The Struggles of Johnny Cannon Read Online Free

too.”
    Sora laughed.
    â€œTommy always said you were funny.”
    He always told me I was a moron. Maybe that’s along the same lines as funny.
    â€œUm, where are you staying?” Martha asked.
    Sora brushed her finger down Tommy’s gravestone and traced along the dates that was under his name. She sighed.
    â€œNowhere,” she said. “Not yet. I just got here from Mobile. My luggage is still in the car.”
    I looked over at the gate, expecting to see a yellow taxicab or something. Instead it was a gold Buick LeSabre. And a fella was leaning on the hood, wearing a slick blue suit and a white fedora, smoking a cigarette.
    â€œI’m sure Mr. Cannon would want you to stay with him and Johnny,” Martha said. I almost kicked her back, but I reckoned that would be detrimental to Operation Happy Ending. It wasn’t that I was being inhospitable or anything. It was just that me and Pa was private folk. Partially ’cause we was both a little shy. And also partially ’cause of the work Pa did for Mr. Thomassen. But I couldn’t go and tell about all that, so I just nodded instead.
    Sora grabbed me and hugged on me again. Just about threw my back out contorting like that. Then that baby in her belly socked me in the gut. Dang, it was definitely Tommy’s baby. It punched just like him.
    Martha went to help Sora up.
    â€œSo, the car, is that a friend, or—”
    â€œNo,” Sora said, real quick. “No, he’s just someone that offered me a ride.”
    â€œWell, you can send him away now,” Martha said. “We’ll drive you up to the house. Let’s go get your luggage.”
    They both headed back to the entrance. Martha looked at me over her shoulder and moved her head like she wanted me to come with them. I looked over at Ma’s gravestone. I wasn’t done with the conversation yet.
    Oh well, I reckoned I could come back later. Say what you want about the dead, but they’re the most patient folks you’ll ever meet. Actually, don’t say what you want about the dead. They’re patient, but they hold a grudge like nobody else. Just ask my great-uncle Tom. He’s been haunting the newspaper ever since they canceled his subscription back in ’22.
    Them girls got to the car before me and Martha told the driver that we was taking Sora’s luggage. He got a funny expression on his face and looked at Sora, but then she nodded and so he went around and started pulling her bags out of his trunk. It was like a magic trick, I didn’t reckon it was possible for all them bags to come out of one car. I half expected to see him pull out a dove or something like that. And maybe a clown or two. There was so many bags, I went ahead and untied the boat off the truck. I’d have to come back for it.
    After we got the luggage all loaded up, the fella called me over.
    â€œSo, you’re the kid she’s looking for?” he asked. He had a real strong wintergreen-smelling aftershave.
    â€œYeah,” I said.
    â€œYou take good care of her,” he said. “And that baby of hers.”
    â€œSure,” I said. “I reckon it’s my nephew or something like that.”
    He nodded, looked like he wanted to say something else, but then went and got into his car instead.
    He drove off and then we all got into the truck to head to my house. Sora slid in right next to me and I was actually sort of surprised at how skinny her legs and butt was, considering her belly was as big as a well-fed pig. Still, that belly was blocking the gearshift. I hoped Tommy’s kid knew how to shift into reverse.
    Martha got in and closed the door and we headed on up the hill.
    â€œSo, when are you due?” Martha asked.
    â€œSometime in October,” Sora said.
    â€œDue where?” I asked. “You got someplace else to be? Is it really safe to be going somewhere when you’re about to have a