Opus Books: Dining On Thorns

DINING ON THORNS
a novel

HERB CAEN, San Francisco’s celebrated newspaper columnist for almost half a century said “this story can never be told or heard in San Francisco.”

A 100-year-old dinner table goes on auction. A sister begs a brother to buy their lost family heirloom. An uncle's murder, a father's secrets, a mother’s indiscretions, and who was stabbed on the dinner table - all are the memories served up in the haunting, and funny, voice of the boy the man forgot.

Here is a short story excerpt:

DINNER WITH ELLA’S THUMB

   Here I was facing steak and vegetables that now looked shriveled, repulsive, and tasteless. The moment he ordered me to sit still, I found my legs and arms consumed by uncontrollable twitches. Each bite a labor. Added to this, my mouth reluctant to swallow, suddenly had to mumble, mutter and even try to sing. I was doomed to become Mr. Squirmey. As my father directed more commands my way, I developed an acute inability to hear. While he lectured mother, I distinguished every word, but the moment he turned to me, I went absolutely deaf.
   Then Ella burst through the door from the kitchen, her left arm upraised and blood pouring down to her elbow. Ella, the cook, was the wife of Charles, the chauffeur.
   “My thumb! My thumb!” she cried.
   Eyes went up her arm to her hand. In a cool voice mother said, “Where is your thumb, Ella? What have you done with it?”
   “It’s in the yard - on the way to the trash - in an open tin can. I fell on the firewood Nicky left out.”
   I remembered I’d not piled the logs neat in the stack out back like I’d been told to do.
   “Well, have Charles find your thumb and drive you down to Mills Hospital, Ella. We’ll be all right. Maybe they can sew it back on. Obadiah can finish serving the dinner.”
   Ella retreated through the swinging door.
   “I think it’s time we took a walk,” mother announced. Her very words awakened the dogs, who knew by instinct that what she said meant freedom and adventure in the great out-of-doors - cause for barking, running on waxed floors with paws slipping out from under so they slid and tumbled, and other forms of celebration which would culminate in the presentation of their leashes.
   “We’re going nowhere until this thing is settled,” father said.
   “What’s settled?” I asked.
   “Keep quiet!”
   “But I’m not talking.”
   “Vesta, I’m moving out,” he declared. “Nicky, get my suitcase.”
   “Nick, don’t do this to the boy. He’s a child. He can’t understand.”
   “You heard me. I won’t be disobeyed in my own house. Call the maid.”
   Mother rang.
   “I will not stand for people disagreeing with me.”
   The dogs, Bonnie and Duffy sat down to wait. This was not going to end in a simple stroll.
   “You rang, Mrs. Sutter?”
   “Mr. Sutter called for you, Obadiah.”
   “Go back to the kitchen. I’m moving out. Nicky, get my suitcase.”
   “I don’t know which one.”
   “Ignore your father, Nicky. He’s not going anywhere tonight.”
   The dogs looked at the floor, then at each other. “You understand them?” “Not me. I never heard this kind of talk before.” These dogs had a wonderful “what happened” look on them. This was not the way they wanted to go.

“A feckless family and the funniest kid to come down the pike since Holden Caufield”
- Our Reader

“The next century’s Huckleberry Finn”
- The Insider

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Chapbook, Strip Binding, Size: 5 1/2 x 8 1/2
220 pages, ISBN # 0-9661961-8-X
Retail: $30 + Shipping/Handling $5