A Hell of a Woman by Jim Thompson

Author:Jim Thompson [Thompson, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9780752852102
Publisher: ORION
Published: 2005-02-15T04:54:55.781000+00:00

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THROUGH THICK AND THIN: THE TRUE STORY OF A MAN'S FIGHT AGAINST HIGH ODDS AND LOW WOMEN… by Knarf Noliid

I WAS BORN in New York City one score and ten years ago, of poor but honest parents, and from my earliest recollections I was out working and trying to make something of myself and be somebody. But from my earliest recollections someone was always trying to give me a hard time. Like this time when I was runningerrands for a delicatessen and, hell, I wouldn't have stolen a damned dime from anyone: I was only about eight years old and just wasn't smart enough. So this old bag shortchanges me on an order, and the delly owner says I took the dough myself. Weil, anyone could have seen she was a goddamned bag, dirty dishes and clothes strung all over her apartment, living like a hog. And later on she pulls the same stunt on some other delivery boys around there, and everyone gets wise to her and they know I didn't take the money. Meanwhile, though, this deily owner has canned me and told my old man I was a thief, and the old man beats me black and blue.

So a hell of a lot of good it does me.

That is one thing I can't figure out. Why your own parents will take some outsider's word for something before they will yours. But I realize that this incident is of no importance, so I will get on with my tale. I simply wished to demonstrate how right from the beginning people were giving me a bad time.

Well, it went on and on, and I will not trouble you with a full recital of it all. Because all the crap I caught, it's pretty hard to believe, and you'd probably think I was a damned liar.

So finally I'm in my second year of high school, and people have been giving me trouble all the way, trying to hold me back, and I'm pretty big not to be any further along. Anyway, there's this English teacher, and she's pretty young; not a hell of a lot older than I was, I guess. And she keeps giving me the eye and putting her hand on my shoulder when she shows me how todo something. And I figure, well, you know. So one day when she keeps me after class-it's the last class of the day and we're all alone-one day when she's leaning over me and kind of rubbing up against me, why I give her a feel. I thought she wanted it, you know, so I did it. But dear reader it was a trap.

Well, I suppose it was an invaluable lesson, and one that profited me greatly in the future. That little bitch taught me something I never forgot, viz: the prettier and the sweeter they act toward you, the less you can trust 'em. They're just leading you on, see, to get you in trouble. And maybe you don't see it right at the time, but, brother, you will.

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