Read Online Boys Life by Robert R. McCammon - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert R. McCammon
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Sears in the yard, watching the fiery thing in its last few seconds of descent. Mrs. Sears said, “Sim? Don’t do it,” but her voice was so weak it didn’t carry. Mr. Sears did not speak to his wife, and he followed the other man to a dark blue Chevy parked at the curb. Red foam dice hung from the radio antenna, and the right rear side was smashed in. Donny Blaylock slid behind the wheel and Mr. Sears got in the other side. The Chevy started up like a cannon going off, shooting black exhaust. As the car pulled away, I heard Mr. Sears laugh as if he’d just told another preacher joke. Donny Blaylock must’ve stomped the gas pedal, because the rear tires shrieked as the Chevy tore away up Deerman Street.
I looked toward the west again, and saw the fiery thing disappear over the wooded hills. Its glow pulsed against the dark like a beating heart. It had come to earth somewhere in the wilderness.
There was no sand anywhere out there. The Martians, I thought, were going to have to slog through a lot of mud and waterweeds.
I heard the screen door slam, and I turned around and saw Ben standing on the front porch. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He stared along Deerman Street, as if he were tracking the Chevy’s progress, but by that time the car had turned right on Shantuck and was out of sight.
In the distance, probably up in Bruton, dogs were still baying. Mrs. Sears released a long, strengthless sigh. “Let’s go in,” she said.
Ben’s eyes were swollen, but his crying was done. No one seemed to want to finish the game of Scrabble. Mrs. Sears said, “Why don’t you boys go play in your room, Ben?” and he nodded slowly, his eyes glazed as if he’d taken a heavy blow to the skull. Mrs. Sears went back to the kitchen, where she turned on the water. In Ben’s room, I sat on the floor with the Civil War cards while Ben stood at the window.
I could tell he was suffering. I’d never seen him like this before, and I had to say something. “Don’t worry,” I told him. “It’s not Martians. It was a meteor, that’s all.”
He didn’t answer.
“A meteor’s just a big hot rock,” I said. “There’re no Martians inside it.”
Ben was silent; his thoughts had him.
“Your dad’ll be okay,” I said.
Ben spoke, in a voice terrible in its quiet: “He’ll come back changed.”
“No, he won’t. Listen… that was just a movie. It was made up.” I realized that as I said this I was letting go of something, and it felt both painful and good at the same time. “See, there’s not really a machine that cuts into the backs of people’s necks. There’s not really a big Martian head in a glass bowl. It’s all made up. You don’t have to be scared. See?”
“He’ll come back changed,” Ben repeated.
I tried, but nothing I could say would make him believe any differently. Mrs. Sears came in, and her eyes looked swollen, too. But she managed a brave smile that hurt my heart, and she said, “Cory? Do you want to take the first bath?”
Mr. Sears was not home by ten o’clock, when his wife switched off the light in Ben’s bedroom. I lay under the crisp white sheet beside Ben, listening to the night. A couple of dogs still conversed back and forth, and every once in a while Tumper offered a muttered opinion. “Ben?” I whispered. “You awake?” He didn’t answer, but the way he was breathing told me he wasn’t sleeping. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Okay?”
He turned over, and pressed his face against his pillow.
Eventually I drifted off. I did not, surprisingly, dream of Martians and X-shaped wounds on the backs of loved ones’ necks. In my dream my father swam for the sinking car, and when his head went under, it did not come back up. I stood on the red rock cliff, calling for him, until Lainie came to me like a white mist and took my hand in a damp grip. As she led me away from the lake, I could hear my mother calling to me from the distance, and a figure stood at the
I looked toward the west again, and saw the fiery thing disappear over the wooded hills. Its glow pulsed against the dark like a beating heart. It had come to earth somewhere in the wilderness.
There was no sand anywhere out there. The Martians, I thought, were going to have to slog through a lot of mud and waterweeds.
I heard the screen door slam, and I turned around and saw Ben standing on the front porch. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He stared along Deerman Street, as if he were tracking the Chevy’s progress, but by that time the car had turned right on Shantuck and was out of sight.
In the distance, probably up in Bruton, dogs were still baying. Mrs. Sears released a long, strengthless sigh. “Let’s go in,” she said.
Ben’s eyes were swollen, but his crying was done. No one seemed to want to finish the game of Scrabble. Mrs. Sears said, “Why don’t you boys go play in your room, Ben?” and he nodded slowly, his eyes glazed as if he’d taken a heavy blow to the skull. Mrs. Sears went back to the kitchen, where she turned on the water. In Ben’s room, I sat on the floor with the Civil War cards while Ben stood at the window.
I could tell he was suffering. I’d never seen him like this before, and I had to say something. “Don’t worry,” I told him. “It’s not Martians. It was a meteor, that’s all.”
He didn’t answer.
“A meteor’s just a big hot rock,” I said. “There’re no Martians inside it.”
Ben was silent; his thoughts had him.
“Your dad’ll be okay,” I said.
Ben spoke, in a voice terrible in its quiet: “He’ll come back changed.”
“No, he won’t. Listen… that was just a movie. It was made up.” I realized that as I said this I was letting go of something, and it felt both painful and good at the same time. “See, there’s not really a machine that cuts into the backs of people’s necks. There’s not really a big Martian head in a glass bowl. It’s all made up. You don’t have to be scared. See?”
“He’ll come back changed,” Ben repeated.
I tried, but nothing I could say would make him believe any differently. Mrs. Sears came in, and her eyes looked swollen, too. But she managed a brave smile that hurt my heart, and she said, “Cory? Do you want to take the first bath?”
Mr. Sears was not home by ten o’clock, when his wife switched off the light in Ben’s bedroom. I lay under the crisp white sheet beside Ben, listening to the night. A couple of dogs still conversed back and forth, and every once in a while Tumper offered a muttered opinion. “Ben?” I whispered. “You awake?” He didn’t answer, but the way he was breathing told me he wasn’t sleeping. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Okay?”
He turned over, and pressed his face against his pillow.
Eventually I drifted off. I did not, surprisingly, dream of Martians and X-shaped wounds on the backs of loved ones’ necks. In my dream my father swam for the sinking car, and when his head went under, it did not come back up. I stood on the red rock cliff, calling for him, until Lainie came to me like a white mist and took my hand in a damp grip. As she led me away from the lake, I could hear my mother calling to me from the distance, and a figure stood at the
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