We're sorry, but eCampus.com doesn't work properly without JavaScript.
Either your device does not support JavaScript or you do not have JavaScript enabled.
How to enable JavaScript in your browser.
Need help? Call 1-855-252-4222
The New copy of this book will include any supplemental materials advertised. Please check the title of the book to determine if it should include any access cards, study guides, lab manuals, CDs, etc.
The Used, Rental and eBook copies of this book are not guaranteed to include any supplemental materials. Typically, only the book itself is included. This is true even if the title states it includes any access cards, study guides, lab manuals, CDs, etc.
Chapter One
Let's sing about the man thereat the breakfast tablebrown skin, thin features, white T,his olive hand making endless circlesin the classifieds"wanted" "wanted" "wanted"small jobs little moneybut you have to start somewhere.Here.LAEast LAa quarter mile from where they pick up the mariachison warm summer nightstwo miles from La Serenata de Garibaldi'swhere the panther black cars pause on their hauncheswhile their blonde women eat insidewiping the blood redmole from their quiet lips"wanted" "wanted" "wanted"he circles the paperthen reaches for the phonebreathes deep, begins.
"nope, sorry""job was taken already, good luck""you got experience?""leave a message""forgettaboutit""you sound Mexican, ola, you Mexican?""call back Monday""mmmn, I don't know nothing about that""no""no""no"
Then his barbed hook catches. A thin gold veinis struck. Buds of hope crack through the dry white earth:"oh sure, come on by, what's your name?"
Dogcatcher.
His father was not a man but a sleepy bullwith sledgehammer hands and a soft heart.He once brought a dog home from the poundfor Anthony.Sipping coffee by the phone nowthat little yapping note of hope still rings in his ears.Anthony smiles, remembering the waythe puppy sat between his father's strong legsas they stood looking down like godsat the cowering little creature.They laughed. The pup relaxed,wagged its fat tail.His father was kind to the dog, to the kids, to his wifeuntil a week later when he went through the windshieldon Sepulveda. Hit so hardit didn't matter where he landed.
And after that nothing was kindit was every man for himselfand there were no menjust a widow, some kidsand a dog who went back to the pound,taking his chances with no chance at all.C'est la guerre.Pondering his path,Anthony wonders now,if maybe that dogwasn't just some real bad luck.
"Packs of thirty or forty at a timewander looselike gauchos in their own damn ghost town.They come from the hills, up from the arroyos.We don't know how many, estimates vary,but each time they come ina few house dogs go back with them.Anytime you got toy poodles breeding with coyotesit's gonna get interesting."Calley is so white, he's redwith blanched features pickled and burned.He shows Anthony how to wrangle, how to pull hoops, slip a wire.They sit at the firing range. "You'll be shooting tranqs,but might as well practice with live rounds." Calley showsbite marks on his hands, legs and arms.His breath bites too: coffee, cigarettes, and just plain old rancid."I'll ride partner with you for a bit, but with all the cutbacksthey're making us all ride solo now.""What happens if I hit a pack?""Hit a pack, hit the radio." Calley pauses, draws on a smokethe red in his eyes almost matches theblood vessels spidering across his faceIt's a foggy, milky, bloodshot stare,but it still holds a mean light.He rasps, "You like dogs?""Yeah, sure.""Mmmn," he nods. "You won't."
The "animal control" logo makes Anthony wonder.Animals have no control, they run, they fuck, they eat,they kill to fuck, they kill to eatand they sleep in the noonday sun.Anthony's not afraid of the dogs,he's not afraid of the work,he just hates the other guys.He sits apart, trying to stay clean.Perhaps over time he will become like themwith their permanent stains and bitter dispositions.But Christ almighty, he thinks,I hope not.
Excerpted from Sharp Teeth by Toby Barlow All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.