Praise for Joe R. Lansdale’s Hap and Leonard series
“Hap and Leonard function as a sort of Holmes and Watson—if Holmes and Watson had had more lusty appetites and less refined educations and spent their lives in East Texas. . . . Not only funny, but also slyly offers acute commentary on matters of race, friendship and love in small-town America.”
—New York Times
“Lansdale reveals the human condition—our darkest secrets and our proudest moments, all within the unlikely confines of an East Texas adventure featuring the two scruffiest protagonist in modern crime fiction.”
—Booklist
“Hilarious. . . . Addictively scarfable . . . . Lansdale excels atr dialogue, especially Hap and Leonard’s lewd insult-a-thons. . . . Two thumbs-up, and pardon the barbecue smears.”
—Texas Monthly
“Joe R. Lansdale is one of a kind. His Hap and Leonard novels should be read and treasured.”
—James Swain, author of Take Down
“As usual, the dialogue is deadpan tart and the action extreme but convincing. . . . Lansdale once again proves he’s the East Texas master of redneck noir.”
—Publishers Weekly (on Hyenas)
“Tart, smart, and dangerous, Lansdale’s favorite roughneck detectives, Hap Collins and Leonard Pine, take on an apparently straightforward assignment—discourage a man from harassing his estranged wife—in this dark and twisty novella, the 10th entry in this highly satisfying series flavored with an East Texas twang.”
—Publishers Weekly (on Dead Aim)
Praise for Joe R. Lansdale
“There’s no bullshit in a Joe Lansdale book. There’s everything a good story needs, and nothing it doesn’t.”
—Christopher Moore, author of Secondhand Souls
“[Joe Lansdale has] a folklorist’s eye for telling detail and a front-porch raconteur’s sense of pace . . . a considerable literary intelligence at work.”
—New York Times Book Review
“Joe Lansdale is a born storyteller.”
—Robert Bloch, author of Psycho
“Joe Lansdale simply must be read.”
—Robert Crais, author of the Elvis Cole and Joe Pike novels
“Read Joe Lansdale and see the true writer’s gift.”
—Andrew Vachss, author of Shockwave
“Among the best fiction writers in America today, Joe Lansdale turns on the juice and cuts the damn thing loose. Enjoy the ride!”
—Kinky Friedman, author of Ten Little New Yorkers
“Hunter S. Thompson meets Stephen King.”
—Charles de Lint, author of The Onion Girl
“A master at taking a simple everyday event and turning reality upside down.”
—Mystery Scene
“Lansdale reaches the reader on a gut level . . . a terrific writer.”
—Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine
Hap and Leonard
Copyright © 2016 by Joe R. Lansdale
This is a collected work of fiction. All events portrayed in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form without the express permission of the author and the publisher.
An Appreciation of Joe R. Lansdale copyright © 2016 by Michael Koryta
The Care and Feeding and Raising Up of Hap and Leonard copyright © 2016 by Joe R. Lansdale
Interior and cover design by Elizabeth Story
Photographs courtesy of SundanceTV LLC; copyright © 2015 by James Minchin III and Hilary Gayle.
Tachyon Publications
1459 18th Street #139
San Francisco, CA 94107
415.285.5615
www.tachyonpublications.com
[email protected] Series Editor: Jacob Weisman
Editor: Richard Klaw
Project Editor: Jill Roberts
ISBN 13: 978-1-61696-191-6
Printed in the United States by Worzalla
First Edition: 2016
“Hyenas” copyright © 2011 by Joe R. Lansdale. First appeared in Hyenas (Subterranean Press: Burton, Michigan). | “Veil’s Visit” copyright © 1999 by Joe R. Lansdale and Andrew Vachss. First appeared in Veil’s Visit: A Taste of Hap and Leonard (Subterranean Press: Burton, Michigan). | “Death by Chili” copyright © 1999 by Joe R. Lansdale and Andrew Vachss. First collected in Veil’s Visit: A Taste of Hap and Leonard (Subterranean Press: Burton, Michigan). | “Dead Aim” copyright © 2013 by Joe R. Lansdale. First appeared in Dead Aim (Subterranean Press: Burton, Michigan). | “The Boy Who Became Invisible” copyright © 2009 by Joe R. Lansdale. First appeared in The Bleeding Edge: Dark Barriers, Dark Frontiers edited by William F. Nolan and Jason V. Brock (Cycatrix Press: Vancouver, Washington). | “Not Our Kind” copyright © 2016 by Joe R. Lansdale. First appearance. | “Bent Twig” copyright © 2014 by Joe R. Lansdale. First appeared in Rogues edited by George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois (Bantam Books: New York). | “Joe R. Lansdale Interviews Hap Collins and Leonard Pine” © 1999 by Joe R. Lansdale. First appeared in Veil’s Visit: A Taste of Hap and Leonard (Subterranean Press: Burton, Michigan).
HAP AND LEONARD
Also by Joe R. Lansdale
Hap and Leonard mysteries
Savage Season (1990)
Mucho Mojo (1994)
The Two-Bear Mambo (1995)
Bad Chili (1997)
Rumble Tumble (1998)
Veil’s Visit: A Taste of Hap and Leonard (1999)
Captains Outrageous (2001)
Vanilla Ride (2009)
Hyenas (2011)
Devil Red (2011)
Dead Aim (2013)
Honky Tonk Samurai (2016)
The “Drive-In” series
The Drive-In: A “B” Movie with Blood and Popcorn, Made in Texas(1988)
The Drive-In 2: Not Just One of Them Sequels(1989)
The Drive-In: A Double-Feature Omnibus (1997)
The Drive-In: The Bus Tour(2005)
The Complete Drive-In (2009, omnibus)
Ned the Seal
Zeppelins West (2001)
Zeppelins London (2005)
Flaming Zeppelins: The Adventures of Ned the Seal(2010)
Other novels
Act of Love (1981)
Texas Night Riders (1983, as Ray Slater)
Dead in the West (1986)
The Magic Wagon (1986)
The Nightrunners (1987)
Cold in July (1989)
Batman: Captured by the Engines(1991)
Tarzan: The Lost Adventure (1995), with Edgar Rice Burroughs)
The Boar (1998)
Freezer Burn (1999)
Waltz of Shadows (1999)
Something Lumber This Way Comes (1999)
The Big Blow (2000)
Blood Dance (2000)
The Bottoms (2000)
A Fine Dark Line (2002)
Sunset and Sawdust (2004)
Lost Echoes (2007)
Leather Maiden (2008)
All the Earth, Thrown to Sky(2011)
The Ape Man’s Brother (2012)
Edge of Dark Water (2012)
Hot in December (2013)
The Thicket (2013)
Black Hat Jack (2014)
Prisoner 489 (2014)
Paradise Sky (2015)
Fender Lizards (2015)
For Lowell Northrup. Thanks for your determination and dedication.
Tachyon | San Francisco
CONTENTS
Introduction: An Appreciation of Joe R. Lansdale
by Michael Koryta
Hyenas
Veil's Visit (With ANDREW VACHSS)
Death by Chili
 
; Dead Aim
The Boy Who Became Invisible
Not Our Kind
Bent Twig
Joe R. Lansdale Interviews Hap Collins and Leonard Pine
The Care and Feeding and Raising Up of Hap and Leonard
About the Author
Introduction: An Appreciation of
Joe R. Lansdale
Michael Koryta
Different writers have different goals, but there are—or should be—some constants. Here are a few: memorable characters, original voice, stories that make the reader feel something.
I can think of many writers who have achieved those things. Then I think of Joe Lansdale, who has achieved them, lapped them, and redefined them. This wonderful collection of the tales of Hap Collins and Leonard Pine is—somehow—just a taste of the Lansdale oeuvre, but it is a delicious one.
Memorable characters? Meet Hap, a former social activist and a “white trash rebel,” and Leonard, a black, gay, Vietnam veteran and Republican voter. In the hands of many writers, this mix would be disastrous, an overwrought pairing designed to conceal inauthentic storytelling. In Lansdale’s hands, not only does the duo work, but they seem natural together, playing off each other in beautiful fashion. The dialogue exchanges between these two, as typified in the novella “Hyenas,” are filled with more gems than a jewelry store:
“Well,” Leonard said, “in cases like that, the gut instinct is often right. We still know a shark when we see one. That’s why we crawled out of the water and became men in the first place. Only thing is, some of the sharks crawled out after us.”
“That would be the lawyers,” I said.
There’s a smile on every page and an outright howler on every other, but it’s in the momentum of the stories that I’ve always found the true genius. Hap and Leonard do a lot of chatting, sure, a unique patter that seasons their adventures, but they’re always in motion, and the dialogue is truly in service of the story, not the other way around. A lot of writers with a gifted ear for dialogue—and Joe has one of the best ears around—can get caught in a trap built by their own abilities, creating wandering exchanges that don’t do much except show off. Joe’s stories are constantly in motion, and the dialogue reflects that:
“You ready?” I said.
“I was born ready.”
“Scared?”
“I don’t get scared.”
“Bullshit.”
“Okay, I’m a little scared. Let’s get it done before I get more scared.”
We started walking.
There you go—they started walking. They’re going somewhere, these two, and you’ll find yourself turning pages at paper-cut speed to keep up, watching a remarkable feat where Joe Lansdale balances violence and humor, tension and howling laughter, in a way that feels organic, unforced, and perfectly original. Each story or novel seems to begin in mid-sentence, with the sense that you’d best hustle along and catch up or you’re going to be left behind. There’s a confidence to the prose that is simply masterful, a trust in both voice and reader.
There is also—and I think this is overlooked in the Hap and Leonard stories—a hell of a lot of wisdom. Amid the fun and between the punches, there’s the voice of a writer who at times resembles Twain himself—and, yes, I really mean that, and, no, I do not say it lightly or easily.
In “The Boy Who Became Invisible,” a story of Hap in his early years, Lansdale does more than make the reader feel something—he makes you hurt. The early pages, a story of seemingly casual schoolyard bullying, show the making of the man we will know as Hap.
That hit me pretty hard, but I’m ashamed to say not hard enough, Hap thinks of his own role, his moral acquiescence to something beneath him. His one-time friend, Jesse, is becoming a target of ridicule, and what Lansdale has to say about it speaks not just to schoolyard torment but to the dangers of group think, of what happens when you compromise personal integrity to just go along with the flow. When the kids laugh at Jesse, you’ll hurt for him, and hurt for Hap, I assure you. But better than that, and more impressive—you’ll hurt because of Hap. And because of yourself. That is when the character-reader bond has reached an emotional height, and it’s a special experience.
When Jesse spoke to me, if no one was looking, I would nod.
We all carry memories of shame, embarrassment over our own conduct. Lansdale isn’t directing you to examine them; he’s too good a writer for that. The reflection is a product of the story, and all the great things—laughter, fear, profundity— that come from his work will always come from the story. While many writers repeat the show don’t tell cliché, Joe Lansdale lives it. If you don’t believe me, wait until you get to the last line of “The Boy Who Became Invisible.” See how long that one lingers.
Again, this is merely a taste of a remarkable body of work. That’s staggering to consider, and inspiring.
I just have a knack to aim at something and hit it, Hap reflects of his shooting ability in “Hyenas,” and that’s the way reading Lansdale feels—effortless talent, a knack so natural that he just leans back in his chair, puts his feet up, and spins a yarn. Meet him in person, and you’ll leave thinking the same thing, that this stuff comes easily, that he shares great storytelling as naturally as most of us exhale.
And I’m here to tell you it’s bullshit.
Does Joe Lansdale, like Hap Collins, have one hell of a lot of natural talent, a “knack” for hitting stories out of the park and dropping one-liners that are the envy of professional comedians? Sure. Does it come easily? No. It comes from a lifetime of dedicated work, a man committed to craft, a man so aware of how story works and why that he can fool us into thinking it’s effortless. William Blundell once said, “Easy writing makes hard reading. Hard writing makes easy reading.”
I think of that line when I read Hap and Leonard, and when I read Joe Lansdale in general. I think about how smooth these stories go down, each line so razor-edged, each action scene so perfectly choreographed, and I think—this guy has worked awfully hard so the reader doesn’t have to.
You have in your hands a collection by a master. Enjoy it, treasure it, and as you breeze through with a smile on your face and some head-nodding over bits of polished wisdom, be damn grateful that Joe Lansdale has put in the work to deliver it so well. I assure you, the writing is not easy.
But the reading? It’s an absolute joy. You’d best get started. Hap and Leonard are already in motion, I assure you, and you’re going to want to catch up.
Michael Koryta is the New York Times bestselling author of 11 suspense and horror novels.
Hyenas
The hyenas are hungry—they howl for food.
King Solomon’s Mines, H. Rider Haggard
When I drove over to the nightclub, Leonard was sitting on the curb holding a bloody rag to his head. Two police cruisers were parked just down from where he sat. One of the cops, Jane Bowden, a stout woman with her blonde hair tied back, was standing by Leonard. I knew her a little. She was a friend of my girlfriend, Brett. There was a guy stretched out in the parking lot on his back.
I parked and walked over, glanced at the man on the ground.
He didn’t look so good, like a poisoned insect on its way out. His eyes, which could be barely seen through the swelling, were roaming around in his head like maybe they were about to go down a drain. His mouth was bloody, but no bloodier than his nose and cheekbones. He was missing teeth. I knew that because quite a few of them were on his chest, like Chiclets he had spat out. I saw what looked like a chunk of his hair lying near by. The parking lot light made the hunk of blond hair appear bronze. He was missing a shoe. I saw it just under one of the cop cars. It was still tied.
I went over and tried not to look too grim or too happy. Truth was I didn’t know how to play it, because I didn’t know the situation. I didn’t know who had started what, and why.
Jane had called and told me to come down to the Big Frog Club because Leonard was in trouble. Since she didn’t say he was in jai
l, I was thinking positive on the way over.
When Leonard saw me, he said, “Hey, Hap.”
“Hey,” I said. I looked at Jane. “Well, what happened?”
“It’s a little complicated,” Jane said. “Seems Leonard here was in the club, and one of the guys said something, and Leonard said something, and then the two guys inside—”
“Inside?”
“You’ll immediately know who they are if you go in the club. One of them actually had his head shoved through the Sheetrock, and the other guy got his hair parted with a chair. He’s behind the bar taking a nap.”
“Ouch.”
“That’s what he said,” Jane said.
“So . . . I hate to ask . . . but how bad a trouble is Leonard in?”
“There’s paperwork, and that puts me off of him,” Jane said, “but everyone says the three guys started it, and Leonard ended it, and, well, there were three of them and one of him.”
“How come this one is out in the parking lot?” I said, pointing to the fellow with his teeth on his chest.
Leonard looked over at me, but didn’t say anything. Sometimes he knew when to keep his mouth shut, but you could put those times on the head of a pin and have enough left over to engrave the first page of the King James Bible and a couple of fart jokes.
“Reason that guy’s here, and the other two are inside,” Jane said, “is he could run faster.”
“But not fast enough?” I said.
“That’s where we got a little problem. You see, that guy, he’s knocked out so hard his astral self took a trip to somewhere far away. Maybe interplanetary. He’s really out of here, and he hasn’t shown signs of reentry.”
No sooner had she said that then an ambulance pulled up. A guy and a woman got out and went over and looked at the guy on the ground. The male attendant said, “I guess clubbing doesn’t agree with him.”