The man in the yellow suit didn't have much lips, just kind of straight line where his mouth was supposed to be. The straight line widened a little bitm and he stuck our his hand for me to shake. When I came from behind the car door and held out my hand, he wrapped his long fingers around my knuckles and squeezed. He wasn't hurting me, but I felt foolish having him shake my hand that way. "Jubal is the name, " he said, his voice gentle and quiet. "Lee is the surname. Jubal Lee."
He put the cigarette between his lips and lit it but never took jis eyes off me. Seem like his eyes drew me toward him like an undertow, and seem like he knew things about me I didn't want him to, all the secret and dirty and underhanded things I'd ever done. He took a deep drag off the cigarette and blew a perfect smoke ring that rose up over his yellow head like a halo. "I admire loyalty above else in a boy or a man," he said, his voice as kind as a praying deacon's. "I hate lies."
I had a funny, crazy feeling about this Jubal Lee. Seem like I'd been knowing him all my life. Seem like he'd always been in the shadows behind me, and if I'd turned around fast enough, I could have met him before mow. He was mean as a snake, and he'd put my eyes out in a second, just like he siad he would, but there was still something that nobody had ever seen before, and he still liked me. He understood me in ways I couldn't exactly put into words. It didn't make any kind of sense, me feeling that way about him, especially after what he'd done to Tory, but I reckon there's more kinds of sense than what comes from your head.
About Dennis Cottrell
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Published September 1, 1995
by Gibbs Smith.
Literature & Fiction, Science & Math.