Pseudopod 444: Boys Will Be Boys

by Joe R. Lansdale

“Boys Will Be Boys” first appeared in the Winter 1985/1986 issue of Hardboiled. This story, slightly revised, became a portion of the 1987 novel THE NIGHTRUNNERS.

JOE R. LANSDALE has written over thirty books, and numerous short stories. He has won a multitude of awards, including the Edgar for his novel THE BOTTOMS, and his novel COLD IN JULY was filmed in 2014. His newest book, PARADISE SKY was just released on June 16th from Mullholland Books and his popular HAP & LEONARD books are being turned into a television series. Joe blogs here and you can also follow him on Facebook.

Your narrator – Kevin M. Hayes – is a man of many facets. Hailing from Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, he is overactively involved in the Science Fiction/Fantasy and Horror Community where he has done programming for the usually annual SF conference Confluence (this year – July 24 to 26, 2015 in Mars Pennsylvania – more info on the website). He is a writer, a reader, an actor, a singer, a poet, and a cartoonist/illustrator – and that’s just in his spare time. He thrives with his artistic endeavors and lives with a hugely talented woman who shares his interests and is the passion of his life. They have collaborated on a novel that defies easy description for which they still try to find a publishing home. The home they have made for themselves also contains three of her five children, artists, writers and performers all. Kevin has a story that examines the problems of Norse gods as passengers on a spaceship not known as the Serenity appearing in “TV Gods” from Fortress Publishing – available now! Kevin also appears in a photo-graphic comic from Tia Tormen Productions called “Zombimboz” – on sale now on Amazon and also directly from Tia her own self. Kevin’s website can be found at here.

Not long ago, about a year back, a very rotten kid named Clyde Edson walked the Earth. He was street-mean and full of savvy and he knew what he wanted and got it anyway he wanted.

He lived in a big, evil house on a dying, grey street in Galveston, Texas, and he collected to him, like an old lady who brings in cats half-starved and near-eaten with mange, the human refuse and the young discards of a sick society.

He molded them. He breathed life into them. He made them feel they belonged. They were his creations, but he did not love them. They were just things to be toyed with until the paint wore thin and the batteries ran down, then out they went.

And this is the way it was until he met Brian Blackwood.

Things got worse after that.