the road.”
“He was comin’ for Jo,” I said.
“But he was ordained to die on the asphalt,” Jo said.
I wondered if her chicken bones had been so specific but I didn’t ask.
“Wanna go fishin’, Easy?” Dom asked.
“In the mornin’?”
“Now,” he cried. “The grunion’s runnin’.”
I STOPPED AT a phone booth and called Bonnie. She seemed to understand, which surprised me because I was still in the haze of Jo’s potion.
“I dreamed I had a door,” I said into the receiver.
“It was telling you something,” Bonnie said. “Something that you need to know.”
AFTER THAT RAYMOND AND DOM and I ran up and down the beach with our aluminum pails scooping up the spawning fish and laughing out loud. We were like children in the dark of the ocean. No one knew we were there. No one cared about us and that was just fine by me.
A LITTLE
YELLOW DOG
Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
From Walter Mosley’s Six Easy Pieces: Gray-Eyed Death
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
