What do you think?
Rate this book
272 pages, Hardcover
First published March 3, 2015
The school I’d spent the majority of my life in seemed smaller now, though looking back it had never been big enough. I grew up twenty miles south of Sylva, a town that really wasn’t much of a town at all but the closest thing to one in Jackson County. If you were passing through, you’d miss Sylva if you blinked, and the place where I was from you could overlook with your eyes peeled. Being a small, mountain community that far away, we only had one school. So that meant that kids who grew up in this county would walk into Walter Middleton at five years old and wouldn’t leave until graduation thirteen years down the road. Growing up in it, I never found it strange to share the halls with teens when I was a kid and kids when I was a teen, but looking down on it now, two years after leaving for good, the whole thing was alien.
The white dome roofing the gym looked like a bad egg bobbing in boiling water, the courtyard was lined in uneven passes from a lawnmower, and a painting of the school mascot, centered in the parking lot, looked more like a Chupacabra than any bobcat I’d ever seen. To be honest, there wasn’t too much worth remembering from my time there, but still it had accounted for ten of my eighteen years. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t disappointing. What was disappointing about that school, my life, and this whole fucking place was that I’d let it beat me. I’d let what I was born into control what I’d become. Mama snorted crystal, Daddy sold it to her, and I’d never had the balls to leave. That was my life in a nutshell. I took a drag from my last cigarette and hocked a thick wad of spit over the railing.
The tattoo gun shut off, the Hispanic man patted my father on the shoulder, and Daddy straightened up and reached for his cigarettes. The Hispanic had snubbed her name short at Jose, and I started to laugh, the joint from earlier still heightening humor. “Who the hell is José?�
“It says Josie, dipshit, that’s your daddy’s nickname for me, but what do you know? Ain’t like you can spell. You never even finished school.�
Daddy cut eyes at her to shut her mouth, and she knew to shut it fast. It was a mouth he’d paid for after all, so I reckon it gave him that right. Her teeth were damn near rotted out the first time she came around, but Daddy said he saw something in her, put fifteen thousand dollars� worth of work into those gums just to have her smiling teeth like corn pearls.
“From over here that looks like J-O-S-E, and far as I know, that spells José. I glance at the Hispanic and his stare widened. Part of him looked like he was about to laugh, but then there was this fear I could see way back in him like he just might piss himself.
“J-O-S-E?� Daddy turned to look the Hispanic man square. That fear I’d seen suddenly shot up to the front of the His panic man’s eyes.
“Son of a bitch, that dumb fucking spic left out the i,� Josephine squealed. She was boiling now, her face getting flushed as she stood up with legs that ran from ankles to heaven in short shorts, and a tank top that she was all but pouring out of. For a split second, I thought I saw what Daddy had seen in her, but then she opened her mouth again. “Charlie, you better not let him do this to me! You better not let some spic ruin what we have.�
The Hispanic man watched her with eyes spread, and I knew if I handed him a knife at that moment, he’d stab that old loudmouth bitch till there wasn’t any sound left to be made but gurgling.
Daddy stayed calm like he always did, and there was something a bit more frightening about a man that could stay at ease while doing the sorts of things he was known to do. He never raised his voice and never raised his hand, just turned to the Hispanic man and asked him if he could fix it.
“Hell no, he can’t fix it?� Josephine squealed. She started to open her mouth again, but Daddy duct-taped her lips closed with nothing more than a glance.
“The two of y’all just get the fuck outside, so I can have a talk with Jacob.� Daddy rose and carefully rolled his T-shirt down over his back. “You’re going to fix this when I’m done talking to the boy.�
The Hispanic man stood first, laying the tattoo gun down on a side table before sidling toward the door. Josephine, on the other hand, stuck around for a minute, rose and hung around my father’s neck like a yanked-loose necktie with corn pearl teeth strung at the knot. She kissed him on his neck, and he paid her little mind. Josephine strutted toward the door and glared at me as if I was responsible for the misspelling of her name. I smirked, and it ate her up.
"There was no escaping who I was or where I’d come from. I was shat out of a crank-head mother who'd just been cut loose from the loony bin. I was born to a father who'd slip a knife in my throat while I slept if the mood hit him right."His father, Charlie, an extremely violent man, runs a methodically organized meth ring, with local authorities receiving a regular payout to turn a blind eye to his dealings. His mother, Laura, is a crystal meth user, rarely sober and therefore "absent" for most of his life, thus leaving Jacob to be predominantly raised by his father in an environment fueled by drugs and brutality.
"Outlawing was just a way of earning a buck. By the time I was nine or ten, Daddy had me helping him break down big bags of crystal into grams, never anything smaller, and I got a cut just like most kids got an allowance."Essentially this book is about an 18 year old kid who is trying desperately to follow in his father's footsteps because that is how he's been raised, but as this darkness builds around him and he tries to go through with those expectations, it becomes evident that despite how much he tries, he doesn't carry that same meanness in his blood.
"My mother was the definition of rode hard and put up wet. Her eyes were bulbous, her face sunken in, just a thin layer of skin stretched tight over bones. Hair that was thick and brown in old pictures strung greasy down her neck now.
She was nothing like those pictures anymore, though she was exactly how I'd always remembered. She was absolutely pitiful."
"She was what she was, an addict, and there was nothing that could be said or done to change her. Death was her only saviour."
“God doesn’t answer McNeely prayers."As the situation with his father spirals out of control, Jacob must decide whether he can escape his criminal circumstances by leaving with Maggie, or stay with the violent, crime-ridden legacy he's inherited.
"There was no escaping who I was or where I'd come from. I was shat out of a crankhead mother who'd just been cut loose from the loony bin. I was born to a father who'd slip a knife in my throat while I slept if the mood hit him right. Blood's thicker than water, and I was drowning in it. I was sinking down in that blood, and once I hit bottom, no one would find me."It's the hopelessness that makes this book so dark. A good boy born to a bad family and an even worse future. It's depressing...but 's writing makes the journey oh so worth it.