated. In the evening three stone fireplaces, which took up whole walls in the living room, bedroom, and study, warmed the house. They offered a soft, orange comfort to the old man, who burned cord after cord of red oak and eucalyptus, which he cut and split himself.
When he considered his own mortality, which was seldom, Augustus Brine knew he would die in this house. He had built it on one floor with wide halls and doorways so that if he were ever confined to a wheelchair he might remain self-sufficient until the day when he would take the black pill sent to him by the Hemlock Society.
He kept the house neat and orderly. Not so much because he desired order, for Brine believed chaos to be the way of the world, but because he did not wish to make life difficult for his cleaning lady, who came in once a week to dust and shovel ashes from the fireplaces. He also wished to avoid acquiring the reputation of being a slob, for he knew people’s propensity for judging a man on one aspect of his character, and even Augustus Brine was not above some degree of vanity.
Despite his belief that the pursuit of order in a chaotic universe was futile, Brine lived a very ordered life, and this paradox, upon reflection, amused him. He rose each day at five, indulged himself in a half-hour-long shower, dressed, and ate the same breakfast of six eggs and half a loaf of sourdough toast, heavily buttered. (Cholesterol seemed too silent and sneaky to be dangerous, and Brine had decided long ago that until cholesterol gathered its forces and charged him headlong across the plate with Light Brigade abandon, he would ignore it.)
After breakfast, Brine lit his meerschaum pipe for the first time of the day, crawled onto his truck, and drove downtown to open his store.