Chapter 11
MY SOCKS AND BOOTS back on my feet, I fire up Dad’s hearse, and
leave the Wall's house behind. With my luck, the literary hothead will be
heading up the driveway while I’m heading out. I imagine his gray head and
thick beard, the exposed skin on his round face turning red-hot with anger.
Maybe he’ll slam the brakes on his ride, fishtail it in the middle of the
drive, making it impossible for me to pass. Then he’ll get out, cradling a
loaded rifle in his hands. A rifle barrel as deep and black as eternity itself
will be the last thing I remember as he blasts me to Kingdom Come. Next thing
I’d know, I’d either be riding that wormhole to heaven or to hell or, at the
very least, waking up in the recovery room of the Albany Medical Center, what’s
left of my respiratory sys
