Something Wicked This Way Comes (Green Town 2)

"But hell! You saw the mirrors! And the mirrors shoved me half in, half out the grave. Showed me all wrinkles and rot! Blackmailed me! Blackmailed Miss Foley so she joined the grand march Nowhere, joined the fools who wanted everything! Idiot thing to want: everything! Poor damned fools. So wound up with nothing like the dumb dog who dropped his bone to go after the reflection of the bone in the pond. Will, you saw: every mirror fell. Like ice in a thaw. With no rock or rifle, no knife, just my teeth, tongue and lungs, I gunshot those mirrors with pure contempt! Knocked down ten million scared fools and let the real man get to his feet! Now, on your feet, Will!"

"But Jim--" Will faltered.

"Half in, half out. Jim's been that, always. Sore-tempted. Now he went too far and maybe he's lost. But he fought to save himself, right? Put his hand out to you, to fall free of the machine? So we finish that fight for him. Move!"

Will sailed up, giddily, yanked.

"Run!"

Will sniffed again. Dad slapped his face. Tears flew like meteors.

"Hop! Jump! Yell!"

He banged Will ahead, shuffled with him, shoved his hand in his pockets, tearing them inside out until he pulled forth a bright object.

The harmonica.

Dad blew a chord.

Will stopped, staring down at Jim.

Dad clouted him on the ear.

"Run! Don't look!"

Will ran a step.

Dad blew another chord, yanked Will's elbow, flung each of his arms.

"Sing!"

"What?"

"God, boy, anything!"

The harmonica tried a bad "Swanee River."

"Dad." Will shuffled, shaking his head, immensely tired. "Silly ...!"

"Sure! We want that! Silly damn fool man! Silly harmonica! Bad off-key tune!"

Dad whooped. He circled like a dancing crane. He was not in the silliness yet. He wanted to crack through. He had to break the moment!

"Will: louder, funnier, as the man said! Oh, hell, don't let them drink your tears and want more! Will! Don't let them take your crying, turn it upside down and use it for their own smile! I'll be damned if death wears my sadness for glad rags. Don't feed them one damn thing, Willy, loosen your bones! Breathe! Blow!"

He seized Will's hair, shook him.

"Nothing ... funny ..."

"Sure there is! Me! You! Jim! All of us! The whole shooting works! Look!"

And Charles Halloway pulled faces, popped his eyes, mashed his nose, winked, cavorted like chimpanzee-ape, waltzed with the wind, tap-danced the dust, threw back his head to bay at the moon, dragging Will with him.

"Death's funny, God damn it! Bend, two, three, Will. Soft-shoe. Way down upon the Swanee River--what's next, Will? ... Far far away! Will, your God-awful voice! Damn girl soprano. Sparrow in a tincan. Jump, boy!"

Will went up, came down, cheeks hotter, a wincing like lemons in his throat. He felt balloons grow in his chest.

Dad sucked the silver harmonica.