I spit on your graves Read Online Free PDF

source of whiskey and gin for them.
    I had all the girls, one after the other, but it was a bit too easy, it almost turned my stomach. They did it as easily and regularly as though they'd been taught it in school hygiene, like brushing their teeth. They acted like a bunch of monkeys, untidy, greedy, chattering, vicious. I kept myself busy with them for the time being. I often played the guitar for them; that alone would have been enough, even if I hadn't been able to spank them all together with one hand tied behind my back. They taught me to jitterbug and to talk jive : it didn't
    -28-

    I Spit on Your Graves
    take me long to do it better than they. Nothing they could do about it either.
    I still couldn't get the kid off my mind and I wasn't sleeping well. I'd seen Tom a couple of times. He managed to get along. We never talked about the business down there any more. They didn't bother Tom in his school, and as for me, they hadn't ever seen me much. Anne Moran's father had sent her to the State University. He kept things going with his son. Tom asked me if everything was alright with me, and I told him that my bank account had already reached a hundred and twenty dollars. I was stingy with everything but liquor, and the book sales were still excellent. I hoped for a raise towards the end of the summer. He counseled me not to neglect my religious devotions That was one thing I'd been able to free myself of in my mind, but I made sure that other people didn't notice it. Tom believed in God. I just went to church every Sunday like Hansen, but I think you can't keep a clear head and believe in God both, and I had to keep a clear head.
    After church, we'd meet at the stream and take the girls in turn, with the same degree of modesty as a holy menagerie of monkeys in rut. That's just about what we were, you can take it from me. And then the
    -29-

    Boris Vian
    summer went by without our even knowing it, and it began to rain.
    I often went back to Ricardo's. Occasionally I went to the drugstore to cut a rug with the cats that hung out in the joint. As I said, I was able to talk their jive better than they-maybe it was in my blood. A whole crowd of the richer bunch in Buckton began to come back from their vacations at the seashore or in the mountains and Lord knows where. Skins well tanned, hair bleached, but no more than ours, that is of those who'd spent the summer at the stream. The store became one of their favorite rendez-vous.
    They still didn't know me, that bunch, but I had plenty of time and I didn't rush things.
    -30-

    I Spit on Your Graves
    IV
    And then Dexter came back too. They had all been talking about him enough to drive me batty. He lived in one of the swankest houses in the nice part of town. His parents stayed in New York, but he spent most of the year in Buckton, because of his delicate health. They originally came from Buckton, and it was as good a place to study as any. I already knew all about his Packard, his golf-clubs, his radio console, his bar and his liquor stock as though I'd spent my whole life in his place : When I finally saw him I wasn't disappointed. He was exactly the miserable little bastard that he should have been. A skinny guy, dark, almost Indian-like with black, shifty eyes, a thin mouth under a big hooked nose, yet with curly hair. He had horrible looking hands, big paws with short broad nails, wider than they were long and giving the effect of running crosswise across his fingers. They were swollen too and made you think of something unhealthy.
    They were all after Dexter like some mutts scrapping over a bit of meat. I lost some of my importance as a source of liquor, but I
    -31-

    Boris Vian
    still had the guitar and I had also saved up some specialties they had no previous notion of. I had plenty of time. I was waiting for worthwhile game and I was sure that in Dexter's bunch I would find just what I had been hoping for ever since I'd been dreaming about the kid every night. I think