Big Jack Is Dead Read Online Free PDF Page A

times. Moaning once, he barely increased the intensity of his bucking. Head tilted backward, his mouth hung open. As soon as his orgasm subsided, he relaxed completely and drifted back into sleep.
    Ramona rolled away from him wordlessly, stepping down onto the carpet and making her way to the bathroom. When she returned, she stood by the bed and shook Big Jack firmly. Her eyes burned in the darkness.
    “Get up,” she said. She raised her voice. “ You're late for work. ”
    His eyes jerked open and he sat up, fully awake. “Well, goddamn, woman…you want me to get fucking fired?” He looked up at her and shook his head violently to clear it. “What the fuck would you do then, huh?”
    “I tried to wake you up at five, Jack. You're the one who wanted to do it.”
    Ignoring her, Big Jack slid across the bed and made his way to the shower. “Make some coffee,” he said as he passed.
     
    After showering, Big Jack dressed for work in less than five minutes. He wore the same jeans all week. They smelled like greased metal and were covered in industrial stains and burn marks. A thick welding shirt covered the t-shirt underneath. He owned half a dozen of the welding shirts. Each time one of them was too tattered to wear, Ramona went out and bought an identical replacement.
    He sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and smoking as he gazed out the window. There were enormous goggles on top of his head and his work boots sat on the tiled floor next to him. His socks were peppered with holes. The window opened onto a small gap between the houses, so Big Jack mostly stared at his neighbor's aluminum siding. “I wish Daddy hadn't sold that place,” he muttered.
    Ramona stood at the counter making his lunch. She wore a housecoat over her nightie. Her slippers had once been fuzzy, but now had the texture of ratty cardboard because Ramona had stood in the driveway a few weeks earlier helping Big Jack start the truck during a rainstorm. She slathered a sandwich with the type of mayonnaise he loved, irritated by the burning sensation between her legs. The mayo was mixed with dill relish and chopped up bits of peppers. Big Jack called it dirty mayonnaise, which always confused his son.
    The boy was sitting at the table eating cereal. Jack didn't have to be at school for hours. His parents' rutting had awakened him. He alternated between spooning cereal into his mouth and leaning forward to rest his head on the table, nearly asleep as he chewed. His father's smells drifted across the table, a combination of gritty Lava soap, cigarette smoke and strange odors from work.
    “Don't fucking slurp, boy,” Big Jack said absently. His eyes never left the gray dawn outside.
    Jack sat upright. “Yes, sir.” He continued to chew, but made an effort to do so more quietly.
    “Goddamn…” Big Jack said the words casually, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Ricky and I gotta weld galvanized today. You know what that means.” He looked over at Ramona.
    “Yeah,” she said. “It means you gonna be hacking up your lungs tonight as we open up Christmas presents at your daddy and momma's house.”
    Big Jack nodded. His eyes rolled slightly upward as he considered the evening's gathering. He loved Christmas for reasons he could not explain and looked forward to all the associated events. With his tongue, he located and ejected a stray piece of tobacco that was stuck to his lower lip.
    His mind turned back to work. “John-David got out of it,” he said with a wide grin. “That son of a bitch is slicker than shit. He don't never have to weld galvanized. Any time we got to, he gets out of it somehow.”
    “Y'all oughta take turns,” Ramona said. “It'd be more fair.”
    Big Jack looked confused. “Nah, it ain't like that. The foreman wants us all out there…it's just that John-David gets out of it, see?”
    “No, I don't see,” she said. She dropped a bumpy pickle into a plastic baggy and used a twist-tie to close it. She handled the