Bradbury, Ray - Chapbook 14

by Is That You, Herb (v5. 0)

  He opened the front door.

  The porch was empty.

  Thompson showed no surprise; his face grew amused and sly. He laughed. "Allin? None of your tricks now! Come on." He switched on the porch-light and peered out and around. "Where are you, Allin? Come on, now."

  A breeze blew into his face.

  Thompson waited a moment, suddenly chilled to his marrow. He stepped out on the porch and looked uneasily, and very carefully, about.

  A sudden wind caught and whipped his coat flaps, disheveled his hair. He thought he heard laughter again. The wind rounded the house and was a pressure everywhere at once, and then, storming for a full minute, passed on.

  The wind died down, sad, mourning in the high trees, passing away; going back out to the sea, to the Celebes, to the Ivory Coast, to Sumatra and Cape Horn, to Cornwall and the Philippines. Fading, fading, fading.

  Thompson stood there, cold. He went in and closed the door and leaned against it, and didn't move, eyes closed.

  "What's wrong . . .?" asked his wife.