The Suicide Motor Club Read Online Free PDF

vertical stripes cruised by in the aquarium to her right. A very bright red hermit crab ducked into the shell it had been carrying when the fish passed.
    The doctor watched Judith for a moment, but she didn’t elaborate.
    â€œDo you prefer to talk about . . . Glendon?”
    He had looked at his papers to check the name.
    She watched him do it, then blinked hard and looked at the ceiling.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI think it would be good for you. These other things we’re talking about are peripheral.”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œI’m assuming there haven’t been any new developments.”
    â€œI said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
    â€œThat’s right, you did.”
    â€œBut no. No developments.”
    The fish cruised by again, rolling its big eye around. Its eye was orange like a tiny full moon rising just past sunset. She remembered Robert’s eye swiveling in the triangle cut in the bandages.
    She didn’t speak.
    â€œOkay. We don’t have to discuss Glendon if you’re not ready. What do you want to talk about?” the doctor said.
    â€œHonestly, nothing.”
    The toe of the expensive shoe bobbed up and down.
    â€œI heard that was quite a right hook you gave her.”
    â€œRight cross.”
    â€œAre you a boxing enthusiast?”
    â€œMy father was a middleweight.”
    â€œProfessional?”
    â€œBriefly.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œHe figured out he wasn’t ever going to get a title shot. At his best, he was the guy people beat up to get a shot at a title shot.”
    â€œThat must have been disappointing.”
    â€œDo you think so?”
    The doctor wrote in his notepad.
    â€œGood. I like your sarcasm. I like it when you show a little life.”
    â€œYou don’t sound like you like it.”
    â€œYou mustn’t read too much into tone. You were talking about your father’s frustrations with his boxing career.”
    â€œYeah. Anyway, there was steady money at the factory.”
    â€œBut he taught you. To box.”
    â€œHe wanted a boy. First he got me. Then he got Patsy. Patsy seemed like time to quit, I guess. He stuffed an army duffel full of old shirts and sawdust and hung it from a tree in the yard. He used to pay me a quarter for every half an hour I’d hit it, but only a dime if he caught me punching sloppy. He said girls not knowing how to fight was why they got taken advantage of so much. Mom hated it, said he was giving me boy’s hands. I already had boy’s hands. He was looking forward to . . . yeah.”
    She stopped herself.
    The doctor got up and poured her a glass of water from a pitcher on a small table. She looked at him while she drank the whole thing, and he had the impression that she was reassessing him, though whether for better or worse seemed unclear.
    â€œWe’ve got two more months of this,” she said.
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œI don’t think I’m going to make it.”
    â€œMake it, how?”
    â€œHold together.”
    â€œDo you have to hold together?”
    â€œDo you only ask questions?”
    â€œMostly.”
    â€œDo you like it? Your job asking questions?”
    â€œMost days.”
    â€œBut not today?”
    â€œToday’s not so bad.”
    â€œWould you tell me if it was?”
    â€œNot in so many words.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œIf you think you’re getting my paycheck by asking the questions, you’re mistaken.”
    He was smiling again. She tried to smile back but she didn’t think the expression her face made was exactly a smile.
    â€œWhy do you think you have to hold together?”
    â€œI just do.”
    â€œThat’s interesting.”
    She heard the sound of his pen scratching at his notepad. It seemed to go on for a long time.
    The hermit crab was walking around again. She watched it, waited for the angelfish to circle around and swivel its