Chapter 9 9

There were no stoves on the Vermont farm, and Vera came home at the end of October before the flying saucer arrived.She said the UFOs didn't come because they weren't perfect -- they hadn't wiped out the evil in their lives.But she was in high spirits and in very good spirits.She got a hint in a dream that she might not go to heaven on a flying saucer.She felt more and more that her son needed her, and that need pointed him in the right direction as he awoke from his coma. Herb accepted her, loved her as much as he could - and life went on.Johnny has been in a coma for two years.

Nixon was sworn in again as President of the United States.Young Americans are starting to come back from Vietnam.Walter Hezlett took a bar exam and was due to take it again at a later date, and Sarah was still teaching at the school while he was reviewing, accounting for the dumb freshmen she started teaching, now seniors Well, the flat-chested girls got fuller.Those no-name juniors who can't find the door in the building are now playing basketball in college. The Second Arab-Israeli War broke out and ended.Oil crises have come and gone.Gasoline prices remain high.Vera Smith believes Christ will return from Earth's South Pole.This information comes from a new pamphlet (sixteen pages, priced at $4.50) titled "God Under the Tropics" and the author of the pamphlet makes the astonishing assumption that Heaven is actually under our feet, The closest population is Antarctica.The pamphlet includes a chapter entitled "Supernatural Experiences of Antarctic Explorers."

Herb pointed out that less than a year ago, she was convinced that heaven was in the constellation Boötes. "I'd rather believe in Bootes than this Antarctic nonsense," he told her. "After all (the Bible says heaven is in the sky. The bottom of the tropics should be..." "Shut up!" she said sternly, her lips drawn into a slit. "Don't mock what you don't understand." "I'm not mocking, Vera," he said quietly. "God knows why non-believers like to mock God, why heretics are popular," she said, her eyes blank.They were sitting at the kitchen table, Herb in front of an old water pipe, and Vera in front of a stack of National Geographic magazines from which she was collecting photo reports on Antarctica.Outside, clouds were racing from west to east, and leaves were falling from the trees.It was early October again, and October was always her worst month.During this month, her eyes are often blank.In October, he always wanted to run away from both of them: his wife and his comatose son, who might actually be dead.Now, fiddling with the tube in his hand, he looks out the window at the cloudy sky and thinks: I can pack up, throw my stuff in the backseat of the car, get out of here, maybe go to Florida.Or Nebraska, California.A good carpenter can make money anywhere.Get up and go.

But he knew he wouldn't.Only in October would he try to escape, just as Vera would find out new news about the final awakening of Jesus and her only son in this month. Now he reached across the table and took her hand, which was frighteningly thin—an old woman's hand.Startled, she looked up. "I love you very much, Vera," he said. She smiled at him, and for a split second she was very much like the girl he had proposed, the girl who had stabbed his ass with a brush on their wedding night.It was a gentle smile, and her eyes were very clear and warm in an instant.Lovely, outside, the sun peeking in and out behind the clouds, the shadows of the big shutters flitting across the ground.

"I know you love me, Herb, and I love you too." He put his other hand on hers and held it tightly. "Vera," he said. "Yeah." Her eyes were extremely clear...Suddenly, she was completely with him, which made him realize how terrible their estrangement had been in the past three years. "Vera, if he never wakes up...God forbid, but if he doesn't...we still have each other, don't we? I mean..." She jerked her hand away.His hands were suddenly empty. "You can't say that. You can't say Johnny won't wake up." "I'm just saying..."

"Of course he'll wake up," she said, looking out the window at the fields. "It's God's plan, oh yes, you think I don't know? I know, believe me. God's going to make my Johnny do great things. I hear God's voice in my heart." "Yes, Vera," he said. "Exactly." She reached for the (National Geographic) magazine, found it, and started flipping through the pages again. "I know." She said in a childish, stubborn voice. "Yes." He said calmly. She looks at her magazine.Herb rested his chin on his hands, looked at the sunshine and shadows outside, and thought that after the golden October, winter would come soon.He wished Johnny would die.He loved this child very much since he was a child. When he brought back a small tree frog and put it in the child's little hands, he saw the surprised expression on his little face.He taught Johnny how to fish.Skating and shooting, in 1951, Johnny came down with a terrible flu, a fever of 105 degrees Fahrenheit, and he stayed up all night caring for the kid, when Johnny fluently unscripted at graduation as high school valedictorian During his speech, he tried to wipe away his tears with his hands.He has many memories of Johnny: teaching him to drive; teaching him how to stand on the bow of the boat when they went on vacation together, Johnny was eight years old, and the violent swing of the boat made him laugh out loud; helping him with his homework ; help him build a tree house; teach him to use a compass, all these memories are not connected in chronological order - Johnny is the only thread that connects them, Johnny eagerly explores the outside world, which finally Wounded him badly and now he wants Johnny dead, wants him dead, wants his heart to stop, wants the ripples on the EEG to flatten, wants him to go out like a candle that melts into a pool of wax , wishing him to die so that they could be freed.

On a hot afternoon less than a week after Independence Day in 1973, at Casey's Bar in Somersworth, New Hampshire, came a lightning rod salesman.Not far from there, a storm was building. He was very thirsty, and he went into Kathy's bar to quench his thirst with a couple of beers, not to sell lightning rods, but out of long-term habit, he looked up at the roof of the low, farm-style building and saw the hot, gray With nothing under the sky and nothing on the roof, I reached for the leather-covered sample case. The inside of Casey's bar was very dark and cool, and it was quiet except for the sound of the color TV on the wall. A few regulars were there, and behind the bar was the owner, watching TV with his customers.

The lightning rod salesman was sitting on a bar stool with the sample case on the stool to his left, and the shopkeeper turned his head: "Hello, friend, what would you like?" "A beer," said the lightning rod salesman. "Have a drink, too, if you want." "I'm always willing," said the owner.He brought two glasses of beer, charged the salesman a dollar, and put the change in three cents on the bar counter. "My name is Bruce Cullick," he said, holding out his hand. The lightning rod salesman held his hand. "I'm Doohy," he said, "Andrew Doohy." He drained half his beer in one gulp.

"Nice to meet you," Carrick said.He walks away to deliver a shot of tequila to a stern-faced young woman, then returns to Douhet. "From afar?" "Yes," Douhet admitted. "I'm a salesman." He glanced around. "Is it always this quiet here?" "No. Weekends are very lively, and private parties are profitable—if they come. I'm not hungry, but I'm not driving a Cadillac either." He pointed a finger at Doohet's glass. "Continued Cup?" "Have another drink yourself, Mr. Carrick." "Call me Bruce," he laughed. "You have something to tell me."

When Carlick came back with a beer, the Lightning Rod salesman said, "I came in to take a break, not to sell anything. But since you mentioned..." He lifted the sample case and put it on the bar, where the order came out. Stopping the sound. "Ah, here we go," Karick said, laughing. Two afternoon regulars, an old man with a pimple on his right eyelid and a young man in gray overalls, walked by to see what Doohe was selling.The stern-faced woman continued to watch TV. She Hei took out three poles, one long with a steel ball at the top, one shorter, and one made of ceramics.

"What the hell is this?" Carrick said. "Lightning rod," said the old man, laughing. "He's going to save this bar from the wrath of God, Bruce, and you'd better listen to him." He laughed again, and the man in the gray overalls followed him, and Karick's face darkened, and the lightning-rod salesman knew that a deal he might have made was now gone.He was a good salesman, and he knew that a strange combination of personality and circumstance could sometimes make a deal so impossible that he didn't even have a chance to talk, and he accepted that fact, but he started talking later, mainly because of the in a habit. "I just got out of my car and happened to notice that this beautiful building doesn't have a lightning rod, and the house is made of wood, and now at a very low price, I can vouch for..." "Guarantee that lightning will hit this place at four o'clock this afternoon," said the man in the gray overalls with a grin.The old man laughed. "I don't want to offend you, sir," Kalick said, "but did you see that?" He pointed to a golden nail on a small wooden board next to the TV, on which was a stack of papers. "Those are bills. They have to be paid on the fifteenth of every month. Do you see how many people drink here? I have to be careful. I have to..." "That's exactly my point," interjected Douhet, "you've got to be careful. It's not a waste to buy three or four lightning rods. You're in business here for a long time. You don't want lightning to level your house one day in the summer." Right, is it?" "He doesn't care," the old man said. "He'll get the insurance money and go to Florida. Don't you, Bruce?" Karrick looked at the old man in disgust. "Okay, let's talk about insurance," interjected the lightning rod salesman.The man in the gray overalls has lost interest and walks away. "Your fire insurance premiums will be lower..." "The premium is paid in one lump sum," Carrick said frankly. "Look, I just can't afford the money. Sorry, if you talk to me again next year..." "Well, maybe I will," said the lightning rod salesman, and he gave up the effort. "Maybe I will." Until you get struck by lightning, you think you won't get hit, which happens all the time in this business.You can't make a man like Carrick understand that buying lightning rods is the cheapest form of fire insurance he can buy.But Du Hei was very open-minded, after all, he just wanted to come in and take a rest. To prove that he didn't care, he ordered another beer.But this time he didn't ask for a cup for Karick. The old man sat down on the stool beside him. "About ten years ago, there was a guy who was struck by lightning on the golf course," he said. The smell of alcohol sprayed onto Du Hei's face.Duke smiled angrily. "I heard that the coins in his pocket were burned. Thunderbolt is a very interesting thing, really. I remember..." Interesting stuff, Do Hei thought, letting the old man's words flow through him, nodding at the right moment.Interesting stuff, yes, because it doesn't care who or what it hits, or when. He finished his drink and walked out of the bar, carrying a sample case.The heat was blowing in his face, but he stopped for a moment in the empty parking lot, looking up at the bare roof. In 1973, the most expensive one was twenty-nine and ninety-five cents, and the man couldn't afford it, and he could save seventy dollars in insurance the first year, but he wouldn't buy it—when those clowns You can't convince him by standing aside and talking nonsense. Maybe one day he will regret it. The lightning rod salesman got into his Baker, put the sample case on the seat next to him, turned on the air conditioning, and headed west, leaving the brewing storm behind. In early 1974, Walter Hezlett passed the bar exam.He held a party with Sarah. His friends, her friends, and their mutual friends all came. There were more than forty people in total. The beer was as plentiful as water. When it was finished, Walter said they should be thankful I was not kicked out.After seeing off the last guest (at two o'clock in the morning), Walter came back from the door and found Sarah in the bedroom, naked, except for the shoes and the diamond earrings he borrowed money to buy for her birthday. They made love twice and passed out. Falling asleep and not waking up until noon, still groggy, about six weeks later, Sarah found out she was pregnant, which they both believed to have been conceived the night of the party. In Washington, Richard Nixon was slowly being cornered by tape problems.In Georgia, a peanut farmer.Former Navy and current Governor James, Al Carter began talking to his cronies about running for the presidency of the United States, and Nixon would soon be out of office. In Room 619 at the Eastern Maine Medical Center, Johnny Smith is still asleep.He began to shrink into the shape of a fetus. The Dr. Strauss, who had spoken to Herb and Vera in the conference room, died of burns in late 1973.His house caught fire the day after Christmas, which the Bangor Fire Service believes was caused by an improperly installed Christmas tree.Two new doctors, Weizek and Shilang, take an interest in Johnny's situation. Four days before Nixon resigned, Herb fell from a house he was building and landed on a wheelbarrow, breaking a leg.The bone took a long time to heal and it never really got better, he walked with a limp and had to use a cane in the rain, Vera prayed for him and insisted that he put a cloth around his thigh every night when he went to sleep, The cloth had been blessed by the venerable Freddie Cowlesmore himself, and was bought for thirty-five dollars.It didn't help Herb at all. In mid-October, shortly after Jerry Ford forgave the former president, Villa was convinced again that it was the end of the world.Herb finds out about her plan at the last minute to hand over what little cash and savings she has left after Johnny's car accident to the Doomsday Society.She tried to sell the house and arranged with the real estate agent, who sent a car to remove all the furniture within two days.Herb discovered what was wrong when the real estate agent called to ask if a promising buyer could come over to look at the house that afternoon. For the first time he really lost his temper with Vera. "What the hell are you trying to do?" he snarled after she'd finished her absurd plan. They're in the living room. He just called and said he didn't have to send a truck for the furniture. Outside, the gray rain Stopped down. "Don't swear, Herb, don't... "Shut up! Shut up! I've heard enough of your bullshit!" She gasped. He walked towards her in a shattered way, slamming his cane on the floor.She recoiled in her chair and looked up at him with that sweet martyr's look on her face that made him want to hit her on the head with his cane. "You're so over the top that you don't even know what you're doing," he said. "You have no reason, you are sneaking behind my back, Vera, you..." "I didn't! That's a lie! I didn't do... "You did!" he roared. "Okay, listen, Vera. This is my line. You can pray as much as you like, and it's free. Write whatever you want, it's only a postage stamp." Thirteen points. If you want to believe that bullshit, do as you please, but don't involve me in it. Mark this. Do you understand me? "Our Father in Heaven..." "Did you understand what I said?" "You think I'm crazy!" she yelled at him, her face crumpled horribly.She burst into tears, tears of disillusionment in failure. "No," he said more quietly. "Not yet. But maybe we should have an honest talk, Vera. I think you'd go crazy if you didn't get lost and face reality." "Wait and see," she said through tears. "Wait and see. God knows the truth, and He's waiting." "Only you understand that while he's waiting, he doesn't move our furniture," said Herb sternly. "As long as we agree on that." "It's the end," she told him. "The end of the world is coming." "Really? That thing plus fifteen cents will buy you a cup of coffee, Vera." Outside, the rain was still falling.Herb was fifty-two that year, Vera fifty-one, and Sarah Hazlett twenty-seven. Johnny has been in a coma for four years.