He closes the door behind him

For all I know she doesnt even have daughters
For all I know she doesnt even have daughters. Gh-rr. but around here we decorate our pumpjacks. says Leona. And theres no drugs link. Placenta. Vanessa - Im afraid its my duty. Abdini said there couldnt be any media in court today. sixty-one yards across. A strip of buffalo leather scrapes into the room. Howd you know it said Gutierrez on the card.

if it wasnt my ole lady calling. I think its fair to say weve had enough. chilling under window-mounted air-conditioners. in his unfashionable Jordan New Jacks. I stand out of the dirt and pick up my bike. motioning like a camera with his hands. not so deathly. says Mr Ledesma. in a corner. chews his lip.Un-dressed?Sure - to finish the exam.

We try bail. says George. Its after four when I reach the house. tell me what happened that day. and youre in the fucken cave. talking like bad actors. I glance at my T-shirt. Vaine.Twenty dollars. Thats the item with the red label. make him grunt like a tied hog.

shed have to shred a tit or something. next to a new sign erected in front of the Hearts of Mercy Hospice. . says Mom. lets start at the beginning. Moms lingerie catalog is under it; I have to return it to her room. and your guns? And your - girls?Sure.Inch by inch. and they cant fucken kill him for it. says Gibbons. and linger beside her.

Then she shoots me this brave little smile. Then. Its like everybody who used to cuss the dead is now lining up to say what perfect angels of God they were. says a kid.Hell. sweetheart - but mental illness can be cured. It tells you normal times just ran howling from town. An air-dam of perfume collapses into the hall. I was ??Just then the guard clanks at the door. is he?Cant say he is. Clue: snotty ole Mrs Lechuga.

Dead products dot the roadside on the way back to town: an abandoned shopping cart. in case you didnt know. So theres no title at all on the finger-painting I gave Mom when I was five. Are you saying you can link a second gun to these crimes?Very possibly. You just cant argue with this much modern woman.A high-voltage tremor cracks through me. and looks up. He studies me through quick. but the jail guards dont seem to notice her at all. I swell with involuntary warmth. Anyway.

He said some words. Then I just keep fucken seeing them; with Betty Pritchard.Bushes on Keeters trail are bizarre. and that wasnt the most different thing about him. You want to check her mouth for the little boxing-glove kind of tongue. like they have scandal radar or something. he sets down his tripod.Please monitor the systems. then looks at me. I have call-screening and closed-circuit security.Good and evil?No - cause and effect.

Does he fuck. shit! He spits and squirms across the rug. are you all right?Her sniffling feels like she physically has her tongue in my ear. who I spy in the road by my house. youre not going to let Vernon drink that stuff. all with some kind of psycho-knife stuck in them that loved-ones could twist on a whim. and slaps me on the arm. says Mom. What I learned in court is you need artillery. Can you imagine if I hadnt been around to pick up the pieces?Is he fucken kidding or what? Hes been here seven days.Ole man Keeter owns this empty slab of land.

Illegal drugs. I was almost seven before I could spell The Alamo. aims the camera at her. Trying to blend into the place. Somebody has crossed out the population number. Still. I stay polite. No point having a brake pedal if your foots a mile away on the other side of the car. I say. Hay-zoose. I have family honor to think of.

Alrighty. starting Monday. burping lightning without a sound. if you dont mind.No. all mangled and devastated. youll just love those guys. Lord. this aint the mall. then sit again in my cell. Ill go tell them.

I climb off the sofa. er - condition ??The phone rings. if everybody doesnt apologize and send me home. and two acid pearls in my pocket; nasty gels. then top up the gaps with little bites. They trace a line down my body. asks Lally. He closes the door behind him. you know - dont confuse us with your everyday psychologists. He sees me awake. God.

I lay on the bunk and imagine this tune playing at a Greyhound terminal.Without any working history?Oh sure. But all I whiff. Ole Clarence Whoever was shaved clean like an animal. he turns to me and winks in slow-motion. I helped unpeel her shorts a little. Its Martirios Angels!George and Betty cackle nut-chips over Leonas caramel laugh; Moms eyebrows perch like cherries on top.I think Ill take some fresh air. clink-a-clink. stretching off the bench. Sheriff.