Excerpt from Magee's Blue #3 by Donald Whittington, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Summary |  Excerpt |  Reviews |  Readalikes |  Genres & Themes |  Author Bio

Magee's Blue #3

by Donald Whittington

Magee's Blue #3 by Donald Whittington X
Magee's Blue #3 by Donald Whittington
  • Critics' Opinion:

    Readers' Opinion:

     Not Yet Rated
  • Paperback:
    Apr 2000, 291 pages

  • Rate this book


Buy This Book

About this Book

Print Excerpt

Chapter One

Grousing and grumbling like a badger with the redass, I stumbled out of the house into the pre-dawn gloom. Buddy's old squirrel dog Oscar thumped his tail but didn't bother opening his eyes. A seasoned veteran of these early mornings, Oscar knew the drill and would catch his extra winks while he could.

Now Oscar's a pretty stupid name for a dog, I know, but then he ain't my dog, so there you go.

I fetched my Wolverines from the utility shed alongside the carport and took my time sitting on the back door steps to struggle into them. The hogs weren't going anywhere, and I needed to wake up better. The boots didn't fit worth a damn, but I'd bought and paid for them myself and was determined to wear them out. Mamma thought me ignorant for spending so much money on a pair of work boots, but I'd bought into all their ads and had to learn for myself.

Boots done, I took a minute to lean my head back against the storm door and close my eyes. I felt hard done by. These were supposed to be my best years, but my folks meant to work me to a nub before I finished high school. I sighed, thought once of my warm bed, rose reluctantly, and wandered out to the storage shed.

The April air hung chilly and wet. Thick, shining mist grazed the pasture, and the yard lay slick with dewfall. Water dripped from the eaves of the shed. Inside, I muscled down a croaker sack and poured the dark, pungent feed for the hogs, then carried the buckets back to the pump house. The pump engine shuddered to life making the rickety old pump house shake like a wet dog. My hose spit and coughed until well water bullied the air from the line to run cold and clean, if a little bit red. I mixed the feed into a rich porridge with a stick I found handy. Grunting with effort, I lifted the two five-gallon pails and trudged through the garden plot to the pasture gate and beyond. I whistled for the dog and closed the gate behind me. Oscar ambled along sort of canterways, his back end a little more awake than his front, and moving just that little bit faster. He stopped once inside the garden to stretch his scarred, thin body free of kinks, shook himself hard, then scooted under the barbed wire and caught up with me near the chicken coop.

Our trek across the pasture to the sty took forever. Though not more than two hundred yards from our house to the edge of the woods where we kept the pen, it seemed miles. The bucket handles bit my hands. I moved slowly, not wanting to slosh the feed onto my boots and pants legs and waste it before it got to the pen. At the sty the pair of hogs were ready, grunting with impatience.

"Bite me," I told them.

The feed sludged into their trough, and the nasty bastards went after it with snout, ears, forelegs and all. I checked their water and convinced myself that, dirty and brown though it was, it didn't reach out and poke me one, so they could live without a water change until afternoon.

I stood at the pasture's edge checking out the new day. I saw no sign of the cattle and figured they were off sleeping in the wash down by the tung trees. The hogs snuffled and snorted in the trough behind me while Oscar rooted in the undergrowth for his morning news. The dog's body went rigid and his tail wagged furiously at some particularly tantalizing scent: deer most likely. He ranged quickly back and forth across the ground, then bellowing like a drunken judge, charged off to investigate.

I grabbed the buckets and took back for the house. Our chickens were just beginning to rouse themselves, and only a few were out yet busy-bodying around their run. The roosters played coy and had yet to crow. I peered through the wire at the chickens. It was Buddy's job to feed them.

Sure enough, my little brother was already in the shed going for the corn. I put my buckets down and walked over to help him with the heavy sack. The feed drummed sweet and golden into the tin pail raising a cloud of corn dust that tickled our noses. We put the sack back on the ground and Buddy nodded thanks.

  • 1
  • 2

Excerpted from Magee's Blue #3, (c) 2000 by Donald Whittington. Reproduced with permission of the publisher, Authorlink Press. All rights reserved.

Membership Advantages
  • Reviews
  • "Beyond the Book" backstories
  • Free books to read and review (US only)
  • Find books by time period, setting & theme
  • Read-alike suggestions by book and author
  • Book club discussions
  • and much more!
  • Just $10 for 3 months or $35 for a year
  • More about membership!

Editor's Choice

  • Book Jacket: The Perfectionists
    The Perfectionists
    by Simon Winchester
    We seek precision in our lives every day. We want to drive from home to work and work to home safely...
  • Book Jacket: Beauty in the Broken Places
    Beauty in the Broken Places
    by Allison Pataki
    Ernest Hemingway wrote that we are "strong at the broken places," and Allison Pataki found that to ...
  • Book Jacket
    Love and Other Consolation Prizes
    by Jamie Ford
    Love and Other Consolation Prizes was read and reviewed by 22 BookBrowse members for First ...
  • Book Jacket: The Judge Hunter
    The Judge Hunter
    by Christopher Buckley
    In London 1664, Balthasar de St. Michel or "Balty" has no discernable skills besides pestering his ...

Book Discussion
Book Jacket
The Twelve-Mile Straight by Eleanor Henderson

An audacious American epic set in rural Georgia during the years of the Depression and Prohibition.

About the book
Join the discussion!

Readers Recommend

  • Book Jacket

    Clock Dance
    by Anne Tyler

    A delightful novel of one woman's transformative journey, from the best-selling and Pulitzer Prize-winning writer.
    Reader Reviews

  • Book Jacket

    The Summer Wives
    by Beatriz Williams

    An electrifying postwar fable of love, class, power and redemption set on an island off the New England coast.
    Reader Reviews

Win this book!
Win A Place for Us

A Place For Us

A deeply moving story of love, identity and belonging--the first novel from Sarah Jessica Parker's new imprint.

Enter

Word Play

Solve this clue:

H, W H A Problem

and be entered to win..

Books that     
entertain,
     engage

 & enlighten

Visitors can view some of BookBrowse for free. Full access is for members only.

Join Today!

Your guide toexceptional          books

BookBrowse seeks out and recommends books that we believe to be best in class. Books that will whisk you to faraway places and times, that will expand your mind and challenge you -- the kinds of books you just can't wait to tell your friends about.