Carrie Chapter Six

Ewen, four years, Grayle all ein truthplacerode him. Graduation slated June sevenerty-nine abutting month. Tested I.Q. of a hundred and forty. Eighty-three average. N matchlessnesstheless, I squ be forth shes been certain at Oberlin. Id guess some angiotensin-converting enzyme probably you, Mr Hargensen has been yanking some pretty grand strings. Seventy-four assigned detentions. Twenty of those admit been for harassment of misfit pupils, I king fit. Fifth wheels, I understand that Chriss clique c on the wholes them Mortimer Snurds. They dumbfound it all kind of hilarious. She skipped pop go forth on fifty-one of those assigned detentions. At Chamberlain Junior High, one suspension for putting a firecracker in a girls brake shoe the none on the card says that little prank approximately address a little girl named Irma Swope two toes. The Swope girl has a harelip, I understand. Im talking nigh your female child, Mr Hargensen. Does that tell you any amour?Yes, Hargensen verbalize, rising. A thin flush had suffused his features, It tells me Ill see you in court. And when Im done with you, youll be lucky to spoil a clientele selling encyclopedias door to door.Grayle also rose, angrily, and the two men faced to each one other crosswise the deskLet it be court, then, Grayle said.He noted a faint flick of surprise on Hargensens face, crossed his fingers, and went in for what he hoped would be a knockout or at least a TKO that would save Desjardins job and take this silk-ass son of a bellyache devour a notch.You apparently maintainnt realized all the implications of in nut ilk parentis in this matter, Mr Hargensen. The same umbrella that c all overs your daughter also covers Carrie White. And the minute you send for damages on the grounds of physical and verbal abuse, we will head for the hills against your daughter on those same grounds for Carrie White.Hargensens mouth dropped open, then closed, You cant get away with a cheap gimm ick equivalent that, you-Shyster attorney? Is that the phrase you were looking for? Grayle smiled grimly. I believe you know your way out, Mr Hargensen. The sanctions against your daughter stand. If you care to take the matter further, that is your make up.Hargensen crossed the room stiffly, paused as if to add something, then left, barely restraining himself from the satis itemion of a unwaveringly doorslam.Grayle blew out breath. It wasnt hard to see where Chris Hargensen came by her self-willed stubbornness.A. P. Morton entered a minute later. How did it go?Timell tell, Morty, Grayle said. Grimacing, he looked at the twisted pile of paper clips. He was good for seven clips, anyway. Thats some kind of record.Is he firing to make it a complaisant matter?Dont know. It rocked him when I said wed counter sue.??I bet it did. Morton glanced at the phone on Grayles desk. Its time we let the superintendent in on this bag of garbage, isnt it?Yes, Grayle said, picking up the phone. Th ank God my unemployment insurance is compensable up.Me too, Morton said loyally.From The Shadow Exploded (appendix Ill)Carrie White passed in the following brusque poetry as a poetry assignment in the one-seventh grade. Mr Edwin King, who had Carrie for grade seven English, says I dont know why I protected it. She certainly doesnt stick out in my mind as a superior pupil, and this isnt a superior verse. She was rattling quiet and I cant entertain her perpetually raising her hand even once in class. solely something in this seemed to cry out.Jesus watches from the wall. But his face is cold as stone. And if he loves me As she tells me Why do I feel so all alone?The border of the paper on which this little verse is written is decorated with a great many cruciform figures which almost seem to dance Tommy was at base screwball practice Monday afternoon, and litigate went cut back to the Kelly Fruit Company in The Centre to wait for him.Kellys was the closest thing to a high n aturalise hangout the loosely sprawled community of Chamberlain could amplify since Sheriff Doyle had closed the rec centre following a large drug bust. It was run by a morose fat man named Hubert Kelly who dyed his cop sick and complained constantly that his electronic pacemaker was on the verge of electrocuting him.The gift was a combination grocery, soda fountain and gas station-there Was a decay Jenny pump out front that Hubie had never bothered to permute when the company merged. He also sold beer, cheap wine, dirty books, and a wide selection of obscure cigarettes such as Mirads, King Sano, and admiration Straights.The soda fountain was a slab of real marble, and there were four or five booths for kids unlucky enough or friendless enough to impart no stake to go and get drunk or stoned. An antediluvian pinball machine that always tilted on the third ball stuttered lights on and off in the back beside the rack of dirty books.When Sue straitsed in she saw Chris Hargen sen immediately. She was sitting in one of the back booths. Her authentic amour, Billy Nolan, was looking through the latest issue of Popular Mechanix at the magazine rack. Sue didnt know what a rich, Popular girl akin Chris saw in Nolan, who was like some strange time traveller from the 1950s with his greased whisker, zipper-bejewelled leather jacket, and manifold-bubbling Chevrolet road machine.Sue Chris hailed, come on overSue nodded and raised a hand, although dislike rose in her throat like a paper snake. Looking at Chris was like looking through a slanted doorway to a place where Carrie White crouched with hands over her head. Predictably she found her own delusion (inherent in the wave and the nod) incomprehensible and sickening. Why couldnt she righteous cut her utterly?A dime root beer, she told Hubie. Hubie had genuine draft root beer, and he served it in huge, frosted 1890s mugs. She had been looking forward to tipping a keen-sighted one while she read a paper nov el and waited for Tommy in spite of the havoc the root beers raised with her complexion, she was hooked. But she wasnt surprised to find shed lost her taste for this one.Hows your heart, Hubie? she asked.You kids, Hubie said, scraping the head off Sues beer with a duck knife and filling the mug the rest of the way. You dont understand nothing. I plugged in my electric razor this morning and got a hundred a ten volts adjust through this pacemaker. You kids dont know what thats like, am I right?I guess not.No, Christ Jesus forbid you should ever have to find out. How unyielding can my old ticket take it? You kidsll all find out when I buy the farm and those urban conversion poops turn this place into a parking lot. Thats a dime.She pushed her dime across the marble.Fifty million volts right up the old tubes, Hubie said darkly, and stared calibrate at the small bulge in his breast pocket.Sue went over and slid carefully into the vacant side of Chriss booth. She was looking excep tionally pretty, her black hair held by a shamrock-green band and a tight basque blouse that accentuated her firm, upthrust breasts.How are you, Chris?Bitchin good, Chris said a little too blithely. You heard the latest? Im out of the prom. I bet that cocksucker Grayle loses his job, though.Sue had heard the latest. Along with everyone at Ewen.Daddys suing them, Chris went on. Over her shoulder Billeee Come over here and say hi to Sue.He dropped his magazine and sauntered over, thumbs booked into his side-hitched garrison belt, fingers dangling limply toward the stuffed private parts of his pegged levis. Sue snarl a wave of unreality surge over her and fought an urge to put her hands to her face and giggle madly.Hi, Suze, Billy said. He slid in beside Chris and immediately began to massage her shoulder. His face was utterly blank. He mogul have been testing a cut of beef.I think were termination to crash the prom anyway, Chris said. As a protest or something.Is that right? Sue w as frankly startled.No, Chris replied, dis bunking it, I dont know. Her face suddenly twisted into in expression of fury, as abrupt and surprising as a cracking funnel. That goddamned Carrie White I wish shed taken her goddam holy joe routine and stuff it straight up her assYoull get over it, Sue said.If only the rest of you had walked out with me Jesus Sue, why didnt you? We could have had them by the balls. I never figured you for an establishment pawn.Sue felt her face grow hot. I dont know about anyone else, but I wasnt beingness anybodys pawn. I took the punishment because I thought I pull in it. We did a suck-off thing. End of statement.Bullshit. That fucking Carrie runs around saying everyone but her and her superior momma are going to bell and you can stick up for her? We should have taken those rags and stuffed them down her throat.Sure. Yeah. See you around, Chris. She pushed out of the booth.This time it was Chris who aslant the blood slammed to her face in a sudde n rush, as if a red cloud had passed over some inner sun.Arent you getting to be the Joan of Arc around here I seem to remember you were in there pitching with the rest of us.Yes, Sue said trembling. But I stopped.Oh, arent you just it? Chris marvelled. Oh my yes. Take your root beer with you. Im afraid I might smear it and turn to gold.She didnt take her root beer. She turned and half-walked, half-stumbled out. The upset inside her was very great, too great yet for either tears or anger. She was a getalong girl, and it was the first fight she had been in, physical or verbal, since grade-school pigtail pulling. And it was the first time in her life that she had actively espoused a Principle.And of course Chris had hit her in just the right place, had hit her exactly where she was most vulnerable She way being a hypocrite, there seemed no way to avoid that, and deeply, sheathed inwardly her and hateful, was the knowl strand that one of the reasons she had gone to Miss Desjardins ho ur of calisthenics and hidrosis runs around the gym Floor had nothing to do with nobility. She wasnt going to miss her last Spring Ball for anything. Not for anything.Tommy was nowhere in sight.She began to walk back toward the school, her stomach churning unhappily, Little Miss Sorority, Suzy Creemcheese, The Nice daughter who only does It with the boy she plans to marry with the proper Sunday supplement coverage, of course. cardinal kids. Beat the living shit out of them if they show any signs of truthfulness screwing, fighting, or refusing to grin each time some mythic chief yelled frog.Spring Ball. Blue gown. Corsage kept all the afternoon in the fridge. Tommy in a white dinner jacket, cummerbund, black pants, black shoes. Parents taking photos posed by the living-room sofa with Kodak Starflashes and Polaroid Big-Shots. Crepe cloak the stark gymnasium girders. Two bands one rock, one mellow. No one-fifth wheels need apply. Mortimer Snurd, please keep out. Aspiring country club members and in store(predicate) residents of Kleen Korners only.The tears finally came and she began to run.From The Shadow Exploded (p. 60)The following excerpt is from a letter to Donna Kellogg from Christine Hargensen. The Kellogg girl moved from Chamberlain to Providence, Rhode Island, in the fall of 1978. She was apparently one of Chris Hargensens few close friends and a confidante. The letter is postmarked May 17,1979So Im out of the Prom and my yellow-guts father says he wont give them what they deserve. But theyre not going to get away with it. I dont know what exactly Im going to do yet but I guarantee you everyone is going to get a big fucking surprise . . .It was the seventeenth. May seventeenth. She crossed the, day off the calendar in her room as soon as she slipped into her long white nightgown. She crossed off each day as it passed with a heavy black felt pen, and she supposed it expressed a very deleterious attitude toward life. She didnt really care. The onl y thing she really cared about was knowing that Momma was going to make her go back to school tomorrow and she would have to face all of Them.She sat down in the small Boston place of origin (bought and paid for with her own cash) beside the window, closed her eyeball, and move Them and all the clutter of her conscious thoughts from her mind. It was like sweeping a floor. mustinesser up the rug of your subconscious mind and sweep all the dirt under. Good-bye.She candid her eyes. She looked at the hairbrush on her bureau.Flex.She was lifting the hairbrush. It was heavy. It was like lifting a barbell with very weak arms. Oh. Grunt.The hairbrush slid to the edge of the bureau, slid out past the point where gravity should have toppled it, and then dangled, as if on an invisible string. Carries eyes had closed to slits. Veins pulsed in her temples. A desexualize might have been interested in what her body was doing at that arcsecond it made no rational sence. Respiration had fal len to sixteen breaths per minute. tear pressure up to 190/100. Heartbeat up to 140 high than astronauts under the heavy g-load of lift-off. Temperature down to 94.3. Her body was burning energy that seemed to be coming from nowhere and seemed to be going nowhere. An electroencephalogram would have shown important waves that were no longer waves at all, but great, jagged spikes.She let the hairbrush down carefully. Good. Last night she had dropped it. Lose all your points, go to jail.She closed her eyes again and rocked. Physical functions began to revert to the norm her respiration speeded until she was nearly panting. The rocker had a slight squeak. Wasnt annoying, though. Was soothing. Rock, rock. Clear your mind.Carrie? Her mothers voice, slightly disturbed, floated up.(shes getting interference like the radio when you turn on the blender good good)Have you said your prayers, Carrie?Im saying them, she knelled back.Yes. She was saying them, all right.She looked at her small studio bed.Flex.wondrous weight. Huge. Unbearable.The bed trembled and then the end came up perhaps three inches.It dropped with a crash. She waited, a small smile playing about her lips, for Momma to call upstairs angrily. She didnt. So Carrie got up, went to her bed. and slid between the cool sheets. Her head ached and she felt giddy, as she always did after these exercise sessions. Her heart was pounding in a fierce, scary way.She reached over, turned off the light, and lay back. No pillow. Momma didnt lead her a pillow.She thought of imps and families and witches.(am i a witch momma the devils whore) locomote through the night, souring milk, overturning butter chums, blighting crops while They huddled inside their houses with jonah signs scrawled on Their doors.She closed her eyes, slept, and dreamed of huge, living stones crashing through the night, seeking out Momma, seeking out Them. They were trying to run, trying to hide. But the rock would not hide them the dead tree ga ve no shelter.From My Name is Susan Snell, by Susan Snell (New York Simon &038 Schuster, 1986), pp. i-ivTheres one thing no one has unsounded about what happened in Chamberlain on Prom Night. The press hasnt understood it, the scientists at Duke University havent understood it, David Congress hasnt understood it although his The Shadow Exploded is probably the only half-decent book written on the subject and certainly The White Commission, which used me as a ingenious scapegoat, did not understand it.This one thing is the most fundamental fact We were kids.Carrie was seventeen, Chris Hargensen was seventeen, I was seventeen, Tommy Ross was eighteen, Billy Nolan (who spent a year repeating the ninth grade, presumably in front he learned how to shoot his cuffs during examinations) was nineteen aged kids react in more socially acceptable ways than junior kids, but they still have a way of making bad decisions, of over-reacting, or underestimating.In the first section which follo ws this introduction I must show these tendencies in myself as well as I am able. Yet the matter which I am going to discuss is at the root of my involvement in Prom Night, and if I am to eliminate my name, I must begin by recalling scenes which I find especially painful I have told this story before, most notoriously before The White Commission, which received it with incredulity. In the wake of two hundred deaths and the end of an entire town, it is so easy to forget one thing. We were kids. We were kids. We were kids trying to do our best You must be crazy.He blinked at her, not willing to believe that he had actually heard it. They were at his house, and the television was on but forgotten. His mother had gone over to visit Mrs Klein across the thoroughfare His father was in the cellar workroom making a bird-house.Sue looked self-conscious but determined. Ifs the way I want it, Tommy.Well, its not the way I want it. I think ifs the craziest goddam thing I ever heard. Like so mething you might do on a bet.Her face tightened. Oh? I thought you were the one doing the big speeches the other night. But when it comes to putting your money where your big fat mouthWait, whoa. He was unoffended, grinning. ??I didnt say no, did I? Not yet, anyway.YOU ?C