The Water Museum: Stories
Language: English
Pages: 272
ISBN: 0316334391
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
NAMED NOTABLE BOOK OF THE YEAR by Washington Post, BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR: Kirkus Reviews, NPR, Men's Journal
A new short story collection from Luis Alberto Urrea, bestselling author of The Hummingbird's Daughter and The Devil's Highway.
From one of America's preeminent literary voices comes a new story collection that proves once again why the writing of Luis Alberto Urrea has been called "wickedly good" (Kansas City Star), "cinematic and charged" (Cleveland Plain Dealer), and "studded with delights" (Chicago Tribune). Examining the borders between one nation and another, between one person and another, Urrea reveals his mastery of the short form. This collection includes the Edgar-award winning "Amapola" and his now-classic "Bid Farewell to Her Many Horses," which had the honor of being chosen for NPR's "Selected Shorts" not once but twice.
Suffused with wanderlust, compassion, and no small amount of rock and roll, THE WATER MUSEUM is a collection that confirms Luis Alberto Urrea as an American master.
marble eyes. Hubbard ignored Mr. Coffee and nodded when the waitress put his Abita beer down on a napkin and turned her back. It was so cold, some of the foam was ice slush. Oh yes. Oh yes. He took a long pull off the bottle. His eyes watered. She was a handsome woman, no doubt. Boo. He always thought southern women called you “sugar.” He’d seen “boo” in James Lee Burke books, but this was the first time anybody had called him that. Red Cap called him something different when he sidled his
out of its way. Joey turned back, worrying about Freddie Filgate. He didn’t have the heart to see Sherri now. He put in the buds. A young man don’t mean nothin’ in the world today. * * * The yard went down the slope of the canyon in seven terraces. Freddie had lime trees, orange trees, and lemon trees down there. One ill banana. The slopes below were crowded with ice plant. Freddie called it “pickle weed” and said it stopped wildfires. At the top, Mrs. Filgate had her roses. Joey didn’t
petrified dino dung box: COPROLITES ARE GOOD SHIT. People were probably offended. He sells his rocks on eBay now. Ralph: “Hunt, hell. Crawling around with your ass in the air. At your age.” “You’re a bold talker for a newcomer,” The Professor says. “Been here since nineteen seventy,” Ralph says. The Professor winks at Frankie. “Dear boy,” he says. “I painted the nineteen sixty-three number up on the butte. Used house paint and brand-new rollers that I stole from the janitor’s office at
anyway? The bus pulled into the museum parking lot and farted its air brakes and Mom stood and the doors opened. WELCOME TO THE WESTERN PLAINS MUSEUM OF WATER. Another sign said PILGRIM, REFRESH YOURSELF. Some kind of old covered wagon and a plaster ox out in front. Cornball. The kids disembarked. Grab-ass ensued; impromptu tag, running around like idiots. “I swear,” Mom said, “dealing with you all is like herding chickens.” The boys feigned disinterest in the hologram of a huge
Nine: Young Man Blues Ten: Chametla Eleven: The Sous Chefs of Iogüa Twelve: Welcome to the Water Museum Thirteen: Bid Farewell to Her Many Horses Acknowledgments and Credits About the Author Also by Luis Alberto Urrea Newsletters Copyright The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Copyright © 2015 by Luis Alberto Urrea Cover design by Allison J. Warner Cover photograph