A Slipping-Down Life

A Slipping-Down Life

Anne Tyler

Language: English

Pages: 192

ISBN: 0345478959

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


"Without Anne Tyler, American fiction would be an immeasurably bleaker place."
NEWSDAY
Evie Decker is a shy, slightly plump teenager, lonely and silent. But her quiet life is shattered when she hears the voice of Drumstrings Casey on the radio and becomes instantly attracted to him. She manages to meet him, bursting out of her lonely shell--and into the attentive gaze of the intangible man who becomes all too real....

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Girls indicated her by no more than a glance. “That’s her. No, don’t look now.” In the back of the room, a boy half stood to peer at her before Fay-Jean Lindsay pulled him sharply down. “Will you see me to the door?” Casey asked. “Don’t come no further. “Don’t mind the lights. “When you going to leave off that hammering? “When they going to let me be?” Evie looked down at the table. David had stopped signaling to her by now. His eyes skimmed the roomful of people, who stared from Evie to

Girls indicated her by no more than a glance. “That’s her. No, don’t look now.” In the back of the room, a boy half stood to peer at her before Fay-Jean Lindsay pulled him sharply down. “Will you see me to the door?” Casey asked. “Don’t come no further. “Don’t mind the lights. “When you going to leave off that hammering? “When they going to let me be?” Evie looked down at the table. David had stopped signaling to her by now. His eyes skimmed the roomful of people, who stared from Evie to

said. “If I’d of took you to the Parisian like you asked, they wouldn’t have fired me.” “That’s just silly,” Evie said. “Nothing silly about it. Except I wish if you bring me luck you wouldn’t have to weigh on my head. Don’t you ever smile none?” “Of course I do.” “Not to notice. Just sitting there paper-faced with your forehead showing. Now you’ve cut bangs.” “I thought it was time to.” “Does that mean you were serious?” “Serious about what?” Evie said. “I don’t understand what we’re

to lie about my age anyway. Even in Dillon. We might as well do it in Tar City, or Raleigh.” “We’d have to lie more in Tar City,” said Drum. “I would be underage too, if we went there.” “I don’t care.” “They’d ask for proof. Then where would we be?” “I don’t care.” She waited to see what she would say next, but nothing more came. And there sat Drum, tapping a cigarette against his thumbnail over and over until the tobacco had settled a good eighth of an inch, but still he didn’t light it. He

thought in her head. When she collected herself, whole minutes might have passed. There was not even an echo of what the teacher had said, and her classmates, still bent over their notebooks, seemed to have ridden away from her on their scurrying ball-point pens. “Please excuse Evie D. Casey,” Drum wrote in his notes to the principal. “She was not feeling well and couldn’t come to school ‘Wednesday,’ ‘Thursday,’ and ‘Friday.’ Sincerely Bertram O. Casey.” Mr. Harrison put on his clear-rimmed

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