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Back The Hallows Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The house hadn’t changed. Messier than it was when my mom was alive, but the decorations were the same, the carpet was the same, even the television was the same. An old gigantic color television with the rabbit-ears antenna. My father sat down at the breakfast table. He was eating eggs. I sat across from him and folded my arms.

“You want some eggs?”

“I’m okay.”

We sat in silence a minute.

“What type?” I said.

He held my gaze a few seconds. “Lung.”

“Are you in chemo?”

He shook his head. “I ain’t doin’ that.”

“What the hell do you mean, you ain’t doin’ that? You wanna live or not?”

“You seen the side effects? Hair loss, bleeding, constipation, too much sleeping—”

“Too much sleeping? Are you kidding me right now?”

“The side effects are too much and there’s no guarantee.” He took a bite of eggs.

I watched him awhile. He had once been massive and strong. Not gym strong—the kind of strength that came with baling hay and building fences in 110-degree heat. The kind that came from meat and potatoes at every meal and a body hardened by twelve-hour days of constant labor. But that was a long time ago. Now he looked frail, and tired.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I said.

He glanced up at me and didn’t speak as he took another bite of eggs.

I exhaled and looked around the house. “House looks the same.”

He shrugged. “No one comes over anymore. No need to change anything.”

“Mind if I go look at my room?”

“What do I care?”

I rose and went upstairs. My room was at the end of the hall. I opened the door. Posters of Batman and Star Wars still hung on the walls. The clothes I’d worn in high school were still in the closet. On the top shelf was my Miami Marlins baseball cap. I put it on, grinning, and then looked in the mirror above the dresser. Seemed smaller now. I tossed it back and left the room.

My parents’ room was on the right. The last place I had seen my mother. I stood in front of it a second and then went back downstairs.

“I got some things to do,” my father said. “Don’t stay too long.”

I stood in front of him. “I, uh . . . I’ll see ya.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

12

12

The Ute County Attorney’s Office was in River Falls. The Realtor had also informed me that River Falls now had six thousand residents, Ute County had fifteen thousand, and they had recently added a Home Depot.

The City and County Building used to house the only courthouse and jail within fifty miles. The courthouse was still there, but they had modernized it so it looked like a medium-size office building now. You could still see some of the bolts in the ground where they’d shackled chain gangs outside.