Кен Бруен: A Fifth of Bruen: Early Fiction of Ken Bruen

Frank couldn’t think of it. The picture was too horrendous. It was then Cathy had said,

“If anything happened to Serena-May, I don’t think we’d survive... would we, Frank?”

“I don’t think we’d want to.”

A few weeks later, the letter came from Jim. It read,

Dear Frank ,

Remember I mentioned to you the diagnosis I had been given. Well, I’m not going to hangabout and just wither away. I found a painless solution in one of Norman Mailer’s books. So I’m history .

But I’ve been busy, boy... have I ever. I told you once how I’d sold my house in a pub. I got to thinking, why not try it once more ,

and

and...

I’ve lost count of how many buyers. When they come looking for me... well, they better be good. What about the money? I opened an account for Serena-May (you’ll find it enclosed ).

Knowing you, Frank, and what an absolute prig you are, you’ll refuse it. But it’s not yours. It’s that little girl who gave me more wonder in a short time than my whole life of “achievement.” If she’s handicapped, then God help us normal folk. I think she allows for our shortcomings .

Be adventurous once in yer life, Frank, feel what it’s like to be an outlaw, take the cash. If I had to end on a quote, I feel something from Blake like ,

“An build a heaven in hells despair.”

A tad solemn methinks .

In 1746 Vauvenargues writes ,

“The wicked are always surprised to

find the good

can be clever.”

Be clever, Frank .

Got to go, old buddy. I hear the doorbell... ask not for whom the bell etc .

— FEED HEINZ!

Jim-Bo .

Frank shook the envelope and out dropped the bank book. He opened it slowly, looked at the amount and whistled... exhaled a long “Phew.”

Serena-May was chirping, it was time for her breakfast.