Read Online The Cracked Earth by John Shannon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Shannon
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it, peering around the kitchen. Funny they hadn’t heard the dishware breaking. There was a lot of it on the floor.
“That would save you a nice coffin-size space if the house collapsed.”
Jack Liffey stepped outside and saw the air was filled with dust. Every car alarm in the universe was going off and there was a queer electricity in the air, like a promise of something more. He tried to will the seething inside himself to settle. There was nothing quite like the earth moving under you to hit you deep, where something in you needed things not to move. A siren started up, and a woman in an apron stood in her yard up the slope. She waved shyly across the ice plant and bougainvillea.
“You okay?” she called.
“Sure.”
“Can you see a gray cat? It looks Siamese.”
He looked around, but he knew none of the missing pets would show up for days. He shook his head and she waved once and walked away. The house had a hairline crack diagonally up a patch of stucco on the add-on room in back, but it might have been there before.
Inside he heard the TV come on. He was surprised there was still power. When all was said and done, after the terror receded, there was always something a little too cozy about an earthquake. It wiped away every kind of failure and started everybody even.
Mike Lewis sat in a lotus in front of the little TV. The announcer wore an open-neck sport shirt, harried and pissed off, as if he’d been dragged away from something more interesting. He was on a cell phone, trying to drag the real dope out of a geologist, like a police reporter trying to make a felon confess.
“It’s just an earthquake, Mike. They won’t know a thing yet.”
“You realize this and football are the only live TV we ever see?”
“Do you know any serious bones of contention between PropellorHeads and Monogram?”
His interest gathered slowly, like a comedian doing a slow burn. His gaze came around. “Should there be?”
“Maybe.” Hidden agendas and corporate feuds were the air Mike Lewis lived on.
“Give me a day.”
Jack Liffey called his answering machine and amazingly enough got through. There was an old message, halting and breathless, to visit Lori Bright, which did funny things to his respiration that he did not want to think about.
He thought of his dog, Loco, probably burrowed under his bed and howling. Long ago he’d left Marlena Cruz his door key.
“It’s a five-point-five,” Lewis called out. “Epicenter in the Valley near Tarzana.”
“Marlena, this is Jack. How are you?”
“Hello, Jack, it’s wonderful to hear your voice.” Emotions banging into each other in her voice. They had unfinished business and he didn’t know what he felt about it.
“Your shop okay?”
“There’s stuff all over, and Dan’s window broke out at the Bean. Nothing too bad. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I’m worried about my dog. You’ve got my key, you know, in the pencil box.” She’d also once had a little throwaway pistol of his for safekeeping.
“Sure, I know.”
“Could you send your nephew down to see about the dog? Tell him to be careful, it’s half coyote and tends to flip out in strange ways. I just don’t want him left alone in there if he’s hurt. If the dog’s okay, Rogelio can just put out some of the dog food from the pantry.”
“Rogelio’s not around. I’ll go myself, Jack. Right away.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Will I see you later?”
She was never shy about pressing an advantage. “If I can get back. Thanks a lot. Bye, Marlena.”
He stared at the small black cordless phone for a moment. She was a good friend and she loved dogs. But she’d fallen in with an asshole like Quinn for a while and that pissed him off somewhere deep, as if it reflected on him. He tried Lori Bright’s number, his heart doing funny things again, but a strange-sounding busy signal started up even before he finished dialing and he guessed that was the end of phone service for a
“That would save you a nice coffin-size space if the house collapsed.”
Jack Liffey stepped outside and saw the air was filled with dust. Every car alarm in the universe was going off and there was a queer electricity in the air, like a promise of something more. He tried to will the seething inside himself to settle. There was nothing quite like the earth moving under you to hit you deep, where something in you needed things not to move. A siren started up, and a woman in an apron stood in her yard up the slope. She waved shyly across the ice plant and bougainvillea.
“You okay?” she called.
“Sure.”
“Can you see a gray cat? It looks Siamese.”
He looked around, but he knew none of the missing pets would show up for days. He shook his head and she waved once and walked away. The house had a hairline crack diagonally up a patch of stucco on the add-on room in back, but it might have been there before.
Inside he heard the TV come on. He was surprised there was still power. When all was said and done, after the terror receded, there was always something a little too cozy about an earthquake. It wiped away every kind of failure and started everybody even.
Mike Lewis sat in a lotus in front of the little TV. The announcer wore an open-neck sport shirt, harried and pissed off, as if he’d been dragged away from something more interesting. He was on a cell phone, trying to drag the real dope out of a geologist, like a police reporter trying to make a felon confess.
“It’s just an earthquake, Mike. They won’t know a thing yet.”
“You realize this and football are the only live TV we ever see?”
“Do you know any serious bones of contention between PropellorHeads and Monogram?”
His interest gathered slowly, like a comedian doing a slow burn. His gaze came around. “Should there be?”
“Maybe.” Hidden agendas and corporate feuds were the air Mike Lewis lived on.
“Give me a day.”
Jack Liffey called his answering machine and amazingly enough got through. There was an old message, halting and breathless, to visit Lori Bright, which did funny things to his respiration that he did not want to think about.
He thought of his dog, Loco, probably burrowed under his bed and howling. Long ago he’d left Marlena Cruz his door key.
“It’s a five-point-five,” Lewis called out. “Epicenter in the Valley near Tarzana.”
“Marlena, this is Jack. How are you?”
“Hello, Jack, it’s wonderful to hear your voice.” Emotions banging into each other in her voice. They had unfinished business and he didn’t know what he felt about it.
“Your shop okay?”
“There’s stuff all over, and Dan’s window broke out at the Bean. Nothing too bad. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I’m worried about my dog. You’ve got my key, you know, in the pencil box.” She’d also once had a little throwaway pistol of his for safekeeping.
“Sure, I know.”
“Could you send your nephew down to see about the dog? Tell him to be careful, it’s half coyote and tends to flip out in strange ways. I just don’t want him left alone in there if he’s hurt. If the dog’s okay, Rogelio can just put out some of the dog food from the pantry.”
“Rogelio’s not around. I’ll go myself, Jack. Right away.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Will I see you later?”
She was never shy about pressing an advantage. “If I can get back. Thanks a lot. Bye, Marlena.”
He stared at the small black cordless phone for a moment. She was a good friend and she loved dogs. But she’d fallen in with an asshole like Quinn for a while and that pissed him off somewhere deep, as if it reflected on him. He tried Lori Bright’s number, his heart doing funny things again, but a strange-sounding busy signal started up even before he finished dialing and he guessed that was the end of phone service for a
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