Needful Things - Stephen King [314]
"I think it was lightning," Ace said. "Must have hit a tree.
Come on."
As they pulled out, Ace driving now, Alan's station wagon passed them. In the pouring rain, neither driver noticed the other.
They drove up to Nan's. Ace broke the glass of the door with his elbow and they left the dynamite and a ticking timer, this one set at 20, just inside, near the cash register stand. As they were leaving, an incredibly bright stroke of lightning flashed, and all the streetlights went out.
"It's the power!" Buster cried happily. "The power's out!
Fantastic! Let's do the Municipal Building! Let's blow it sky-high!"
"Dad, that place is crawling with cops! Didn't you see them?"
"They're chasing their own tails," Buster said impatiently.
"And when these things start to go up, they're going to be chasing them twice as fast. Besides, it's dark now, and we can go in through the courthouse on the other side. The master-key opens that door, too."
"You've got the balls of a tiger, Dad-you know that?"
Buster smiled tightly. "So do you, Ace. So do you."
7
Alan pulled into one of the slant parking spaces in front of Needful Things, turned off the station wagon's engine, and simply sat for a moment, staring at Mr. Gaunt's shop. The sign in the window now read
YOU SAY HELLO I SAY GOODBYE
GOODBYE GOODBYE I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU SAY HELLO I SAY GOODBYE.
Lightning stuttered on and off like giant neon, giving the window the look of a blank, dead eye.
Yet a deep instinct suggested that Needful Things, while closed and quiet, might not be empty. Mr. Gaunt could have left town in all the confusion, yes-with the storm raging and the cops running around like chickens with their heads cut off, doing that would have been no problem at all. But the picture of Mr. Gaunt which had formed in his mind on the long, wild ride from the hospital in Bridgton was that of Batman's nemesis, the Joker. Alan had an idea that he was dealing with the sort of man who would think installing a jet-powered backflow valve in a friend's toilet the very height of humor. And would a fellow like that-the sort of fellow who would put a tack in your chair or stick a burning match in the sole of your shoe just for laughs-leave before you sat down or noticed that your socks were on fire and your pantscuffs were catching? Of course not. What fun would that be?
I think you're still around, Alan thought. I think you want to watch all the fun. Don't you, you son of a bitch?
He sat quite still, looking at the shop with the green awning, trying to fathom the mind of a man who would set such a complex and mean-spirited set of events in motion. He was concentrating far too deeply to notice that the car parked on his left was quite old, although smoothly, almost aerodynamically, designed. It was Mr.
Gaunt's Tucker Talisman, in fact.
How did you do it? There's a lot I want to know, but just that one thing will suffice for tonight. How could you do it? How could you learn so much about us so fast?
Brian said Mr. Gaunt wasn't really a man at all.
In daylight Alan would have scoffed at this idea, as he had scoffed at the idea that Polly's charm might have some supernatural healing power. But tonight, cupped in the crazy palm of the gale, staring at the display window which had become a blank dead eye, the idea had its own undeniable, gloomy power. He remembered the day he had come to Needful Things with the specific intention of meeting and talking to Mr. Gaunt, and he remembered the odd sensation that had crept over him as he peered in through the window with his hands cupped at the sides of his face to reduce the glare. He had felt he was being watched, although the shop was clearly empty.
And not only that; he'd felt the watcher was malign, hateful. The feeling had been so strong that