Read Online Lightning Song by Lewis Nordan - Free Book Online

It was contagious, oh what a laugh it was. Leroy watched his daddy who almost never laughed. Sometimes he only stood with wide-open eyes, a scared little smile, but other times evenSwami Don could not contain himself. Uncle Harris told a tale about a blue runner snake that chased a man down and hid in his asshole. Leroy’s eyes widened. “It’s in a blue runner’s nature,” Harris said, “to hide in a man’s asshole, ask anybody, look it up, it’s a fact, it’s science, Leroy, the asshole aspect of the Mississippi blue runner.” Leroy thought he might actually faint. “Slithered right up in his asshole and nested down,” Uncle Harris said, and laughed that fine big rich laugh of his, and then everybody else laughed too, even Swami Don. Leroy knew this was a joke, but he believed it anyway. He whispered, “Yikes.” What health seemed to follow Harris wherever he went! Even the sad marital split that had sent Harris here became a part of the joking, the clothes in the street, new locks on the doors, the Salvation Army on the march, it was hilarious, all of it, how could anybody be so funny? Sadness scurried before Uncle Harris like geese before a child’s cane. Then Hannah disappeared from conversation, from memory, almost. Harris’s grief seemed to fade in the glittering presence of that laugh. People begged him to repeat their favorite stories, even little Molly.
    â€œTell the blue snake in your asshole,” she pleaded.
    Elsie said, “Molly!”
    Harris said, “Not
my
asshole!”
    â€œYes!” Molly shouted in joy.
    Harris told some stories that were supposed to be true. He claimed to have met John Dillinger, the famous outlaw. “I was just a baby,” he said. “So I don’t remember it well, but it’s thetruth, the God’s truth, I’ve got a photograph around here somewhere to prove it if you don’t believe me, swear to God, cross my heart and hope to spit. John Dillinger, listen here, the famous outlaw held me in his arms, sure did. He had on a hat, I do remember that much.”
    Laurie said, “Did the blue runner catch John Dillinger?”
    â€œNobody could catch John Dillinger,” Harris said seriously. “John Dillinger was uncatchable. You might as well forget about catching John Dillinger. Even the blue runners gave up on ever catching John Dillinger. Here’s a fact few people know about, historical fact, I’m glad to share it with you. John Dillinger had the only snake-free asshole in Mississippi for many years.”
    Elsie said, “Harris!”
    His laughter was like banjo music.
    â€œOh,
you
!”
    Every day was a party. You couldn’t keep from enjoying yourself. Evenings Harris held “grog rations.” This was what he called cocktail hour. It was a nautical term he had picked up from his foster daddy, Captain Woody, he told Leroy. The fact that there was alcohol in any form in Leroy’s daddy’s house made Leroy’s head spin. Literally he felt quite dizzy the first few times he realized grog rations was becoming a regular element of the daily party, and the true amazement was that nobody really objected. Was this really his own house? Had he been transported somehow, taken to another world?
    Each day Uncle Harris brought forth some new alcoholicconcoction. Each day the new drink was introduced dramatically. Sometimes he covered the drink tray with a clean white cloth that he whipped away at the last moment, as if he were a magician revealing a hidden rabbit or flight of doves. Always there was laughter. Frosted glasses sparkled, ice cubes clinked. Even Swami Don looked forward to what the day’s alcoholic confection might be, so much color it brought through their doors, so much romance, Elsie would have insisted. Of course no one but Harris ever tasted the alcohol, no one else in the house drank, and he made no demands. No one was expected to