Willard and His Bowling Trophies Read Online Free PDF Page B

talk about personality.
    Strangers would come into the room and say, “My God, what’s that?” pointing at Willard and his bowling trophies.
    “That’s Willard and his bowling trophies,” was always the reply.
    “Willard and his what?”
    “Bowling trophies.”
    “You mean bowling trophies?”
    “Yeah, bowling trophies.”
    “What’s he doing with them?”
    “Why not?”

‘I know the tunes of all the birds’
    While Constance ate her peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich, Bob read some more to her from the Greek Anthology , not knowing that she couldn’t stand it, no matter how beautiful, poignant or wise the poetry was. To her it was only a shadow of the warts.
    “ ‘I know the tunes of all the birds,’ ” he quoted, holding the book in his hands as they lay there naked upon the bed. They still hadn’t put any clothes on yet. They both had handsome bodies.
    “Isn’t that beautiful?” he said. “That’s all that’s left of a poem. I wonder what happened to the rest of it. So many things can happen in two thousand years. Wars and, you know, all sorts of stuff like that. Plagues and countries and whole civilizations passing away. It must have been a beautiful poem.”
    Constance took a bite of her sandwich. She still hadn’t had anything to drink yet and was just as thirsty as she had been before and here she was eating a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich.
    She didn’t know why she was eating the sandwich. Ever since he had brought her the sandwich instead of a glass of water, nothing seemed to make much difference.
    “Do you like your sandwich?” Bob asked.
    Constance nodded her head.

Telephone answering practice
    The Logan brothers continued to wait in their little hotel room for the telephone to ring, the 3,000-dollar call that would tell them where the trophies were.
    The comic-book-reading Logan had just finished with his book. He didn’t know what else to do, so he just stared at the wallpaper for a while. He wished the telephone would ring. Then he got bored staring at the wallpaper and he went back to looking at the ads in the comic book. He paused again at the salve ad. It intrigued him.
    The beer-drinking Logan brother had finished his beer. It was his last one and he wished that he had another one. He had become quite a beer drinker since the bowling trophies had been stolen. He wanted to go out for another beer but he didn’t say anything about it. His brothers did not approve of him drinking beer all the time and he had been lucky to have the beer that he had just finished. They wanted him clearheaded when the telephone rang because they had some very serious business to do that evening.
    The pacing Logan was now sitting on the bed beside his brother. He had become tired of pacing in the little room. He had also put the pistol away in a suitcase. He stared at the telephone. Soon it would ring and three long years of searching would be over. He opened and closed his right hand a few times. He did it in a way that his brothers could not see what he was doing. He was practicing how to answer the telephone.

The search begins
    After the Logan brothers had taken their vows the evening of the stolen bowling trophies, they stayed around town for a month, looking for the bowling trophies but they couldn’t find a single clue to their disappearance or whereabouts. They turned the town upside down but to no avail. It was as if the bowling trophies had vanished off the face of the earth.
    They put a conspicuous advertisement in the local newspaper promising a large reward for the bowling trophies with no questions asked. The ad ended with the word PLEASE, but all they got were inconclusive telephone calls that led to nothing. They also received some crank calls.
    “Hello, are you the people who put the ad in the paper promising a reward for some stolen bowling trophies?”
    “Yes, we are.”
    “Well, listen carefully. I’m the one who kidnapped the bowling trophies and I want