By Paul Levine
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Extra resources for THE ROAD TO HELL
Example text
Woody asks. “Ocotillo. ” “We got a truck couple miles over if you want a lift. ” He says it softly. Sounding a little embarrassed, wishing he had more to offer. “My Aunt Luisa’s a nurse. ” Woody doesn’t take me up on the offer. “Mi tia can make us all breakfast,” I say, trying again. ” The sun is an orange fireball, fully above the distant mountains now. The men don’t look like vigilantes any more. Ordinary guys with creased, tired faces. They exchange bashful looks. ” I ask. “Love it,” Calvin says.
He says it softly. Sounding a little embarrassed, wishing he had more to offer. “My Aunt Luisa’s a nurse. ” Woody doesn’t take me up on the offer. “Mi tia can make us all breakfast,” I say, trying again. ” The sun is an orange fireball, fully above the distant mountains now. The men don’t look like vigilantes any more. Ordinary guys with creased, tired faces. They exchange bashful looks. ” I ask. “Love it,” Calvin says. “No better breakfast on either side of the border,” Woody agrees. ” I ask.
He brushed past his wife without even seeing her. “The judge should never have allowed you to handle the case,” Kristin said. ” His legs felt rubbery as he staggered out, leaving behind his trial bag, the pleadings, the exhibits. His wife. ” She sniffed the air. ” No answer. He was gone. * * * A moment later, Kristin dropped into a chair. She examined a coffee cup on the table. Inside, a half-smoked cigarette. The tip still glowing. French. Just like her bitch mother-in-law used to smoke. Before she went straight to hell.