Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

HUSK

AuthorHouse

Contents

Parched...........................................ix1. Froth..........................................32. Preserve.......................................83. Trash..........................................174. Crumble........................................235. False Start....................................266. Pre-Approved...................................407. Seep...........................................468. Hand Off.......................................499. The Last Good Man on Earth.....................5410. Ration........................................7211. Zero Down.....................................7512. Frayed........................................8013. Barbed........................................9014. Pasture.......................................9715. Shreds........................................10616. Scraps........................................11517. Gristle.......................................12118. Shrapnel......................................13219. Odds..........................................14320. Ends..........................................15321. Shards........................................15822. Shatter.......................................16123. Disposable....................................16624. Pest..........................................18725. Leftovers.....................................19826. Collapse......................................20327. Render........................................20828. Mend..........................................21329. Clogged.......................................21930. Jagged........................................22831. Mince.........................................23432. Shackles......................................24233. Weeds.........................................25534. Ruin..........................................27135. Pinch.........................................27536. Rubble........................................27737. Weathered.....................................28038. Stalk.........................................29239. Asunder.......................................29940. Plowed........................................30541. Knit..........................................31342. Cracks........................................31643. Dissolve......................................33144. Wither........................................334

Chapter One

* * *

Leo turned his radio off with a "snickt" and a "hrrmmmmph."

"God damn announcers know jack shit about the game of football. We're about to have a perfect season and they still pick the other team to win?! Damn it, Karen, why do they do that? Too many rookies on the team? What the hell do they want, eighty year old starters in wheelchairs eating prunes? God, they piss me off!"

Karen watched her husband of twenty-five years dress for the game, the same way she had for all their years together as man and wife. The only thing that had changed from season to season was the number on the front and back of the jersey. Leo was not a fickle fan. Karen was convinced that he wanted to be buried in that ratty, beer-smelly thing. She smiled at the thought of it.

The first season home game was his favorite day of the year and, during the two weeks leading up to it, Leo acted like a little kid. He whistled and played boyish pranks around the house. She liked excited little Leo. It reintroduced some rack-spice into their marriage.

This Sunday, though, was different. Karen was worried. Leo didn't have his usual exuberance. No pep in his step. He was going through the motions but he wasn't feeling well. Karen could always tell when he was under the weather. Summer had shifted wind-whiskedly into a cold and frigid Fall. The windows at night whined and shook with the force of the wind. She had been hounding him for days to see a doctor but Leo was nothing if not stubborn. Even though she was concerned, Karen didn't want to spoil the end of his season by insisting he stay home and miss the game.

"Your temperature was a hundred and two last night, Leo. I'm not nagging! I just want you to think about staying home today. You could hardly get out of bed this morning." Karen nagged despite her denial.

"I've never missed a game and I'll be damned if I do today. No early-autumn bug is going to keep me away from a possible 12-0 season." Leo put an end to the discussion with a shake of his head and a look away.

Leo, or Lenny as his friends called him, put on his number eleven jersey at almost the exact same minute that he had for the past twenty-five years. Sunday was his day. No one could tell him where to be, what to do or how to do it. He loved his team. Leo lived and breathed everything Black and Orange. Today, however, his uniform and illness made him look front stoop scooped out and weeks ago, pumpkin-carved candle burnt.

He had posters of his favorite players on the wall of his basement work room. The desktop wallpaper behind his task mastered, always-running fantasy league program was of the legendary quarterback of the '05 season running and throwing across his body. His ring tone was the team's fight song. He had a horrible tattoo of the team logo on his left bicep. He was the perfect fan; the kind that swung on you if you wore different colors and showed up in the wrong part of the tailgate – with or without beer.

Every Christmas, he got team socks, sweaters, mittens and blankets and never once complained. Why would he? He knew the stats, plays, injury reports and college backgrounds of each and every player on the roster. What could he say? He was a die-hard fan.

"If it wasn't for Sparks those announcers wouldn't have jobs and the team wouldn't have a chance to even make it to the playoffs. Perfect example of one man carrying a team. It's like construction, Karen. Most people just show up for the check but there is always one guy who just loves building something—making something meaningful. That's Sparks."

Having risen through the ranks of his construction company, he now enjoyed the title of foreman and milked it for everything he could. After a particularly messy job in Boston where one of his crew had sent an auger straight into some power cables at four in the morning, his boss' kid had called him up to see what he was going to do about it. His boss was old mafia and was to be respected but his kid was being a shit.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do about it, brat. In the end, it will only cost you about thirteen hundred dollars and I'll have their friggin power back on by two in the p.m. Sound good?" Lenny's voice sounded like a deuce and a half on a gravel road.

The kid said, "Yeah. Sounds fucking good, Leo. Fix this shit and we'll remember."

Leo had the problem corrected by noon and finished the whole job a month ahead of schedule. The company got a big check. True to their word, the company remembered. He got promoted, could spend more time with his family, traveled better and less, stayed at fancier hotels when he did, got bigger jobs and bigger checks. Best of all, he got season tickets. When he opened the envelope containing the tickets he grinned at his wife and said, "I love you and all, but this is the best day of my life."

That had been twenty-five years ago, when he had been a young buck, right after he had married Karen. Now, Leo could feel his age in his bones and felt like the ass end of a dog. He was groggy, had dizzy spells and...