The shadow year by Jeffrey Ford

Author:Jeffrey Ford [Ford, Jeffrey]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Fiction, Fiction - General, Domestic fiction, Literary, American Historical Fiction, Urban Life, Teenage boys, Cities and towns, Family Life
ISBN: 9780061231520
Publisher: New York : William Morrow, c2008.
Published: 2008-03-11T00:00:00+00:00

I wrote as fast as I could, but my hand cramped. Jim finally took over and finished it. As he tore the letter out of my notebook, he said. “Let’s send one to Krapp, too.”

“Same as the police?” I asked.

“No, I have a special message for him,” said Jim. He picked up the pencil and leaned over the notebook. He wrote only two words and then ripped the page out and held it up. In big, sloppy letters it read:

We laughed hard.

“His address is in the phone book,” Jim said. “Look it up for the envelope. I’ll get the stamps.”

I took a deep breath when I went out to the mailbox on the corner. The street glistened under the light poles, and steam rose from the lawns. Taking a look up the block, I saw no headlights coming, so I started out at a slow jog. I had the two anonymous letters in my coat pocket, and I left the coat unzipped so as to run better. I made it to the corner halfway to Hammond in no time flat. The only thing that slowed me was the sight of Mr. Barzita’s house across the street. It crouched in the dark perfectly still behind a net of crisscrossing fig branches. When I reached for the handle of the mailbox, I looked down and saw what I thought was a clump of snow transform into a dead kitten lying on the frozen ground, its mouth open. It had sharp teeth, and its fur was pure white. A few inches away, someone had left a bowl half filled with milk, now frozen. I dropped the letters into the box and took off back home at top speed.

Not on Your Life

Nan reached way back into her bedroom closet and pulled out a long, dark brown billy club with a woven royal blue tassel around the handle. “That’s the dress one,” she said. She handed it to Jim.

“Oh, man,” he said.

Mary reached for the tassel.

Nan went in for another and brought forth the club with the dice. It was shorter and blunter than the dress club, and blond in color. Inlaid into its side were two yellowed dice, showing six and one. She handed that one to me, and I could feel the energy go up my arm.

Next came the blackjack, shining like a scorpion, and Nan demonstrated on her palm, thunking it repeatedly with the rubbery weight. “You can break a skull with it,” she said. Jim reached for it, and Nan laughed. “Not on your life,” she said, and put it away.

Mary went over to look at the glass Virgin Mary filled with Lourdes water on the dresser, but Nan called her back and handed her a real police badge. Then, from out of her bathrobe pocket, she drew the police revolver. It had a wooden handle, and the rest looked like tarnished silver. She held it above our heads in her right hand, her grip wobbling. Jim’s hand went toward it, and I ducked slightly.

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