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Chapters (42)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  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. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. Acknowledgments
  40. Discover More
  41. About the Author
  42. Also by Richard Lange

He made a cut on his arm and told me to drink the blood that come up. Said it was a ceremony we had to do before we left. Like when you was baptized, he said. Mama made pancakes when I got baptized. That’s what I was thinking while I did what he asked: Maybe I’ll get pancakes. I put my mouth to the cut and drank the blood never guessing my own brother was fucking me.

Because that’s how the Little Devil snuck inside. He hid in a bubble and I swallowed him down with the blood. A week later he started whispering in a voice so soft I first thought it was my own mind. Every day he got louder until finally he was howling so I couldn’t hear myself think and thrashing about like a salted slug. Feed Me You Sonofabitch You Cocksucker You Fool. And I been grappling with him ever since.

I feel better after looking at the pictures. I can see Mama again hear her laughing at my foolishness. I tell Jesse we should get a camera. What for? he asks. I tell him to make pictures to remember things. There’s nothing worth remembering, he says. All right, I say, how about a CB radio? He puts the album back in his grip. We don’t have any use for a CB radio either, he says. Firecrackers then, I say, for Fourth of July. How about that? That’s all I need, he says, for you to blow your fingers off.

I try not to hold against him what he did to me. I understand it’s the only way we could stay together and I understand that’s what Mama wanted. But if I knew in the kitchen in Monongah what I know now that I’d be at the beck and call of a blood-sucking monster till the ocean dries up and the sun falls out of the sky I’da taken that knife and cut Jesse’s heart out right there. That’s a sin even to think but a small one considering.

7

7

June 27, 1976, Near Truckee, California

OVER THE LAST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS THE SCAB OF CIVILIZATION has been torn away and the rot that festers beneath revealed to me. I learned there are monsters that pass as men and that the night nurtures unspeakable crimes, and my own hands have been stained with blood. You’ll think I’ve gone crazy as you read what I’m about to set down—I’m having trouble believing it myself—but Wanda, baby, every word is true.