“Let’s give him a good shove and be done with it,” she said to Horace, and the handyman mumbled agreement. A stone’s throw beyond Lindeman’s Mercantile, Gambel Street turned right, the grade becoming precipitous. Jake Tate’s crew had installed a step every twenty or thirty feet so that the boardwalk descended in a series of semilevel decks. Each time they reached a step, Horace tipped the chair back and eased the wheels down the vertical drop to the next section of walkway. The torture was mild, and Thomas knew that Horace was right—this venture was easier, all things considered, than trying to bundle him into a wagon for the short drive. As the street turned left again to parallel the hill, Thomas saw they were approaching half a dozen frame houses, and the boardwalk came to an abrupt end, marked by a pile of lumber and four sawhorses where the workers had stopped for the Sabbath. A hundred yards of rutted mud faced them before the intersection with Grant Street.
What do You think about Race For The Dying (2014)?
