By Joe R. Lansdale
Jack Catcher's mom and dad are dead--his mother died of a illness and his dad of a damaged heart--and he desires to get out of Oklahoma, the place airborne dirt and dust storms have killed every little thing eco-friendly and hopeful. So whilst former classmate Jane Lewis and her little brother, Tony, appear in his backyard with plans to thieve a useless neighbor's motor vehicle and make a holiday for Texas, Jack does not desire a lot convincing to compliment them. yet a run-in with one of many era's such a lot infamous gangsters places a crimp in Jane's plan, and shortly the 3 little ones are driving the rails between hoboes, gangsters, and con males, racing to warn a carnival-wrestler-turned-bank-robber of the chance headed towards him swifter than a black snow fall at the prairie horizon. This highway journey experience is a colourful trip via Depression-era America.
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Additional info for All the Earth, Thrown to the Sky
In my bag,” Jane said, “I got fifteen dollars saved. ” “I got a dollar,” Tony said. ” “But we got high hopes,” I said. ” “I always heard we had kin in East Texas, around Tyler,” Jane said, looking out the side window. “I don’t know them none, but I think they’re an aunt and an uncle. ” “I ain’t never heard of them,” Tony said. ” “All right, then,” I said. ” “Point taken,” I said. 7 We eventually found a pretty good road. Driving along, we passed a couple of old trucks packed down with all manner of goods, heading out of Oklahoma.
The storm howled and rattled the boards in the barn. The sand drifted through the cracks and filled the air like a fine powder and the powder was the color of blood. It was Oklahoma soil that was killing us that day, and not no other. In an odd way I found that worse. It seemed more personal than dirt from Texas, Kansas, or the wilds of Nebraska. The lantern light made the powder gleam. I sat there and stared at the blood-colored mist and finally got up the strength to stand and finish covering Mama and Daddy, mashing the dirt down tight and flat with the back of the shovel when I was done.
Like they’d said, it was under a tarp, so we pulled it off. Sometimes dust storms blew so hard they built up static electricity. Back when we had a car, I seen Daddy go out after a sandstorm, and even though the car was in the barn, enough dust had blown in and over it that when he touched the car door, it knocked him down like a lighting strike. He was dazed for half the day, and considered himself lucky not to have been killed. So I was careful when I touched the Ford, kind of popping my hand in first, like a snake striking a mouse.
All the Earth, Thrown to the Sky by Joe R. Lansdale