Mucho Mojo
“As we moved, dust puffed and floated in the sunlight that bled through thickly curtained windows and the place smelled sour and the smell came from a variety of things. One of them I felt certain was Uncle Chester himself. You die in a house and lay there for two days in the heat, you get a little ripe, and so do your surroundings. I left the front door open. Not that it helped much. There wasn’t any wind stirring. “Damn,” Leonard said. “It’s like he didn’t live here.” Considering the aroma he’...d left behind, I felt that was debatable, but I said, “He was old, Leonard. Maybe he didn’t move around much.” “He wasn’t that old.” “You hadn’t seen or heard from him in years. He could have been in a bad way.” “Maybe him giving me this place was some kind of final jab in the heart. I loved this house when I was a kid. He knew that. Shit, look at it now.” “Final days he maybe got his shit together. Decided to let bygones be bygones. Ms. Grange said he left you some money too.”MoreLess
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