Atticus
“Atticus was the only American among thirty Mexican passengers, many sitting with their dark eyes on him, the mothers patting babies who were swaddled in shawls, the grave brown men jouncing along in often-washed white shirts and straw cowboy hats, their fingers gripping the seat between their legs because of the high speed. A few feet from Atticus a fat driver of no more than twenty hung his belly over a wide steering wheel, hurtling the bus right and left by rolling the wheel with his elbows. ...A jeweled cross on a pink glass rosary was looped over the sun visor and was tapping against the spotted windshield. A four-color postcard of Pope John Paul II was taped next to the speedometer. Hot black oil was cooking on the hood, and the pandemonium in the engine was like iron pans being clapped together.
Off the highway a teenaged boy was walking into town with a sharp machete hooked onto his plastic belt, a .22 rifle slung over his right forearm, a giant pink and black iguana hanging by its tail.MoreLess
Off the highway a teenaged boy was walking into town with a sharp machete hooked onto his plastic belt, a .22 rifle slung over his right forearm, a giant pink and black iguana hanging by its tail.MoreLess
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