Needful Things - Stephen King [5]
Myra said something. Cora listened, fishing Planter's Peanuts out of the can by ones and twos and munching them rapidly. Brian and his little brother, Sean, sat on the living-room floor watching cartoons on TV. Sean was completely immersed in the world of the Smurfs, and Brian was not totally uninvolved with that community of small blue people, but he kept one ear cocked toward the conversation.
"Ri-night!" Cora Rusk had exclaimed with even more assurance and emphasis than usual as Myra made some particularly trenchant point.
"High prices and moldy antique telephones!"
Yesterday, Monday, Brian had ridden through downtown right after school with two or three friends. They were across the street from the new shop, and he saw that during the day someone had put up a dark-green awning. Written across the front in white letters were the words NEEDFUL THINGS. Polly Charmers, the lady who ran the sewing shop, was standing out on the sidewalk, hands on her admirably slim hips, looking at the awning with an expression that seemed to be equally puzzled and admiring.
Brian, who knew a bit about awnings, admired it himself. It was the only real awning on Main Street, and it gave the new store its own special look. The word "sophisticated" was not a part of his working vocabulary, but he knew at once there was no other shop in Castle Rock which looked like this. The awning made it look like a store you might see in a television show. The Western Auto across the street looked dowdy and countrified by comparison.
When he got home, his mother was on the sofa, watching Santa Barbara, eating a Little Debbie Creme Pie, and drinking Diet Coke.
His mother always drank diet soda while she watched the afternoon shows. Brian was not sure why, considering what she was using it to wash down, but thought it would probably be dangerous to ask.
It might even get her shouting at him, and when his mother started shouting, it was wise to seek shelter.
"Hey, Ma!" he said, throwing his books on the counter and getting the milk out of the refrigerator. "Guess what? There's an awnin on the new store."
"Who's yawning?" Her voice drifted out of the living room.
He poured his milk and came into the doorway. "Awning," he said.
"On the new store downstreet."
She sat up, found the remote control, and pushed the mute button.
On the screen, Al and Corinne went on talking over their Santa Barbara problems in their favorite Santa Barbara restaurant, but now only a lip-reader could have told exactly what those problems were.
"What?" she said. "That Needful Things place?"
"Uh-huh," he said, and drank some milk.
"Don't slurp," she said, tucking the rest of her snack into her mouth. "It sounds gruesome. How many times have I told you that?"
About-. s many times as you've told me not to talk with my mouth full, Brian thought, but said nothing. He had learned verbal restraint at an early age.
"Sorry, Mom."
"What kind of awning?"
"Green one."
"Pressed or aluminum?"
Brian, whose father was a siding salesman for the Dick Perry Siding and Door Company in South Paris, knew exactly what she was talking about, but if it had been that kind of awning, he hardly would have noticed it. Aluminum and pressed-metal awnings were a dime a dozen. Half the homes in The Rock had them sticking out over their windows.
"Neither one," he said. "It's cloth. Canvas, I think. It sticks out, so there's shade right underneath. And it's round, like this."
He curved his hands (carefully, so as not to spill his milk) in a semicircle. "The name is printed on the end. It's most sincerely awesome."
"Well, I'll be butched!"
This was the phrase with which Cora most commonly expressed excitement or exasperation. Brian took a cautious step backward, in case it should be the latter.
"What do you think it is, Ma? A restaurant, maybe?"
"I don't know,"