“Gum wasn’t a cigarette. Nor were toothpicks, Tic-Tacs, sourballs or candy cigarettes, which looked an awful lot like chalk. Six months after quitting, he ought to have gotten past the craving for nicotine, but he hadn’t yet. That was life, though—the things that ought to get easier in time usually didn’t. So he chewed gum. Rideout’s Ride hadn’t changed since the last time he’d been in town. Actually, it hadn’t changed much since the first time he’d stepped into the place, when he’d been about t...hree. It had been called Stubby’s then, after its owner, Stubby Miller. Jed’s dad had asked Jed to wait on the front porch while he went inside to settle a matter with someone, and then the old man had ordered a beer and forgotten that he’d left his young son outside. Having a father like Jack Willetz had taught Jed to become self-sufficient. At three years of age, he’d had the gumption to shove the door open, march into the dim, salty-smelling tavern and ask the first person he saw, “Is my daddy here?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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