Read Online I Sing the Body Electric by Ray Bradbury - Free Book Online

that they dialed and out of which music came.
    The phosphorescence hung quietly in the waves. It was the end of the season. September. Things were shutting down.
    Any day now he might go away and never return.
    Today he must come in the water.
    They lay on the sand with the heat in them. The radio played softly and the woman in the black bathing suit stirred fitfully, eyes closed.
    The man did not lift his head from where he cushioned it on his muscled left arm. He drank the sun with his face, his open mouth, his nostrils. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    â€œA bad dream,” said the woman in the black suit.
    â€œDreams in the daytime?”
    â€œDon’t you ever dream in the afternoon?”
    â€œI never dream. I’ve never had a dream in my life.”
    She lay there, fingers twitching. “God, I had a horrible dream.”
    â€œWhat about?”
    â€œI don’t know,” she said, as if she really didn’t. It was so bad she had forgotten. Now, eyes shut, she tried to remember.
    â€œIt was about me,” he said, lazily, stretching.
    â€œNo,” she said.
    â€œYes,” he said, smiling to himself. “I was off with another woman, that’s what.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI insist,” he said. “There I was, off with another woman, and you discovered us, and somehow, in all the mix-up, I got shot or something.”
    She winced involuntarily. “Don’t talk that way.”
    â€œLet’s see now,” he said. “What sort of woman was I with? Gentlemen prefer blondes, don’t they?”
    â€œPlease don’t joke,” she said. “I don’t feel well.”
    He opened his eyes. “Did it affect you that much?”
    She nodded. “Whenever I dream in the daytime this way, it depresses me something terrible.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” He took her hand. “Anything I can get you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œIce-cream cone? Eskimo pie? A Coke?”
    â€œYou’re a dear, but no. I’ll be all right. It’s just that, the last fourdays haven’t been right. This isn’t like it used to be early in the summer. Something’s happened.”
    â€œNot between us,” he said.
    â€œOh, no, of course not,” she said quickly. “But don’t you feel that sometimes places change? Even a thing like a pier changes, and the merry-go-rounds, and all that. Even the hot dogs taste different this week.”
    â€œHow do you mean?”
    â€œThey taste old. It’s hard to explain, but I’ve lost my appetite, and I wish this vacation were over. Really, what I want to do most of all is go home.”
    â€œTomorrow’s our last day. You know how much this extra week means to me.”
    â€œI’ll try,” she said. “If only this place didn’t feel so funny and changed. I don’t know. But all of a sudden I just had a feeling I wanted to get up and run.”
    â€œBecause of your dream? Me and my blonde and me dead all of a sudden.”
    â€œDon’t,” she said. “Don’t talk about dying that way!”
    She lay there very close to him. “If I only knew what it was.”
    â€œThere.” He stroked her. “I’ll protect you.”
    â€œIt’s not me, it’s you,” her breath whispered in his ear. “I had the feeling that you were tired of me and went away.”
    â€œI wouldn’t do that; I love you.”
    â€œI’m silly.” She forced a laugh. “God, what a silly thing I am.”
    They lay quietly, the sun and sky over them like a lid.
    â€œYou know,” he said, thoughtfully, “I get a little of that feeling you’re talking about. This place has changed. There is something different.”
    â€œI’m glad you feel it, too.”
    He shook his head, drowsily, smiling softly, shutting his eyes, drinking the sun. “Both crazy. Both crazy.” Murmuring.