Lost Echoes by Joe R. Lansdale

Author:Joe R. Lansdale [Lansdale, Joe R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents, Literary
ISBN: 9780739479261
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 2005-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

36

A week passed.

It went by like a bullet, because he was seeing Talia, a lot. And all over, and in all kinds of positions. Next to a nonstop flight to heaven with free peanuts, things couldn’t have been better.

“You should meet Daddy,” Talia said.

“Daddy?” Harry said, not knowing what to think of this. Was it that they were so serious he should meet Daddy? Or was it that Daddy thought anyone dating his little girl should be met?

What was up?

As for himself, was he serious? He certainly thought so. Felt high all the time, way he felt when he drank, but without the hangover.

She had surprised him this morning, when he’d been sleeping in, and he answered the door in his boxer shorts.

“When?”

“Today.”

“Today?”

“Now.”

“Now.”

“Harry. Are you a parrot?”

“Parrot?”

“Now stop. He’s out at the shooting range.”

He looked at her, sitting on the edge of the couch so only a pinpoint of her fine ass was actually making contact with it. She never seemed comfortable there, but it was what he had. And he wasn’t nuts about going to her parents’ house. He didn’t know what it was like, but he knew she had money, and he knew he did not.

“I should clean up then.”

“No. You look fine. I like you like you are.”

From past experience, he knew his hair was sticking up like a rooster comb, ’cause it always was when he woke up, and he had a couple days of whiskers going, breath that would melt a wax block, and this was brought all the more home because she looked like a million bucks and change. It was a good bracer to meet a girl in a black miniskirt first thing in the morning, a halter top so tight you could tell her religious affiliation, but it also brought home the fact that he looked like a cardboard-box wino.

“I thought you should meet him, and now’s the time. He’s out at the gun range.”

“Gun range?”

“There’s that damn parrot again.”

“I don’t know, meeting a girl’s father at a gun range—it tends to make a man nervous. Especially since we’ve been doing more than swapping stories.”

“He’s very cosmopolitan.”

“Yeah, but I’m not. Guess I get to comb my hair and put on some clean undershorts.”

“If you hurry. Don’t bother to shave.”

Harry brushed his teeth, changed underwear and combed his hair, and put on the best pair of jeans he had. They were only moderately faded, and the cuffs were ragged where he had been stepping on them with his boots. As he pulled on his socks and tied his tennis shoes, he wondered what in hell Talia saw in him. What made him so lucky?

He took one more trip to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, said, “Sure I don’t have time to shave?”

“He’ll only be there awhile, then he’s so hard to find. He has all kinds of meetings and the like, and he doesn’t always answer his cell phone.”

“This shooting place. They haven’t killed…anything out there, have they?”

“What?”

“Killed anything. Been any accidents?”

“Harry, sometimes you can be so strange.

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