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Author Insight
All Kinds of People
“Those Kind of People” is the ungrammatical title of one of the nine stories in the collection Going Where They Belong. The story evolved from an event in real life but as with most stories, it took on a life of its own as I started writing. The excerpt here includes the source of the title, a piece of dialogue between a husband and wife who are concerned not with grammar but with survival. The story contrasts this couple with another couple who are better educated and more prosperous. Wealth is not the central concern of the story, but it plays a part. A man has lost his wallet, a stranger has found it, and how they each respond to that event brings them to realizations about their lives and changes they decide to make. American stories about American people, the stories in this collection occur across the years from the 1960’s to 2023. They present diverse situations expressed in voices and personalities that take the reader close to the inner experience of the characters. They are told by and about teenagers, mid-lifers, and elders. They are about settled lives and drastically disordered ones, working people, dying people. Like all of us, the characters are finding their way forward in the face of loss. They are furious and funny, hurtful and helpful. The characters found me, and I found their stories. They are all going where they belong, which is why I brought them together in this book.
Book Excerpt
Going Where They Belong
“No way.” Gary stood at the kitchen table staring at the fifty-dollar bill, which Mary Jo had thrown at him with more shrieks and tears. “I didn’t have that.”
“Bullshit.”
He sat down at the table and looked at her, seeing his son in her round pale scowl and dazed eyes. “You look like hell.”
“Same to you.” She sat.
“It was not in my wallet. That’s the truth. Those people put it there, another trick or something. I don’t get it. But wherever it came from, I can’t believe you took it.”
“I wanted to see if you were going to tell me about it. And you didn’t!” Her voice turned mocking. “‘Ten dollars.’ So much bullshit, Gary.”
“I didn’t have it.” He closed his eyes and rested the back of his head on the chair.
Mary Jo paused, remembering how the fifty had been smashed into the wallet. Remembering, too, how Gary had told her the truth about selling dope in Laketown after losing his wallet, had shown her that money. She sat down with him. They had been together over ten years, since junior high school, and had already had all the fights: over money, over honesty. Suspicion flared up at times, but real mistrust had long since burned away. “Well, okay, where did it come from then?” she said. “Those people? What kind of people would put fifty dollars in a wallet they’re returning?”
“You said it before. Just goody-goodies.”
“I guess they’re the kind of people who do things for people. The kind who let you go ahead of them in line at the grocery store. We must look like a charity case.”
“Uh-huh.” Gary was staring at the money. “Charity?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not a charity case.” Gary tried to kick his boots off but could not and gave up. “I’m gonna call KBR tomorrow.”
She stared at him. “No. No. Nobody wants you in Iraq. Your brother’s got a skill. You can’t do anything.”
“They need drivers. Jerry took a second job over there, driving people around at night. I can drive. I can fix engines.” He stood up and opened a kitchen drawer and rooted around in the clutter until he found a plastic baggie with two tubes in it. He brought it to the table. “Get that little mirror in the bathroom, will you?”
When she came back, he was using a toothpick to mix epoxy resin and hardener in a jar top. He put a dab on the broken piece of his tooth and had her hold the mirror while he put the piece back in place and held it with one finger. “Ahkhay,” he said, and sat back in the chair still holding the repair, waiting for the bond to set.
“I can’t believe anybody would put fifty dollars in your wallet,” said Mary Jo. “Those kind of people would give CPR to roadkill.”
Gary laughed, a funny sound with his finger in his mouth.
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