The Lid PDF download by ARNE L. BUE

The Lid

BAXTER BOG CARDS & COLLECTIBLES
Publication date: April 2012
Digital Book format: PDF (DRM-Free)

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Read the entire first Chapter here.

A young Alaskan man leaves his village for Anchorage, where he succumbs to alcoholism. With help, he achieves sobriety. A surprising source gives him a way to discover his early hidden life. His post traumatic stress disorder is handled in powerful and unforgettable scenes. Set in Anchorage and Petersburg, Alaska. 320 pages in length.

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Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1. The Flapping Thing 2
CHAPTER 2. The Lookout 16
CHAPTER 3. Waiting for the Tide 23
CHAPTER 4. Painter of Rugs 34
CHAPTER 5. Trip to the Port 43
CHAPTER 6. Working the Crowd at McDonald's 53
CHAPTER 7. Bingo with Miss Finersail 63
CHAPTER 8. Train Ride to Whittier 71
CHAPTER 9. Hustace Kemp 81
CHAPTER 10. Fists 87
CHAPTER 11. Floating 94
CHAPTER 12. Uho! 101
CHAPTER 13. The Shade 110
CHAPTER 14. Poems 122
CHAPTER 15. Brother Francis 130
CHAPTER 16. The Small X 138
CHAPTER 17. The Duffle Bag 146
CHAPTER 18. Night Stick 154
CHAPTER 19. Flunker 163
CHAPTER 20. The Man with the Wobbly Head 171
CHAPTER 21. Herring 184
CHAPTER 22. The Raiders 194
CHAPTER 23. Warm Are My Insides 202
CHAPTER 24. Breakfast with Minnie 209
CHAPTER 25. Festival 220
CHAPTER 26. The First Word Uncle Joseph Said to Me 227
CHAPTER 27. Night Watch 232
CHAPTER 28. Village Council Secretary 238
CHAPTER 29. One Duffle Bag and a City Cab Ride 243
CHAPTER 30. Anne in the Galley 249
CHAPTER 31. Morn! Forstaar du? 258
CHAPTER 32. The Yellow Package 267
CHAPTER 33. Pretending 274
CHAPTER 34. Call to Dunton Cove 279
CHAPTER 35. Slivers in my Feet 286
CHAPTER 36. The Dream Listener 291
CHAPTER 37. Visit 299
CHAPTER 38. The Vok 307
CHAPTER 39. Straps 314
CHAPTER 40. Third Birth 318

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CHAPTER 1. The Flapping Thing

A Husky that was running loose ate the left side of Ferris's face after he froze in the alleyway that night. The people took a collection and shipped his body home to the village and his mom placed him on his side in the church so his torn face would not show. We were sad and missed Ferris, but I still wanted to leave.

"Aunt Nancy, please tell mom I'll be O.K."

"Shh!"

"Aunt Nancy, tell her. I got to go. I don't want to be here. I want Anchorage, where Henry is."

"Quiet! Sad time for Ferris's family; all you think about is running off to Anchorage. You show respect for the dead."

"Aunt Patricia, will you help?"

"Oh, Charlie. This is not the time to beg like that. You sound like a puppy dog, yapping, wanting to go out."

"You got to stand up for me. Mom keeps telling me Anchorage is no good. Henry's there. He likes the city. I'll do what he says."

"Here comes the reader. He'll hear you. Show respect. You knew Ferris since you were a little boy. You should feel bad that he died like that. Don't you feel anything?"

"I want to go away, Aunt Patricia. Now that Ferris had this accident..."

"Accident? Henry says Ferris passed out from drinking too much. Cops couldn't see him in the alley. Trouble. Bad place."

"You sound like mom. You and Aunt Nancy been there. You liked it, you always said so."

"Not what you think. Quiet: your mom's here."

My mom moved like a ghost through the west entrance. Her eyes were half-closed and shadows from candle light touched her face. She did not look to the church front, at the Ikonostas, the image screen, and she kept her eyes off the Holy Door in the image screen's center. The Sanctuary, where the altar stood, was behind the image screen and we never entered there, through the Holy Door. We did not have a Russian Orthodox priest for the funeral; so, our village reader started the service, and he spoke Dena'ina, and then English. The words were for the people, as Ferris's mom wished, as the villagers wished. A few villagers stood on either side of the railed Kliros and sang those songs; one song was sung in Russian, a song that Ferris liked when he went Starring with us during Christmas. The people stood, except Ferris's mom, who was weak, and sat with that old woman who didn't walk so good. I never could remember the old woman's name: Anne, or Annie or...never liked t!

hat old woman; I was glad she was over on the women's side of the Body of the Church. She was too creepy. Ferris's casket was below the reader. The Body of the Church was small, and Ferris rested in front of us.

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