Chapter 11 Chapter 6 A Disappearance: A Story from the Summer of 1958

1 None of them were found.None.People make some bad judgments from time to time. 2 The following report is taken from the front page of The Derry News, June 21, 1958— "Boy missing sparks new scare Edward Concrey, 10, of 73 Charter Street, is missing. His biological mother, Monica Manklin, and stepfather, Richard Manklin, have reported the incident to police. The disappearance has sparked renewed panic among Delhi residents. According to Mrs Manklin, Edward did not return home after attending school on June 19. It was the day before the summer vacation, which was the last day of the semester.

When asked why it took 24 hours to report the crime, the Manklins refused to answer.Sheriff Bolton also declined to answer.But according to a police source, Edward and his stepfather did not have a good relationship, and he had slept out before.The person also speculated that Edward's final grades were one of the reasons for his disappearance.Harold, Inspector of the Derry School.Mantecalfe declined to comment on Ed's record, saying it was not appropriate for the record to be made public. "'I hope the boy's disappearance will not cause unnecessary alarm,' Sergeant Burton said last night. 'There is understandable public unease, but let me stress that we get between 30 and 50 missing reports every year. , most were found safely within a week of being reported. Hopefully Edward Conkray will be the same this time." Lil LaMonica, Matthew Clemens and Veronica Grogan) were not alone. "Each case is distinctly different. "Bolton said. But he declined to comment in detail. He said that the local police department is actively investigating and has achieved remarkable results. But when asked when the killer will be arrested, Bolton has no comment."

The following report was taken from the front page of The Derry News on June 22, 1958— "Court-Ordered Exhumation Takes an unexpected turn in the disappearance of Edward Concree. At the request of the County Prosecutor and the Magistrate, Derry Magistrate Earhart Mouton ordered the exhumation of Edward's brother Dorsey for examination. Dorsey Concrete died in an accident in 1957, allegedly.When he was taken to Delhi Family Hospital before his death, he suffered multiple fractures throughout his body, including a skull fracture.His stepfather, Richard Manklin, claimed that Dorset was playing on a stepladder in the garage when he accidentally fell off.Dorset was in a coma after his injuries and died three days later.

Edward Concrete, 10, was missing on Wednesday.Asked whether the Manklins were suspected by the police of being connected to the case of the Concrete brothers, Sheriff Bolton declined to comment. " The following report is taken from the front page of The Derry News, June 24, 1958— "Beating to Death Manklin Arrested Yesterday Derry Police Station held a press conference. Sheriff Richard Botton announced that Richard Manklin had been arrested on charges of murdering his stepson. Last May against Japan, Dorset Concrete dies at Derry Family Hospital in so-called 'accident'. "The autopsy report showed that the child had been brutally beaten," Botton said. Although Winklin claimed that Dorset fell to his death from a stepladder, the report showed that Dorset had been beaten with a blunt object. When asked whether Some kind of blunt object, Bolton said, "probably a hammer.The coroner concluded that Dorset had been struck repeatedly with a hard object of some kind that could crush bones.Those wounds, especially those on the skull, were nothing like those from a fall.Dorset was sent to the hospital when he was beaten to the brink of death. ’ Asked how developments had affected the recent disappearance of Dorset’s brother Edward, Sergeant Burton said: “I think it’s a lot more serious than we originally predicted, isn’t it?”

The following report is taken from the second edition of The Derry News, June 25, 1958— "Teacher says Edward Concrete 'often scarred'" Henrida Dumert, a teacher who once taught fifth grade at Derry Primary School, said Edward Concrete, who had been missing for almost a week, was often 'bruised' at school. Dummer Mrs Turt said that one day just three weeks before Edward disappeared, he came to school 'with his eyes so swollen that he almost closed. When I asked him why, he said his father had cleaned him up because he didn't eat dinner. '." …In a brief telephone interview, Monica Manklin sharply refuted Mrs. Dumert's allegations. "Richard never beat Dorset, never beat Edward," she said, "I tell you now, even if I were dead and stood before the judgment seat of God, I would say the same thing."

The following report is taken from the second edition of The Derry News, June 28, 1958— "Because I was bad, my dad had to pack me up. Before I was beaten to death, the child told the kindergarten aunt. A teacher of a local kindergarten who did not want to be named told reporters yesterday that when Xiaoduo entered the kindergarten less than a week before his death, his right thumb and three severely sprained fingers. "His fingers were swollen like sausages, and he had difficulty even coloring pictures. When I asked him what happened, the teacher said, his stepdad fell backwards because he was running around on the floor his mother had just mopped. Twisted his fingers. In Dorset's own words, 'Because I'm bad, Daddy had to clean me up'. I just wanted to cry seeing him so poor. I gave him some aspirin... Dorce Concrete 10 years old There is still no news of his brother Edward. In Derry Prison, Richard Manklin still denies responsibility for Dorset's death and Edward's disappearance."

The front page of the Derry News, July 6, 1958— Bolton says Manklin will be charged with stepson's murder The following report is taken from the front page of The Delhi News, July 24, 1958— "Crying stepfather admits to beating stepson to death Dramatic twists and turns in District Court trial of Richard Manklin for murder of stepson Dorsey Conkray. Under stern cross-examination by County Attorney Bradley Whitsa, Manklin Crean admitted to beating four-year-old Dorsey to death with a hammer. He buried the weapon in his wife's vegetable garden. Manklin has previously admitted to hitting both stepsons, but only 'occasionally, for their own good'.There was silence in the courtroom as a sobbing Manklin told of his crimes.

"I don't know what's got hold of me. When I saw him on top of that goddamn ladder, I pulled out the hammer that was on the bench. I didn't mean to kill him. By God, I didn't mean to kill him .” "What did he tell you when he was dying?'" Whitsa asked. "He said, 'Stop hitting, Dad. I'm sorry. I love you,'" Manklin said. "Have you stopped yet? 'Finally stopped.'" Manklin finished crying hysterically.Judge Earhart Moulton had to adjourn the court. " The following report is from the sixteenth page of The Delhi News, September 18, 1958—

"Where is Edward Concrete? Manklin, who was sentenced to 10 years in prison for the murder of his stepson Dorset, still claims that he does not know where Edward is. Derry residents can still doubt whether Manklin is innocent of Edward's disappearance, but he can be completely ruled out." The other murders. Because he was in custody when the first three murders happened, and he was already serving time for the last seven. All ten murders are still unsolved." The following report is taken from the Portland News Herald, July 19, 1967— "Murderer commits suicide in Valmouth" Richard Manklin, convicted of murdering his stepson nine years ago, was found dead in his apartment yesterday afternoon. The parolee has been in Sandshank State Prison since 1964 Released, has been living in Valmouth.

"He left a note saying he was in a state of extreme confusion," said Brendon Roche, Assistant Sheriff of the Valmouth Police Department. He declined to say what the note contained, but a police source said it was two sentences : "I saw Edward last night.he died.Edward on the note was referring to the older brother of his stepson Dorset, whom he killed in 1958.He has been missing for 9 years. " 3 Edward Concrete was, of course, dead. He died on the night of June 19, having nothing to do with his stepfather Manklin.Right here at Bann.When Hansko and his mother sat at home watching TV; it was Eddie.Cusbrak's mother felt anxiously on his forehead to see if he had a fever; it was in Beverly.When Marsh's stepfather (a man with a temper very similar to Edward's) kicked her and told her to wash the dishes; when Mike Hanlon was weeding in his garden and was abused by the older children time; at Ridge.When Dorje was peeking at the half-naked women's photos dug out of his father's drawer; when Bier Nabang threw away George's photo album in a panic, Edward died.

Although none of them remembered what happened afterwards, all of them started to start at the moment of Edward's death... as if they heard a cry from afar. The Derry News report was absolutely correct: Edward's grades were terrible, he was afraid to go home to face his stepfather, and mother and stepfather had been fighting all month, which made things even worse.Whenever the quarrel heated up, the mother would yell at each other incoherently, and the stepfather would mutter unhappily at first, then yell at her to shut up, and finally yell at her.But Edward had never seen him punch his mother, and Edward felt he was afraid to do that.In the past, Edward and Dorset were often beaten by him, but now that Dorset was dead, he put Dorset's share on Edward's head. Their scolding happens from time to time.The most common time it happens is at the end of the month, which is when the salary is paid.Sometimes they quarreled and caused neighbors to call the police, and finally the police came and their quarrel ended.My mother always challenged the police that he dared not touch her, and my stepfather never dared to do that. When the atmosphere at home was tense, he had to try his best to behave himself, otherwise, he would know what happened to Dorsey.He didn't know, and didn't want to know, the specifics, but he knew why.He thought Dorset was in the wrong place at the wrong time.They said Dorce died by falling from a ladder while playing in the garage.Whenever his stepfather sat at the kitchen table with a glass of beer in his hand, bowing his head and saying nothing, Edward stayed away—be careful. And the hammer is no longer in the garage. what's wrong with itWhere did it go? That hammer is Manklin's favorite thing, and the two brothers are strictly forbidden to touch it. "If any of you dare to move, I will take out all the offal in your stomach." Dorsey once carefully asked if the hammer was very precious, and Manklin said that the hammer had no recoil, no matter what No matter how hard you try, it won't spring back. Now it's gone. Since his mother remarried, Edward's academic performance was not very good because he missed many classes, but he was by no means a stupid kid.He thought he knew about the hammer. He thought maybe Manklin had used the hammer on Dorset and buried it in the garden or thrown it into the canal.That happened a lot in the horror stories he'd read. He approached the canal.The water of the canal is rippling, as smooth as silk.The moonlight fell on the water, and fish scales appeared.He threw his hat aside and sat down on the concrete bank. The river flows slowly, past where Edward now sits, towards Bath Park and the wooden bridge of Derry Secondary School.The sides of those wooden bridges are painted with all kinds of curse words.Edward once saw it scrawled: "Save the Russian Jews! Collect precious medals!" What exactly does that mean? Edward did not go to the Happy Bridge tonight; he had thought of lying under the bandstand in the park for the night, but now he decided to sit here.The park was a peaceful place, but he thought the best place in the park was where he was sitting now.He likes to come here in summer, because the water level is very low in summer, and the running water just washes the low stones on both sides of the bank, making a pleasant sound.He also likes to come here around late March early April.Whenever the ice and snow melted, the canal became unruly, carrying a lot of branches and garbage.More than once he had fantasized about standing on the edge of the canal with his stepfather and then suddenly shoving that damned wretch down.The wretch would fall into the water screaming and waving his hands, and Edward would stand on the edge of the concrete barrier and watch him be carried away by the raging water.Yes, Edward would stand there and yell, "It's for Dorset, damn it! Go to Hell!" Of course it was impossible, but it did make him happy to think about it—one hand Caught Edward's foot. He kept looking towards the school, with a sweet smile on his face, imagining how the damn stepfather would be washed away by the river.But the jerk at his feet startled him, knocked him off balance, and narrowly escaped rolling into the canal. Probably those gays that the older kids used to say.he thought, then looked down.He was so stunned that he peed in his pants.Not gay. But Dorsey! It's brother Dorsey!He was still wearing a blue blazer and gray shorts, only the jacket was covered with mud, and the shorts were soaked and clinging to his legs.His sunken head was still smiling at Edward! "Edward." The dead Dorset called, his voice hoarse, just like the voice of a walking corpse in a horror movie.Dorset grinned, showing his gleaming yellow teeth. "Edward...I came to see you..." Edward wanted to yell.But the infinite fear controlled him, making him unable to cry out. Dorset's feet were stuck tightly against the concrete parapet of the canal, and one of the heels was bitten off by something. "Come down, Edward..." Dorset's hand was very strong, and he was dragging Edward to the edge of the canal.Edward let out a low wail, grabbed the concrete guardrail with one hand, struggled to free the hand, and then ran forward scrambling, thinking to himself: "It's definitely not Dorcelo Edward finally screamed. Come. A shriek pierced the night sky. As he ran, looking back to see where Dorcey was, he bumped headfirst into an elm. There were stars in front of his eyes, and he fell under the tree.But he still struggled to stand up and wiped the blood streaming from his head with his hands. He looked around, and there was an eerie silence everywhere. Just when he thought he was out of danger, a faint voice came from behind: "Edward, don't you want to see me?" Edward lunged forward again.His eyes were fixed on the street lamp ahead, which was the main entrance of the park.He thought to himself that it would be safe to run out of the woods and reach the street lamp. Something caught up, and it was getting closer. lamp!Just run over there.Do not look back!don't want!Almost there - the stench behind him enveloped him, forcing him to turn his head. What was chasing him was not Dose, but something like a monster in the movie "Black Lagoon": a long, wrinkled nose rolled up and down; green juice kept coming out of the black slit that might be a mouth The pair of white transparent eyes were showing a fierce light; many fingers with sharp claws were covering him like a big net.Seeing Edward looking at it, the monster grinned. It was this panting monster that was chasing him!Edward suddenly understood.It wanted to drag him into the canal, take him to a dark place, and eat him. Edward picked up his speed sharply.The street lights are getting closer.He could see the moths and bugs flying around the lamps.A truck sped past the front, heading for Route 2.The driver didn't even notice that a boy was about to die in 20 seconds less than 200 yards away. Edward despaired.The stench behind him was also getting closer.Finally surrounded him. "Snapped".Edward crashed into a bench by the side of the road.The benches are hard to see in the dark.He fell suddenly, and there was a sharp pain in his leg. He hurriedly looked behind - the monster was approaching him!Those big silver bell-like eyes shone with a cold light. "Ah!" was the only sound he could make. "Ah! Ah! Ah!" He tried desperately to crawl forward, but the monster's fish-smelling hand was already clutching his throat.At that moment, a comfortable thought flashed through Edward's mind: this was just a dream; there were no real monsters, and if there were, they were somewhere else.It's just a dream, and tomorrow I'll wake up in bed, or maybe under the Loudspeaker, and then I—the monster's fingers get tighter and tighter, and he's almost out of breath. "You...not...really..." Edward gasped.But his eyes darkened for a while.He was vaguely aware that all this was real, that this monster was going to kill him. But really a monster?Edward's hands actually fumbled on the monster's back for the zipper - and his hands dropped when the monster tore his head off his shoulders. 4 Plagued by nightmares and unable to sleep through the night, a boy named Mike Hanlon woke up early on his first day of summer vacation.In fact, it was just dawn—the first rays of light in the thick of the fog to unveil a perfect day for summer vacation. But it's too late.Now the whole world is gray and quiet like a kitten walking across a rug. Mike put on corduroy pants, a T-shirt, and black sneakers, ate a bowl of instant noodles, and went downstairs.He hopped on his bike and headed down the sidewalk toward town.The fog is still thick - it changes everything, making the most common things mysterious and slightly sinister.You can hear the cars going but you can't see them; you don't know if they are near or far until you see them appear like ghosts out of the thick fog. On Jackson Avenue, he turned right, passed through the center of town, and then crossed Main Street along Palmer Alley, riding down the alley. On Main Street he turned right and rode straight toward Basser Park.He got out of the car just before the park gate, parked it, and walked toward the canal.He was completely driven by an inexplicable force, and it never occurred to him that his current actions were related to yesterday's dream.He couldn't even remember what kind of dream he had, except that at 5 o'clock, he woke up sweating profusely, thinking that he should finish his breakfast and ride to the city. There was a smell in the park that he didn't like, the fishy smell of sea water, which he had smelled before.Even though the coast is 40 miles away, you can still smell the sea.But the fishy smell in the dense fog this morning seems to be stronger, almost dangerous. Something entered his line of sight.He bent down and picked up a pocket knife.It was a folding knife with the letters "EC" engraved on one side of the knife.Mike looked at the knife thoughtfully, then folded it away.Whoever loses something is unlucky. He looked around again.Just a short distance from where he found the knife was an overturned bench.On the other side of the bench, the grass has been flattened... not far from that place, there are two shallow ditches.Although the grass is thick, the two ditches are still clearly visible.They are going in the direction of the canal. And there are bloodstains! Probably a dog fight - one dog bit the other.But the idea was hardly convincing even to himself.He remembered the bird.The bird he saw at the Kechen Turner Iron Works. Stop thinking about it!Get out of here now. But for unknown reasons, he still walked down the two ditches.A story came to his mind.is a horror story.murder.correct.This is a kid who came home late - hadn't come home after curfew, and then the killer caught him.So what did the murderer do with the body?Drag it to the side of the canal, of course, and throw it in the canal.Just like in a Hitchcock movie. The two ditches he was following could have been dragged by two feet! Mike shivered and looked around uneasily.The story is also a little too realistic. Imagine a murder not committed by a man, but by a monster!Like those horror stories, or monsters from nightmares! He was sure he didn't like stories like that.That sounds stupid.But there was no way, the story still lingered in his mind.A bit of a ride into town this morning for no reason.Tracking along two shallow furrows in the grass was even more boring.His dad still has a lot of housework waiting for him to do.go home.Better go back. But—he went down the two ditches again.There were spots of dried blood everywhere.Although not as much as the blood on the bench, it was still quite a lot. He could already hear the sound of the canal.The concrete edge on the canal bank suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. There's something on the grass!God!Mike flinched, thinking again of the bird he'd seen in the spring. I don't want to watch! But he still bent down to see what it was. It was a rag with blood on it. The cry of seagulls rang in his ears.Mike stared at the rag, remembering what had happened in the spring. 5 From April to May every year, Mike Hanlon's farm will wake up from the long sleep of winter. For Mike, the coming of spring is not the first saffron flower under his mother's kitchen window, not the crickets and small fish brought to school by the children, not the first game of the baseball league, but the father calling his name to let him Help roll the truck out of the carport.The truck was a converted old, toothless Ford, and the seat was William.On the half-rotten sofa that Hanlon picked up from the garbage dump, the knob of a door is attached to the shift lever. Hanlon and his son pushed the classic car to the driveway, and after starting it, Mike exhaled the smell of gasoline excitedly, felt the breeze blowing over his face, and a warm feeling emerged spontaneously. "Spring is back! We're all awake!" The plan for a year lies in spring.The work of the Hanlun family began with picking stones for a year.In order to prevent stones from damaging Li Ye, they had to clean up the stones in the field.Such work takes a full week.When he returned home after checking the stones, Mike asked his father why there were so many stones every year.William lit a cigarette and said, "My father once told me that God loves stones, flies, weeds, and poor people more than other things, so he has to make more of these things." "But every year they come back." "Yes. I think so. That's the way to explain it," said William. In the afterglow of the setting sun came the lone cry of a loon beyond the Kentucky River.The cry was so bleak that it gave Mike goosebumps. "Daddy, I love you." He couldn't help but say it.His love was so strong that tears rolled in his eyes. "Silly boy, I love you too." After the father finished speaking, he hugged him tightly. "It's time for us to go back. Take a shower first, and then enjoy your mother's cooking." At night, when his father and mother were watching TV in the room, Mike lay on the bed, thinking in a daze: "Spring is here, thank God, spring is back." Spring is a busy season, a season of joy. After picking up the stones and plowing the land, they have to sow the seeds.Busy planting vegetables and beans, summer will pass unknowingly, and finally usher in the harvest season.But just after the harvest, the weather gets colder and colder, and the ground will be covered with white frost.Mike would stand at the gate of the yard, nose red, watching his father drive back the tractor and the old Ford.He felt a little lost in his heart, "We have to sleep again...the spring is gone...the summer is over...and the harvest is over." Whether it is the birds flying south or the fading sunlight makes him sad, sometimes Even wanted to cry out loud. Chores and school, school and chores, that's Mike's life.But sometimes not always.Whenever Mike comes home from school, he first puts down his schoolbag, then eats something, and finally reads the note his father left for him.Dad would tell Mike where he was and give him chores like weeding.But at least once a week—sometimes twice—Dad would leave no note.On those days, Mike would feel light all over his body. Sometimes my father would leave other notes for him to shop around.That taught Mike a lot about Derry. But once, his father took him to court to see a terrifying machine that Sergeant Burton had found in the attic.It was an iron chair with iron chains around it, which reminded Mike of the electric chair in Xingxing Prison.Sheriff Borton sat him in a chair and put him on a chain. Mike looked at his father and Sheriff Bolton questioningly, wondering how the chair had become a dreadful instrument of torture for "vagrants" (Bolton's word for it). "What a kid," Sheriff Borton laughed, "those vagrants tied up here for two or three hours are fine, but after four or five hours, this chair is not so good; wait until sixteen or seventeen hours have passed Most of them will cry; and when twenty-four hours pass, all of them will swear before God that they will never dare to come to Derry again. This chair is really effective in convincing people.” Sitting in the chair, Mike suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable all over his body. "Can I come out?" he said politely.Burton laughed again.For a moment, Mike thought Bolton would hold the key in his hand and say to him, "Of course I'll let you out... in 24 hours." On the way home, Mike asked his father, "Why did you take me there, Dad?" "You'll know when you grow up," William replied. "You don't like Sheriff Bolton, do you?" "Yes." His father's answer was so concise that Mike didn't dare to ask any more. But Mike liked most of the places his father told him to see or took him to see.Thus, by the time Mike was ten, William had succeeded in imparting some of Derry's history to him. In the spring of 1958, his father left him a note on the back of an envelope, which read: "No chores. If you like, take your bicycle to Pascher Road. On the left side of the road, you will see many Old buildings and old machinery. Walk around and come back with a souvenir. Don't go near the gate! Come back before dark. You know why." Of course Mike knew why. Mike rode alone to Pascher Road.The road is not far, just over 4 miles. He leaned his bike against a water fence on the left side of the road and flipped over the fence.It was about 3 o'clock, and he could only stay for an hour.Otherwise, he will come home late, and the mother will be anxious. He walked across the field toward a large ruin in the middle.It was, of course, the ruins of the Kechen Turner Ironworks—he'd cycled past it, but never really thought of exploring; never heard of any children going there.Now, leaning over to inspect some piles of bricks that were about to collapse, he thought he understood why. Under the clear blue sky, the field looked very bright; but at the same time, it was also weird—except for the sound of the wind, the whole ruins were silent.Mike feels like an explorer who discovers the last remnants of a fabled dead city. Going further, he saw a huge brick column protruding from the grass on the right.He ran over, and it turned out to be the collapsed chimney of the ironworks factory.He glanced toward the mouth of the chimney, and a chill ran up his back.It was so big inside that he could have walked in if he wanted to.But he doesn't want to go in.God only knows what that black, round thing is clinging to the inside of the chimney.No beetles or beasts of the sort lived in it.A gust of wind passed by, and there was a strange and sharp sound inside.Mike stepped back uneasily, and suddenly remembered a movie he and his father had seen last night.The name of the movie is "Rowden".Whenever Rawden appeared, my father would laugh and yell, "Get that bird, Mike!" and Mike would shoot with his fingers.At last the mother came in and asked them to be quiet, saying that the noise had given her a headache. But it doesn't seem ridiculous now.In the movie, Roden is a large bird dug out of the depths of the Earth's crust by a group of Japanese coal miners.Looking at the dark place in the chimney, Mike felt that the bird was lying there, staring at him viciously... Mike shuddered and stepped back. He walked down the collapsed chimney.The small half of the chimney is buried in the soil.On an impulse, Mike climbed up the chimney.From the outside, it doesn't look that scary, and it's superficially warm.He stood up and walked up the chimney, arms outstretched, feeling the wind in his hair. At the end, he jumped down and began examining the ground: more bricks, twisted mold, chunks of wood, and rusted machine parts. "Bring back a souvenir".Father's note said so.Mike wants a better one. He slowly approached the open mouth of the cellar, looking at the things on the ground, being careful not to let the broken glass prick his feet. Mike remembered his father's warning not to go near the cellar; he also remembered the tragedy that happened here many years ago.He had thought that if there was ever a haunted place in Derry, it would be here.But regardless of those or because of those things, he is determined to search here until he finds a really good souvenir. He approached the cellar door more cautiously.A voice kept reminding him, telling him to get away from that cellar mouth, where the earth might collapse and trap him.Only God knows what kind of sharp iron will be there to pierce his body and leave him with a painful death. He picked up a window frame and threw it aside again.There was also a very large ladle on the ground, the handle gleaming in the sun and looking slightly bent.There was another piston over there, and he pushed it with his hand, but it didn't budge.So he jumped over it—"What if you find a skull?" Mike suddenly thought. "What if it's the skull of a kid who was killed while hunting for chocolate Easter eggs?" He looked around the fields, feeling a little panicked.The wind was blowing low notes in his ears; a shadow moved silently across the field, like a great choke...or the shadow of a great bird.He realized again how silent and strange it was in this place.Those collapsed buildings and rickety iron guys seem to say that a cruel war was fought here a long time ago. In the weeds, Mike found a drawer that was falling apart.He glanced at it, threw it aside, and moved closer to the cellar.There's a lot out there.Sure to find something meaningful. "What if there were ghosts? What if hands were poking out of the cellar? What if dead children came out of there? In muddy, rotting clothes...with no head...without legs...flayed... ..." what!God!Forget it! Another chill.Grab something and hurry away.He bent down and, almost at random, pulled out a gear that was about seven inches in diameter.He took a pencil from his pocket, scooped out the dirt stuck to the gear teeth, and put it in his pocket.Now he had to go—but he couldn't help going down to the cellar.No matter how dangerous it was, he had to see what was inside. Walking forward step by step, I kept reminding myself: "Come on, I have already got the souvenir. There is no need to see that local guest. Dad told me to stay away from it." His heart was beating wildly.But he still walked to the cellar mouth and looked down. At the bottom of the cellar, a bird looked up. Mike couldn't believe what he saw at first.All the nerves and blood in his body seemed to be frozen.It wasn't just that he was surprised to see Renniao, a large bird with an orange breast and gray feathers; but what was in the cellar was completely unexpected.He had thought it to be an iron machine stuck in the earth; but what he saw was a bird's nest, strewn with silver hay.The bird sat in the middle, eyes as black as freshly boiled pitch. Suddenly the soil under his feet moved, and Mike realized that he was about to slip.With a cry, he fell backwards, hitting a hard iron on his back.But he hadn't had time to think about the pain in his back - the whirring sound of the bird's wings rang in his ears. Mike looked back while rolling.I saw the big bird rising out of the cellar.It also has orange on its scaly claws.Two 10-foot-long wings blow the grass on the ground flying around.It kept screaming, and a few feathers fell off, spiraling into the cellar. Mike stood up and ran wildly. He jumped and ran across the field, not daring to look back.The bird wasn't like Roden, but he thought it was Roden's elf. He fell, got up and ran again.The high-pitched birdsong rang above his head, and a dark cloud enveloped him.Mike looked up, and the horse flew by within five feet of his head, before circling and plunging down.As the wind blows, an unpleasant smell mixed with dust hits the face. 他转身向左边跑去，看见了那个倒塌的烟囱。他摆动双臂，拼命地朝那里跑过去。随着一声尖利的鸟鸣，他的后脑被什么东西重重地打了一下，脖子上一阵火辣辣的感觉。他感觉鲜血沿着他的后背流了下来。 大鸟又打了一个盘旋，向他再次扑来。但是麦克在千钧一发之际躲了过去。 他现在沿着烟囱倒塌的方向跑。到达尽头，向左拐，跑到烟囱里面，可能就安全了。那只鸟那么庞大的身体是钻不进去烟囱的。在他就要到达的时候，大鸟俯冲下来，卷起了一阵飓风；从它的叫声中麦克听到了胜利的喜悦。 麦克双手护着头，没命地向前跑。但是，大鸟的利爪一下子抓住了他的一只胳膊。麦克的手臂上一阵剧痛。然后就感觉自己的身体慢慢地挺直了，然后脚尖就要离开地面…… “放开我！”麦克尖叫着，不停地挣扎。突然间，他的那只被抓手臂的衣袖撕脱了。大鸟嚎叫起来。麦克挣脱之后，又跑了起来，一面用手拂去大鸟脱落的羽毛。 他一边咳嗽着，一边忍受着眼睛里眼泪和尘土的刺痛，跌跌撞撞地跑进了烟囱里。不管里面是什么东西，先进去再说。他跑进去大概有20英尺，然后回头看着明亮的洞口。他剧烈地喘息着。 突然，他的心又一沉：如果他对大鸟的体形和烟囱口的判断出现了错误，那么他就等于拿起父亲的猎枪对着自己的头扣动了扳机！而且……这是一个死胡同！烟囱的另外一端是埋在地下的！ 大鸟嚎叫起来，洞口的光线一下子遮上了许多。麦克只看见它那两条黄色的覆盖着鳞片的鸟腿，就像小牛的腿那么粗。大鸟伸进头来，向里面看。麦克看见它那黑漆漆的眼珠，还有一张一歙的鸟喙。 每次开合，那只鸟喙都发出叮叮的声音，感觉无比的锋利。 它又叫了起来。声音那么亮，在烟囱里回响着，麦克不得不捂住耳朵。 然后，它竟然开始从那个洞口往里挤！ “不要！”麦克吓得大叫。 烟囱里的光线一点也没有了，变得漆黑一片！只能闻到大鸟身上令人窒息的气味，还有鸟羽和墙壁摩擦的声音。 “出去！”麦克尖叫着。 鸟羽摩擦的声音停了……然后又响了起来。麦克在地上摸索着，找到了一些砖块，然后接二连三地扔了出去。砖块打在大鸟身上，又弹了回来，撞在墙壁上。 “上帝！”麦克慌张地想。“上帝，不要！上帝！” 但是麦克又意识到自己还算幸运——他跑进来的地方是烟囱的底部，而上部正是他现在所在的地方，一部分扎进了土地里。所以大鸟不会钻到他这里。但是——要是它卡在那里怎么办？ 如果那样的话，他就得和这只鸟死在这里。死在这里，然后一块在黑暗中腐烂。 “上帝！不要！”他大声吼叫着，完全没有意识到自己已经哭出声来。他又投出一块砖头，这一次非常有力——以后他告诉别人，就像是有人在他身后给他的手臂加了巨大的推力。砖头打了出去，这次没有听到打在羽毛上的那种“噗”的声音，而是“啪”的一声。接着便是大鸟疼痛的叫声。烟囱里的空气剧烈地震荡着，尘土和烟灰让麦克不停地咳嗽。 光线又出现了。一开始很微弱，等到大鸟从洞口出去之后就完全明亮了。麦克大声地哭着，跪在地上疯狂地检着砖块。他要阻止那只鸟再次进来。 大鸟弯着头，又朝里面看。麦克发现他的反击起了作用：大鸟的右眼几乎没有了。那只原来黑漆漆的地方现在血迹斑斑。 它看见了麦克，又要往里钻。麦克的砖块又不停地飞了出去，打在它的头上和喙上。大鸟退了一下，喘着气，张开嘴，露出了银白色的舌头。 麦克奋力把最后的一块砖头掷了出去——不偏不倚恰好打进大鸟嘴里。随着愤怒而痛苦的鸣叫，大鸟又退了出去。 麦克抬起头看着上面。他的脸粘满了尘土和烟灰。惟一干净的地方就是被眼泪冲刷出来的两道泪痕。 头顶上传来了大鸟走来走去的声音。“嗒，嗒，嗒，嗒”。 麦克又向后退了退，又捡了很多砖块，一直向烟囱口的方向堆积——如果它再敢进来，他要来个近距离射击。外面仍然很明亮。已经5月了，天不会黑得太早——但是要是那大鸟要等着他该怎么办？ “嗒，嗒，嗒，嗒。” 现在他又有足够的弹药了。他把双手在裤子上擦了擦，等着下面要发生什么事。 过了一段时间——他也不知道是5分钟还是25分钟，大鸟的翅膀又扑腾起来了，然后它落到了洞口上。麦克躲在砖堆后面，把他的“炮弹”接二连三地发射出去。又一块砖头打在了大鸟的腿上，流出的血像它的眼睛那么黑。 麦克兴奋地叫嚷着：“快滚！我向上帝发誓，我要把你打走！” 大鸟飞到一边，又开始走了起来。“嗒，嗒，嗒，嗒”。 麦克等待着。 终于听到了大鸟起飞的声音。麦克等待着它的双腿在洞口出现，但是却没有。他怕那是一个陷阶，又等了一会儿。 最后，他开始说服自己：“不要害怕！我又不是兔子！” 他尽其所能拿了很多砖块，又在衬衫里面塞了一些，然后万分小心地踏出了烟囱口。大鸟不在了。环顾四周，也没见大鸟的踪迹。它真的走了。 麦克的神经一下破裂了。他一边尖叫着，扔掉了手里的砖头，没命地向大路跑去。衬衫下摆从裤带里脱了出来，里面的砖块也全漏光了。他一只手按住围栏，一下子跃了过去。然后推起车子，跳了上去，疯狂地蹬了起来。他不敢回头，也不敢放慢速度，直到到达车来车往的帕斯彻路和梅恩大街的交叉口，他才松下一口气。回到家里，父亲正在给拖拉机换火花塞。威廉上下打量着麦克。麦克迟疑了一下，然后告诉父亲说他在躲避路上的一个坑时，从车子上摔了下来。 6 别管那些了。麦克·汉伦看看那两道一直延伸到运河边上的浅沟。 别管那些事情了。说不准那只是一场梦而已。还有——在运河的边上也有干了的血迹。 看看这些，麦克又向下望去。黑色的运河水缓缓地流淌着。沿着运河的两侧是肮脏的黄色泡沫，有时顺着河水流走，形成圆圈。突然之间，那个圆圈好像形成了一个孩子的脸，眼睛里满是恐怖与痛苦。 麦克好像被针扎了一样，屏住了呼吸。 泡沫又分开了。就在此时，他的右面传来一声很大的溅水声。麦克一下子转过头来，就在那一刻，他确信自己在运河的水流中看见一个什么东西。 然后它就不见了。 麦克身上一阵发冷。他哆嗦着，从口袋里掏出了刚才在草地上捡到那把折叠小刀，把它扔到了运河里。它溅起一个小水花，水面上形成了几圈涟游……然后什么也没有了。 他转过身来，准备向他的自行车走去。然后——他突然加快了速度，拼命地向公园大门跑去，一脚踢开了车子支架，箭一般地疾驶而去。海水的腥味太浓了……无处不在。 有什么东西过来了，他听到了草地上拖曳着的脚步声。 他竭尽全力蹬着自行车，连头也不敢回。他不知道究竟是什么东西……驱使着他到了那里。 然后他尽力地想着家里的杂活。什么也不想，只想着杂活。他终于成功了。 当他第二天在报纸上看到那个标题——《男孩失踪引起新恐慌》时，他又想起了那把他丢进运河里的小刀——上面还刻着EC他想起了草地上的血迹；想起了一直延伸到运河边上的那两道浅沟。