Salinger the Glass family anyone who didn’t mind the politics heat of the kitchen I wrote Cat’s Cradle sold it to Vonnegut for ten bucks Billy Bathgate typed the manuscript one time he walked out the front door got all the way to Las Vegas big hassle with the Hell’s Angels over some dollar slots Vonnegut wanting to change the national debt Rimmin agreed the Angels got pissed we had to pull him out of it me and Kurt Vonnegut Salinger wasn’t there Doctorow was sewing the Cat’s Cradle they were bad cats, woulda assassinated him any day of the week leeway the Oswald Harvey.” He bent and lifted his left trouser leg. “Victoria’s Secret service in the closet underwear undercover always lookin’ out for the guy good old Nixon RMN Rimmin, always rimmin wanting to be rimmed he liked to talk the walk cuttin outta the White House night house doing the party thing all hours with Kurt Vonnegut J. His eyes were dark brown, pinched at the corners, the whites too sallow for health. The giant made a finger gun, pointed it at us, and laughed. He sighed, dropped his shoulders, and Dollard lowered his arm. Above them, the sky was an untrammeled blue, clouds broiled away by a vengeful sun. No groups that I could see everyone to himself. Maybe a dozen other men in khaki were out on the yard, most of them standing still, a few others pacing, rocking, faces pressed against the chain link. The huge man didn’t seem to notice, just stood there with Dollard’s limb flung across his waist. He took another lurching step, and this time Frank Dollard’s right arm shot out. The shadow he threw on the dirt was ash-colored, amoebic, broad enough to shade us. I could smell him now, vinegarish, hormonally charged. The giant belched out a bass laugh and brushed greasy hair away from his eyes. His eyes were slits, but they’d been that way at the main gate. Dollard appeared untroubled, meaty arms at his sides, mouth serene under the tobaccoed gray mustache. Towering, yellow-haired, grizzled, a listing mountain in khaki twill, he limped closer, and Milo Monster Alex Delaware – Book 13 By Jonathan Kellerman CHAPTER 1 THE GIANT KNEW Richard Nixon.
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