Needful Things - Stephen King [75]
She went back to check it again, and while she was checking, the telephone began to ring. She hurried back into the house with the key to the armoire clutched in her sweaty right hand. She barked her shin on a footstool and cried out in pain.
By the time she got to the living room, the telephone had stopped again.
"I can't go to work today," she muttered. "I have to to.. (stand guard) That was it. She had to stand guard.
She picked up the phone and dialled quickly before her mind could start to gnaw at itself again, the way Raider gnawed at his rawhide chewy toys.
"Hello?" Polly said. "This is You Sew and Sew."
"Hi, Polly. It's me."
"Nettle? Is everything all right?"
"Yes, but I'm calling from home, Polly. My stomach is upset."
By now this was no lie. "I wonder if I could have the day off. I know about vacuuming the upstairs and the telephone man is coming but "
"That's all right," Polly said at once. "The phone man isn't coming until two, and I meant to leave early today, anyway. My hands still hurt too much to work for long. I'll let him in."
"If you really need me, I could-" "No, really," Polly assured her warmly, and Nettle felt tears prick her eyes. Polly was so kind.
"Are they sharp pains, Nettle? Shall I call Dr. Van Allen for you.
"No-just kind of crampy. I'll be all right. If I can come in this afternoon, I will."
"Nonsense," Polly said briskly. "You haven't asked for a day off since you came to work for me. just crawl into bed and go back to sleep. Fair warning: if you try to come in, I'll just send you home."
"Thank you, Polly," Nettle said. She was on the verge of tears.
"You're very good to me."
"YOU deserve goodness. I've got to go, Nettle-customers. Lie down. I'll call this afternoon to see how you're doing."
"Thank you. "You're More than welcome. Bye-bye."
"Toodle-oo," Nettle said, and hung up.
She went at once to the window and twitched the curtain aside.
The street was empty-for now. She went back into the shed, used the key to open the armoire, and took out the lampshade. A feeling of calm and ease settled over her as soon as she had it cradled in her arms. She took it into the kitchen, washed it in warm, soapy water, rinsed it, and dried it carefully.
She opened one of the kitchen drawers and removed her butcher knife. She took this and the lampshade back into the living room and sat down in the gloom. She sat that way all morning, bolt upright in her chair, the lampshade in her lap and the butcher knife clenched in her right hand.
The phone rang twice.
Nettle didn't answer it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Friday, the eleventh of October, was a banner day at Castle Rock's newest shop, particularly as morning gave way to afternoon and people began to cash their paychecks. Money in the hand was an incentive to shop; so was the good word of mouth sent around by those who had stopped in on Wednesday. There were a number of people, of course, who believed the judgments of people crude enough to visit a new store on the very first day it was open could not be trusted, but they were a minority, and the small silver bell over the front door of Needful Things jingled prettily all day long.
More stock had been either unpacked or delivered since Wednesday.
It was hard for those interested in such things to believe there had been a delivery-no one had seen a truck-but it really didn't matter much, one way or the other. There was a lot more merchandise in Needful Things on Friday; that was the important thing.
Dolls, for instance. And beautifully crafted wooden jigsaw puzzles, some of them double-sided. There was a unique chess set: the pieces were chunks of rock crys@ carved into African animals by some primitive but fabulously talented hand-loping giraffes for