Start a Wiki. Summary Aaron and Doug know something is strange about their new house when things start shaking and rearranging themselves for no reason.
Notes The Demon in this episode is credited as a zombie. Categories :. You can help Nickipedia by expanding it. This article is missing an appropriate picture. So much! And the doctor says sixteen? Ruby turns her book over and over in her hands. They kiss only that one time. It is clumsy. He shuts his eyes and leans in, but something shifts and Ruby is not where he expects her to be. Their teeth clash. The second-to-last time Tom and Ruby are together, on the last Tuesday of October, , everything is strange.
The hose leaks, Ruby is upset, a curtain has fallen somehow between them. Go back, Ruby says. Freckles flow and bloom across her face. The light goes out of the marsh. On the long path through the pitch pines it begins to rain. The chairs seem to leave their places and come scraping toward him. The daylight thins to a pair of beams, waving back and forth. Weems passes in front of his eyes, but Tom hears no footsteps, no voices: only an internal rushing and the wet metronome of his exhalations.
In something deeper than a dream Tom walks the salt roads a thousand feet beneath the house. Like days, like hours, like heartbeats.
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He wakes to a deflated world. The newspapers are full of suicides; the price of gas has tripled. The miners whisper that the saltworks is in trouble. The Ford plant is shedding men; the foundry shuts down. Quart milk bottles sell for a dollar apiece.
Most nights Mother serves only cabbage and soda bread. No more trips to the butcher or the depot or the commissary. No more outside. He waits for Ruby to come to the door. By November, Mothers boarders are vanishing.
Beeson goes first, then Mr. Each morning he clambers out of his closet and carries his traitorous heart down to the kitchen like an egg. Images of Ruby climb the undersides of his eyelids, and he rubs them away. No addresses, mumbles Mr. The world is swallowing people like candy, boy.
No one is leaving addresses. Hanson goes next, then Mr. Weems, Mother, and Tom are alone at supper. He thinks of Ruby Hornaday: her pale blue eyes, her loose flames of hair. Is she out there in the city, somewhere, right now? Or is she three thousand miles away?
Then he puts his questions aside. Mother catches a fever in It eats her from the inside. She still puts on her high-waisted dresses, ties on her apron. She still cooks every meal and presses Mr. Weems is let go. I thought no one was leaving addresses.tokogaby.com/3476.php
Hungry Moon-Quicksilver by Claudy Conn - Read Online
True as the magnet to the iron. He finds her upstairs sitting on her bed, fully dressed in her coat and shoes and with her rosary clutched to her chest. The room is spotless, the house wadded with silence. Now remember, payments are due on the fifteenth. Her voice is ash.
The flashing on the roof needs replacing. Mother, Tom says. Shhh, Tomcat, she hisses. Tom manages two more payments.
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Then the saltworks closes and the bank comes for the house. Ice has interlocked in the shallows, but the water in the center is dark as molten pewter. He stands there a long time. His blood sloshes to and fro, and snow gathers in his eyelashes, and three ducks come spiraling out of the night and land silently on the water. Between the buildings the sun comes up the color of steel, and Tom raises his face to it but feels no warmth at all.
He passes catatonic drunks squatting on upturned crates, motionless as statues, and storefront after storefront of empty windows. In a diner a goitrous waitress brings him a cup of coffee with little shining disks of fat floating on top. The streets are filled with faces, dull and wan, lean and hungry; none belongs to Ruby. He drinks a second cup of coffee and eats a plate of eggs and toast, and then another. A woman emerges from a doorway and flings a pan out onto the sidewalk, and the wash water flashes in the light a moment before falling. In an alley a mule lies on its side, asleep or dead.
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Eventually the waitress says, You moving in? Frozen furrows of plowed snow are shored up against the buildings, and the little golden windows high above seem miles away. Weems is at a lopsided table playing dominoes by himself. He looks up, says, Holy shit sure as gravity, and spills his tea.
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