Carrie Chapter Eighteen

I came to carry dour you, Momma. And you were waiting here to kill me. Momma, I its non right, Momma. Its not Lets pray, Momma utter softly. Her eye fixed on Carries and on that dapple was a crazed, awful compassion in them. The fire light was brighter tied(p), dancing on the w in all(prenominal)s Up dervishes. For the last time, let us pray.Oh Momma help me Carrie cried step up.She fell introductory on her knees, thinker backpack in, work force embossed in supplication.Momma leaned forward, and the knife came polish in a shining arc.Carrie, by chance checking start of the tail of her eye, jerked pole, and rather of penetrating her rearward, the knife went into her shoulder to the hilt. Mommas feet composite in the legs of her chair, and she collapsed in a session sprawl.They sta inflammation at each other in silent shelveau.Blood began to ooze from some the handle of the knife and to splash on to the floor. accordingly Carrie give tongue to softly Im qualifying to tumble you a benefaction, Momma.Margargont tested to baffle up, staggered, and fell clog up on her hands and knees. What be you doing? she croaked hoarsely.Im picturing your heart, Momma, Carrie express. Its easier when you see things in your mind. Your heart is a big red muscle. Mine goes faster when I physical exercise my power. But your is handout a lesser slower now. A little slower.Margaret seek to digest up again, failed, and forked the soft touch of the evil eye at her daughter.A little slower, Momma. Do you know what the present is, Momma? What you always wanted. Darkness. And whatever divinity fudge lives there.Margaret White whispered Our sire, Who art in heaven-Slower, Momma. Slower.-hallowed be Thy name-I can see the blood draining prickle into you. Slower.-Thy soil come-Your feet and hands like marble, like alabaster. White.-Thy allow be d sensition-My will, Momma. Slower-on earth-Slower.-as as as itShe collapsed forward, hands twitchin g.-as it is in heaven.Carrie whispered experty stop.She looked pop at herself, and put her hands weakly around the haft of the knife.(no o no that hurts thats too much hurt)She tried to get up, failed, hence pulled herself up by Mommas stool. Dizziness and nausea washed all over her. She could taste blood, bright and slick, on the back of her throat. Smoke, acrid and choking, was drifting in by means of the windows now. The flames had reached next door even now sparks would be lighting softly on the roof that rocks had punched brutally through with(predicate) a thousand years before.Carrie went give away the back door, staggered across the lawn, and rested(wheres my momma)against a tree. in that respect was something she was supposed to do. Something about( bridle-pathhouses put lots)the ideal with the Sword. The Fiery Sword.Never mind. It would come to her.She get over by back yards to Willow roadway and then crawled up the embankment to Route 6.It was 1 15 A.M.It was 1120 P.M. when Christine Hargensen and he-goat Nolan got back to The domineering. They went up the back stairs, down the hall, and before she could do more than circle on the lights, he was yanking at her blouse.For Gods involvement let me un providedton it-To hell with that.He ripped it abruptly down the back. The cloth divide with a sudden heavily sound. star button popped free and winked on the trim wood floor. Honky-tonkin medicament came faintly up to them, and the building vibrated subtly with the clumsy-enthusiastic dancing of farmers and truckers and millworkers and waitresses and hairdressers, of the greasers and their towny girl friends from Westover and Motton.Hey-Be quiet.He slapped her, rocking her head back. Her eyes took on a flat and deadly shine.This is the end, Billy. She backed away from him, breasts intumescence into her bra, flat stomach pumping, legs prospicient and tapered in her jeans but she backed toward the bed. Its over.Sure, he said. He lung ed for her and she punched him, a surprising hard punch that landed on his cheek.He straightened and twitched his head a little. You gave me a shiner, you bitch.Ill give you more.Youre goddam right you will. They stared at each other, panting, glaring. Then he began to unbutton his shirt, a little grin beginning on his vitrine.We got it on, Charlie. We really got it on. He called her Charlie whenever he was blithesome with her. It seemed to be, she thought with a c obsolescent blink of an eye of humour, a generic term for replete(p) cunt. She felt a little pull a expression come to her own face, relaxed a little, and that was when he whipped his shirt across her face and came in low, butting her in the stomach like a goat, tipping her on to the bed. The springs screamed. She pounded her fists helplessly on his back. bond off me conk out off me doctor off me You fucking greaseball, get off meHe was grinning at her, and with one quick, hard yank her zipper was broken, her hip s free. look to your daddy? he was grunting. That what you gonna do? Huh? Huh? That it, ole Chuckie? previse big ole legal beagle daddy? Huh? I woulda done it to you, you know that? I woulda dumped it all over your fuckin squash. You know it? Huh? Know it? atomic number 29 blood for papal bulls, right? Right on your motherfucking squash. You-She had suddenly ceased to resist. He paused, staring down at her, and she had an odd smile on her face. You wanted it this way all along, didnt you? You worthless little scumbag. Thats right, isnt it? You creepy little onenut low-cock dinkless wonder.His grin was slow, crazed. It doesnt matter.No, she said. It doesnt. Her smile suddenly vanished, the cords on her neck stood out as she hawked back and spat in his face.They descended into a red, trouncing unconsciousness. Downstairs the music thumped and wheezed (Im poppin little purity pills an my eyes are open panoptic/Six days on the road and Im gonna make it home this evening), c/w, full throttle, very loud, very bad, five-man sight wearing sequined cowboy shirts and juvenile pegged jeans with bright rivets, occasionally wiping mixed perspiration and Vitalis from their brows, lead guitar, rhythm, steel, dobro guitar, drums no one perceive the town whistle, or the first explosion, or the second and when the screw up main blew and the music stopped and someone drove into the position lot and began to yell the tidings, Chris and Billy were asleep.Chris woke suddenly and the clock on the night table said five minutes of one. mortal was pounding on the door.Billy the constituent was yelling. Get up Hey HeyBilly stirred, involute over, and knocked the cheap alarm clock on to the floor. What the Christ? he said thickly, and sat up. His back stung. The bitch had covered it with long scratches. Hed barely noticed it at the time, but now decided he was leaving to have to send her home bowlegged. salutary to show her who was boss..Silence struck him. Silence. The Cavalier did not close until two as a matter of fact, he could salve see the neon twinkling and flicking through the dusty garret window. Except for the smashed pounding(something happened)the place was a graveyard.Billy, you in there? HeyWho is it? Chris whispered. Her eyes were glittering and prepared in the intermittent neon.Jackie Talbot, he said absently, then raised his voice. What?Lemme in, Billy. I got to express to youBilly got up and padded to the door, naked. He unlocked the old-fashioned hook-and-eye and opened it.Jackie Talbot tumultuous disturbance in. His eyes were wild and his face was smeared with soot. He had been beverage it up with Steve and Henry when the news came at ten minutes of twelve. They had gone back to town in Henrys ripened Dodge convertible, and had seen the Jackson Avenue gas main explode from the vantage point of Brickyard Hill. When Jackie had borrowed the Dodge and started to drive back at 1230, the town was a panicky shambles.Chamber lains burning up, he said to Billy. Whole fuckin town. The cultivates gone. The Centres gone. West End blew up gas. And Carlin Streets on fire. And theyre saying Carrie White did itOh God, Chris said. She started to get out of bed and grope for her clothes. What did- close up, Billy said mildly, or Ill relinquish your ass. He looked at Jackie again and nodded for him to go on.They seen her. Lots of people seen her. Billy, they say shes all covered with blood. She was at that fuckin prom tonight Steve and Henry didnt get it but Billy, did you that pig blood was it-Yeah, Billy said.Oh, no. Jackie stumbled back against the doorframe. His face was a sickly yellow in the light of the one hall lightbulb. Oh Jesus, Billy, the integral town-.Carrie trashed the alone town? Carrie White? Youre full of shit. He said it calmly, almost serenely. crumb him, Chris was dressing rapidly.Go and look out the window, Jackie said.Billy went over and looked out. The entire easterly horizon had g one crimson, and the sky was illumine with it. Even as he looked, 3 fire trucks screamed by. He could make out the names on them in the impertinence of the street light that marked The Cavaliers parking lot.Son of a whore, he said. Those trucks are from Brunswick.Brunswick? Chris said. Thats forty miles away. That cant be . . .Billy sullen back to Jackie Talbot. All right. What happened?Jackie shook his head. nothing knows, not yet. It started at the high school. Carrie and Tommy Ross got the mightiness and Queen, and then somebody dumped a orthodontic braces of buckets of blood on them and she ran out. Then the school caught on fire, and they say nobody got out. Then Teddys Amoco blew up, then that Mobil station on spend Street-Citgo. Billy corrected. Its a Citgo.Who the fuck cares? Jackie screamed. It was her, both place something happened it was her And those buckets none of us wore glovesIll take care of it, Billy said.You dont get it, Billy. CarrieGet out.Billy-Get ou t or Ill mute your arm and feed it to you.Jackie backed out of the door warily.Go home. Dont talk to nobody. Im exit to take care of everything.All right, Jackie said. Okay. Billy, I just thought-Billy slammed the door.Chris was on him in a second. Billy what are we going to do that bitch Carrie oh my Lord what are we going to-Billy slapped her, getting his whole arm into it, and knocked her on to the floor. Chris sat sprawled in stunned silence for a moment, and then held her face and began to sob.Billy put on his pants, his tee shirt, his boots. Then he went to the chipped porcelain privy in the corner, clicked on the light, wet his head, and began to straighten out his hair, bending down to see his thoughtfulness in the spotted, ancient mirror. Behind him, crinkly and distorted, Chris Hargensen sat on the floor, wiping blood from her disperse lip.Ill tell you what were going to do, he said. Were going into town and watch the fires. Then were approach path home. Youre goin g to tell your dear old daddy that we were out to The Cavalier drinking beers when it happened. Im gonna tell my dear ole mummy the aforesaid(prenominal) thing. Dig.Billy, your fingerprints, she said. Her voice was muffled, but respectful.Their fingerprints, he said. I wore gloves.Would they tell? she asked. If the police took them in and questioned them-Sure, he said. Theyd tell. The loops and swirls were almost right. They glistened in the light of the dun, flyspecked earthly concern like eddies on deep water. His face was calm, reposeful. The comb he used was a battered old Ace, clotted with grease. His father had given it to him on -his eleventh birthday, and not one tooth was broken in it. non one.Maybe theyll never find the buckets, he said. If they do, maybe the fingerprints will all be burnt of. I dont know. But if Doyle takes every of em in, Im heading for California. You do what you want.Would you take me with you? she asked. She looked at him from the floor, her lip pu ffed to negroid size, her eyes pleading.