Authors: Richard Matheson
He started up.
Every step was an agony that shot twisting bolts of pain through him. With every step, he felt certain that he was about to collapse and roll back down the stairs. He gripped the bannister frenziedly and held on until his palms hurt. Then, after hesitating a moment, he started up again.
He reached the second floor and stumbled around the landing and started up again.
The stairs creaked and groaned and whispered under his awkward, unsteady feet. Oh God, don’t let anyone see me, he begged without knowing who he was begging. He pulled himself up, using his arms and wrists more than his legs.
The burning was growing worse. His shoulder ached and throbbed and felt as if it were aflame. He felt jabbing knifelike twinges in the back of his neck and down to his fingertips. He felt as if he were coming apart. For the first time he felt a thin trickle of blood running down the small of his back.
Third floor.
He turned around and moved along the landing, holding tightly to the bannister.
A door opened suddenly and he jumped as a tangle-haired woman staggered down to the bathroom in a wrinkled pink slip. He saw her unsheathed buttocks jiggling as she moved. She belched loudly and it rang in the still musty air. He heard the bathroom door slam as he moved up the last flight.
He had to make it now. Only one more flight. Oh God, God help me. All right so I broke your rule. I stole. I know I stole. But I had to. You know that. Help me up. Just one more flight. Please help me up. One more little flight. If you do I’ll
Oh, God help me!
He groaned in agony and sank down to his knees half way up the flight. The stairs ran like water under his eyes. His legs felt like melting rubber. His back and shoulders were on fire.
He gritted his teeth and his face drained completely white and etched itself with sudden pain-crazed fury.
All right,
don’t
help me! I’ll help myself!
He drove himself up, pulling on the bannister with all his strength. He cursed at everything, mostly at God who had not answered him.
“I’m stronger than
you
,” he gasped crazily, “I’ll get there without you, damn you!”
Sweat ran in rivulets down his temples and across his cheeks. He groaned, then cut it off, afraid someone would hear. Breaths fell from his mouth like bursts of hot air. His white fingers clutched at the bannister as he pulled himself up, whining and trying not to whine. You’ve got the money, he kept encouraging himself, you’re free now! You can leave her. He fired the message to shuddering, weakening muscles. Get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow you’ll…
He reached the fourth floor with a convulsive lurch.
He stood there trembling violently, looking down the bottomless stairwell with a look of wild, defiant triumph on his face.
“I made it,” he hissed, “I made it.
Alone.”
Then he stumbled toward his door, fumbling for the key.
“Oh God, it hurts,” he muttered.
The key slid in, the door flew open as he fell against it. It crashed against the wall and he staggered in and slammed it behind him. The lock caught fast. He reached up and swept off his hat and threw it into the darkness, gasping at the pain his lifted arm caused.
He pulled out the money.
But his fingers wouldn’t hold it. He heard it all fluttering down and thumping lightly on the rug.
He didn’t care. Forget about it! He twisted his shoulders back in agony and let his coat slip heavily to the floor as he moved for the bed.
He tried to reach up and turn on the light.
The motion sucked the breath from him. He felt his legs vibrating helplessly and he reached out one palsied hand to find the bed.
Muscles lost control.
Suddenly he found himself falling in the darkness. Falling, falling, it seemed he’d never land. He clawed out wildly for support and his fingers brushed over something flat and smooth and it thudded down on the floor.
He landed on the bed. Heavily.
PAIN!!!
A scream tore up through his throat breaking off into a bubbling croak of utter physical agony as someone clouted him across the back with the razor edge of a huge meat cleaver.
He fell back on the bed, his left leg jerking up spasmodically and the room spun around, the night ran. He wallowed in pain, sank in it, felt it soaking over him like waters from a black vat.
“Mother!”
The scream went echoing down the hallways of his brain.
Then his head lolled to the side and the crushing agony swallowed him alive.
Later, the cat got tired of scratching at the door and went out the window again. Erick heard it meowing to the old lady and the old lady meowing back.
Staring
.
Room gets dark gets light Sunlight a tide that swells and ebbs Smile of God bless us all bless ‘em all long short tall What does Lynn do He’s a public relations man He does all right for himself doesn’t he Yes Leo bitch witch itch titch He does does not Roof leaks spot on ceiling proves it Proves what What? Ceiling sport on ceiling what? Ceiling wax No sport Ceiling Waes new branch O, a branch on a limb and a limb on a tree and a tree in the woods and the green grass grew all round all round, the green grass grew all There that will hold the little bastards Church bells ringing dinging donging ding dong up yours with gauze ding dong anyone show just cause why this man this woman ought not be Hungry thirsty light bulb chain hanging down Marley dead as doornail polish with deepest regrets Armpits stink they reek Next reek East Lynne and here I am hidden away like a black pit in a watermelon ave pit arm pit snake pit pit pendulum Poe woe moe ain’t gwine be no more anamotopoeia pickle nickel I’m a nickel short sir I need it badly OLD FOOL!!…
Face hardening. Struggle. Reluctant easing of fury
.
What’s going on it’s Perkins sir we’re ‘aving a bit of a time below stairs I said where did that damn chain come from God knows I’m hungry I’m thirsty I want to get up so I want to When you wish upon a star Oh! Pain chain gas and water main thirsty there it goes Nose itches Time is it? Afternoon guess break swords into ploughshares no bomb casings ho ho that’s rich that’s Sam you made the day too long Male and Female created he Gloria Swanson based on teeth sticking out Drop da gun Louie Here’s my plan John to hell with the Germans I say let’s declare war on the second looies It’s okay with me Erick John you John I John… hungry Feel sick Must Please must get up Think I’m God, what am I going to do?… Wall dirty Odd yes messy dirty hurty wakey wakey pip pip righto There’ll always be an England seven inch cigar Bless land God bless ‘em all long short and tear her tattered ensign down long has she was mine I tell you all wall floor money shoo shot in the back Paralyzed here now No move I’m hungry thirsty hunger thirst Hunger and Thirst good title for a book What is the hunger for food to compare with the hunger for knowledge What is the thirst for water beside the thirst to know I saw that What a fool I was who made his prayer to Our Father with Art in heaven Harold be thy name How now brown cow cow cow now I have to shit I have to crap I have to God damn it all I have to oh
PAIN PAIN
!…
Head rolling on pillow. Lips drawn back. Sweat breaking out on forehead and upper lip
.
Oh my God that was awful it felt like fire in the belly Judge Holmes sweet home The closet door is ajar when isn’t a door a look the rose is opening It’s dying Look at it makes me want to cry it’s so beautiful We die in order to live Each moment of life prepares us for death The petals are so delicately colored Yellow in the middle Deep pink on the edges They’ll fall in the water Look at that will you I’m so thirsty I could My throat is dry Stop off at the next oasis Ali and don’t dare When I think of all the times I spit and threw water away and pissed it out and was glad to get rid of it What the hell was wrong with me It’s true Food isn’t as important When you lie still like this it doesn’t bother you I wonder what it’s like to fast to slow fast slow past snow know Mahatma knew Jesus knew Why did they fast There must be something to it I’ll learn, no I won’t I’ll be out of here by late tonight at the most I’ll get this dam wound treated somewhere Where shall I go I always wanted to go to California Calif hr I k Took me three months to learn that damn speed-writing and what for So I can write dirty jokes on bathroom walls without anyone understanding My head itches damn my underwear is still wet God is that my foot itching for Christ sake it feels like somebody else’s foot wonder what time it must be late in the afternoon Soon to pass to leafy bowers and crying out for rains and moon struck cloudy hours What in hell is that Poetry you horses ass Where am I Oh On Third Avenue All alone by the what happened to my Take it easy will you! Stop being so scared There’s nothing to be afraid of Okay Oh Kay You too George poor guy cut off in his prime Who has it in for us poor wonder boys You include your meager pen in this majestic scrap pile? Well didn’t I sell a story Yes one story and for twenty five dollars So what you ass Great oaks from little What are you going to do with it Retire or put it back into the capitalistic system to rejuvenate used up factories or buy boats and send wheat to the Indians Hunger they know what real hunger is They are born with hunger live and die with hunger It bestrides their frail backs like old men of the sea made of lead It cackles obscene death jokes in their ears It grinds them to dust Hunger Hunger Hunger it is all it is everything when it is anything It crowds out mind and spirit unless it is deliberate but we are not holy men Congress almighty I am a child and do not care for freedom of this and that when my belly is swollen for lack of eating Sir do you not understand Who gives me good in my hunger gives me everything Give me bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who…
Eyes closed. Sense of holiness, of martyrdom. Passing
.
I don’t feel like thinking. I wish I were there you are lettuce and cabbage take me out of this to the ball game Coat go too and the hat and shoes dirty and my dirty mud caked memories Dreams of long ago and far away I dream a dream one day and night night and the music music music…
God will you look at that water right there beside me My throat is drying up I can feel the flesh evaporating There goes some I wish it would rain or something or I said it once and I’ll say it again this room is too damn dry and airless Oh stop thinking will you Isn’t there a way to stop it? Throw a bridle on the mind and stop it Oh the church bells again The half hour Ava get off the floor you naughty girl Ava what kind of name is that Ava Maria Ava Avavavavavava…
Take up your bed and walk…
I wonder what he was like No crap now What would he say to me now The carpenter the Jew the healer the master the Christ? I wonder God I do I really wonder seriously Did he smile often Did he work hard Did he have big muscles Did he have a good tan Was his beard well kept Did he lux his Now stop that Well why? It’s a weakness when you can’t joke about something Anyway Jesus laughed sure he must have laughed Could such a man not laugh Could he love children and be a solemn pill No sire not Jesus Jones Wonder if he had a last name middle name Christian name Ha ha What does it matter anyway? Was he tall How much did he weigh Did he never have a woman in his arms whom he loved with a sensual love He must have He was human wasn’t he? It is all so hidden in mists
Nail Him Up Boys
or
How to Build a Church in One Easy Lesson
. He was a man I say this and I am alone and helpless and hungry and thirsty and I am thinking hard on this thing He was a man a wonderful man who loved and hated but loved more Who healed and scourged but healed more Who lived and died but did not die Did he get up? Big question no one can answer not the books and scrolls the parchments dry with age the holy men dry with age I say he died he never got up My word is as good as any other Here I am shot in the back on Third Avenue in New York City and my word is as good as any other in the world What’s the difference if he died He was good and kind he died for his beliefs What more could any God do He gave us love Us? Are you including yourself You who stole and struck and hated and SHUT UP!!!…
Face contorted, angry, hating, murderous. Then, plaintive
.
Shut up your doors Nail shutters on the windows of your mind Oh for God’s sake how long can I lie here like this staring at the ceiling and a rose and money and a jumbled up overcoat How long before it all bursts out in a crazy scream How long before it clamps my teeth and sets my face in a gaping grin? When do I start drooling and blubbering and befouling the walls with idiot soliloquies When? WHEN? Oh stop…
No it doesn’t stop It won’t stop It runs on and on like a berserk machine I was wrong to start it Wrong to press the button tug the string and set the top to buzzing Wrong? Wrong I didn’t know I should have known but I didn’t know I thought… I thought… grind to a halt.
No…
Hopelessness
.
Leo where are you At the office aren’t you wondering about me Why did I meet you Who planned it? Well I don’t want to think about it Think of something else Think of California maybe Here I come right back where I Who did? Me did Maybe in another life When I was a mongoose No a burro No I know I was the jerk who discovered gold at Sutter’s Mill or Alexander No that’s too grand I was the little man the fuckup the fubar boy the guy who drove nails into his palms The slob who invented gunpowder The last one to maintain that the world was flat I was the J. Wesley Smith of all time Oh get me out of here shut off the steam tighten the faucet pull the cord Get me out of…
Sudden resolution. Face relaxing. Thin smile
.
I know I’ll close my eyes and pretend I’m back at college I just finished my last examination I got an A in it and tonight I’m going over to Sally’s house for dinner we’ll be alone and we’ll eat together and love together and we’ll sleep in each other’s arms Oh God no don’t think of that Think of something else To have thrown that diamond aside I… God leave me be! Stroke me a mental mute Tear all memories from my mind Tip me oh lord and pour me empty of recollection Let me become a jelly let me grow into the bed into the floors into the walls Let me be the room creaking and dumb and never remembering The log is a happy creature He cannot mourn He cannot hope He cannot think…