The Texas Twist Read Online Free PDF

and Allie’s unlovely but deeply loving big pooch of mixed provenance. Last year, using nothing more than sleight-of-mind and the power of persuasion, Radar had rescued Boy from the hands of a tweaking, violent meth head. This may have been an outbreak of the goodness virus Vic named, for grifters, peripatetic by nature, generally avoid the canine encumbrance, but in this case Radar embraced it. He loved his ragged old hound, missing ear and all. Behind Boy came Emily, a feisty toy spaniel playfully hectoring his back legs, an assault she seemed to have been at long enough to prompt Boy’s strategic advance into the room with the peoplein it; perhaps Emily would attack a lap instead.
    â€œWhen’s Em going home?” asked Radar. “She’s driving Boy crazy.”
    â€œSarah said they’d be back by now. Maybe the appointment ran late.”
    â€œAnd how is it exactly that we became the neighborhood dog sitters?” asked Vic.
    â€œEmily’s cute,” said Allie. “Boy likes her.”
    â€œBoy wants to stomp her,” said Radar. “She won’t let him nap.”
    â€œWell, there you go. She’s keeping him fit.”
    The doorbell rang. Vic flipped down the lid on the clamshell case and slid it under the couch. Allie kissed Radar’s cheek. “You’re taking this pretty calmly, big guy. You know it’s gonna put you through changes.”
    â€œChange is good,” said Radar. “Change is growth.” He turned to Vic and stage-whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll freak out later.”
    Allie opened the door for Sarah and her son and immediately noticed the sparkle in her neighbor’s eyes. “Well, you look happy, Sarah. Good news from the docs?”
    â€œNo,” said Sarah, “same news from the docs.” Then she added explosively, “But Allie, I found a cure!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI mean, not me, I didn’t find it, but this fellow did, this man I met.”
    As she blurted the detailed tale of Adam Ames, Radar and Vic were soon exchanging looks. Allie intercepted these and said sternly, “It doesn’t have to be that.”
    â€œIt’s that,” said Radar.
    â€œIt doesn’t have to be,” she repeated, though with less conviction. To Sarah she said, “You’d better come in.” She got Jonah a snack and settled him down with the dogs—dog fur still soothed him. He disappeared back into his music as Radar led Sarah to the couch.
    It turns out there really is such a thing as snake oil. It’s a homeopathic cure, made from Chinese water snakes and traditionally used to relieve pain because Chinese water snake fat is just dripping with—here comes the big word—eicoapentaenoic acid, which may or may not, you know, relieve pain. Nineteenth-century railroad coolies brought it to the Old West, where it met modern commerce and morphed into what we now know it to be: patent medicine; placebo-effect drugs pimped by fictive testimonials.
    Snake oil. It’s the first thing you see on display in the Quackery Hall of Fame.
    One thing, though: With snake oil, at least there’s a product. Radar surmised that this Ames was selling nothing to Sarah but Sarah’s own hope. According to the script for this snuke, she would soon be touched up for front money, and if she proved promising, they would settle in and just milk her. They? Of course they. You don’t run this scam on your own. There was Adam’s nurse friend for starters, plus other friends like her, bird dogs ensconced in medical suites far and wide. These could be honest people even, except that they took cash to steer potential victims Ames’s way. Eventually, if needed, there would be the Swiss pathologist, armed with ironclad proof of a cure just a few tantalizing dollars away. It was a pretty straightforward snuke, one of many designed to strip-mine a desperate and vulnerable mother. In scam