Rock Island Line by David Rhodes (most life changing books txt) š
- Author: David Rhodes
Book online Ā«Rock Island Line by David Rhodes (most life changing books txt) šĀ». Author David Rhodes
The thoughts that accompanied Julyās solitude were, he felt, almost like no thoughts at allālike being dumbly aware of awareness itselfāconsciousness at its lowest level. This was something of a revelation to him, as heād always thought before of mere consciousness being more closely associated with entertainment than thinking, and seeing now that these two were somehow one and the same thing, working in and out of each other mysteriously and irrevocably, he felt he was just about to burst upon a new level of understanding. But when he talked about it with Mal that evening he couldnāt make himself completely understood, and where heād been able to see the distinctions so clearly before, now all his thoughts, in words, seemed meaningless and foolish. It was then he realized, though he didnāt try to communicate it, that he had come to an even greater understanding than heād at first thought: mere consciousness was the very act of putting things together in oneās mind. Making sense of something was the act of sensing itself.
He worked at cultivating for several weeks and then helped Isaac Bontrager build fence. It looked as if in the summertime he wouldnāt ever have to go out looking for work again, because heād become known as a friendly, good worker and the farmers would stop over occasionally if they needed help, and ifthey didnāt he stayed at home and read or went swimming with Mal, or sat on the back porch with Holmes and Butch, watching the rain and trying to experience the sort of things he imagined the Indians back in the seventeen hundreds might have when the oaks and prairies were an endless, inviting expanse of uninterrupted nature.
Mal went back to work at the restaurant in late August. The baling crew came through the Sharon Center area for the second cutting of hay and July got on it again.
They had a list of thirty-eight different birds theyād seen during the summer, and could identify most of the trees along the roads and down the hill behind their barn. Mal was getting together twelve paintings which sheād decided to take around to the shops in Iowa City and see if they would display them.
Wally, Leonard and his half-brother Billy Joe sat in the front of their Mercury sedan eating slices of peaches from a can Billy Joe, the mute, had stolen in a grocery store along the Coralville Strip. Wally, the driver, was twenty-six; Leonard was from a little town along the Mississippi and was wanted for burglary and assault in Cedar Rapids, and was twenty. Between them, Billy Joe, released one month ago from the state reformatory in Eldora, was almost seventeen, and had shared the same mother as Leonard. The parking lot in the Wardway Plaza was hot, but they had the windows rolled up to keep out the flies.
āGod damn it, Billy Joe, donāt spill none a that on the pictures!ā said Leonard, and pulled the Zap comic book away from the peach syrup dripping from his hands.
āSlobbing bastard,ā said Wally. āHold it over here closer,ā and he pulled the comic book closer to him. āAnd fuck, donāt eat all of āem, I only got two so far.ā
āBilly Joe got āem,ā said Leonard carefully, not wanting to anger the older, bigger boy, but wanting to plead his half-brotherās right to at least an equal share of the sweetened peaches. āAnā you already read it once.ā
āGod damn it, get your fuckinā finger out a there!ā And Wally hit Billy Joeās arm, causing peach juice to spill onto his lap and the pictures and making him begin crying with sucking sounds.
āYou diānā need ta hit āim!ā shouted Leonard.
āFuck if I diānā. Son-of-a-bitch keeps puttinā his finger into the rip in the dashboard ānā tears out all the packinā.ā He bent the torn corner back to hide the hole and tried to smooth it over.
āYou diānā need ta hit āim.ā
āDo moreān that too if he donā cut it out. Slobby bastard. We should neverāve brought him along.ā
āHe donāt hurt none. Got the peaches, diānā he?ā
āFuck peaches.ā
Billy Joe had stopped crying and tried to wipe the pages off with his pants.
āCareful,ā said Leonard, and took it from him. āPages break easy if you got āem wet.ā
āShit. We got to get us some money.ā And Wally pounded the steering wheel. āWe aināt got but a quarter-tank of gas.ā
āI thought you said weād just make it down to your friendās place. Didnāt he say we could stay there?ā
āThatās what I said, diānā I? And thatās what I meant. But we canāt go down there flat broke. Hell, aināt you got no class at all? Donāt you got no style? We got to give him somethinā. Shit, if I wasnāt with you little punks, Iād do me somethinā.ā
āWhat?ā
āI donāt know. But Iād do me somethinā. Thereās always ways ta get a little coin together, or snatch, I might get me some snatch. Thereās plenty a cunt in this town for a guy who knows how to do it.ā
āWhatāre we goinā a do, Wally? Son-of-a-bitch, thereās a patrol car! Heās cominā over here!ā
āFor Christ sakes, try to be cool. Jesus, what a couple of punks. Donā go lookinā like that or heāll know somethinās up, you dumb fuck. Just sit there. Canāt no cop do nothinā to ya if youāre just sittinā there.ā The police car drove by and Wally sneered at themen inside it from the corners of his eyes, his mouth curled at one edge, as though daring them not to stop. They went by.
āWhatāre we goinā ta do, Wally?ā
āFirst we got to get some more foodāthen we think. Send Billy Joe back in for somethinā else, anā no more fuckinā fruit. Get some ice cream.ā
āHe went the last time.ā
āWell,
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