The plant - By Stephen King Page 0,87

to enjoy this particular tune." In fact, I did. "Look outside, Bill. The moon's coming up on one side and the sun's going down on the other. It's what my Mama used to call double delight."

"I was very sorry to hear about your Mama, Riddley," he said, and I blessed him for that. Inside my head, however, where he could no longer hear the blessing. Not once we got away from the building where Zenith the common ivy now holds court.

"Thank you, Bill."

"Did she... you know, did she suffer?"

"No. I don't believe she did."

"Good. That's good."

"Yes," I said.

The John Denver song ended and was replaced by something infinitely worse: Sammy Davis Jr. singing about the candyman. Who can take a rainbow, dip it in a dream? Shuddering, I turned the radio off again. But the John Denver song lingered in my head: Gee it's good to be back home again.

We alit on the Jersey side, me in the passenger seat and Bill behind the wheel of the old truck with the fading Holsum Bread stickers on the sides. He had borrowed it from a friend, who hopefully has no idea of what we were transporting, rolled up in an old rug-remnant which Herb Porter found in the supply closet.

When, some hours before, Bill finished outlining his plan, Roger asked: "Who's going to go with you, Bill? You can't do it alone."

"I will," I said.

"You?" John asked. "But you're - " He stopped there, but we were still on the fifth floor, still in Zenith's presence, and we all heard the continuation of his thought: - only the janitor!

"Not any more, he's not," Roger said. "I'm hereby hiring you in an executive capacity, Riddley. If you want it, that is."

I gave him my Number One Nigger Jim smile, the one which features roughly two thousand huge white teeth. "I'se gwine to be an edituh in dis heah fine cump'ny? Why, sho! Sho! Dat'd be purty good!"

"But not if you talk like that," John said.

"I'se gwine try to do bettah! Try to improve mah dictive qualities, as well!"

"This smells like bribery to me," Sandra said. She squeezed my hand and looked at Roger with mistrusting eyes.

"You know better," Roger said, and of course she did. That sense of family was too strong to deny. God only knows what's ahead of us, but we're in it together. Of that there can no longer be any doubt.

"What are you going to pay him with?" Herb wanted to know. "Smiler's Extra Value coupons? Enders will never approve another editor's salary. And if he finds out you're promoting the janitor, he'll shit."

"For payroll purposes, Riddley will continue in his janitorial capacity for the time being," Roger said. He sounded perfectly serene, perfectly sure of himself. "Later, we're going to have all the money we need to pay him a full salary. Riddley, how does $35,000 a year sound to you? Retroactive to today, April 4, 1981?"

"Goodness-gracious-me! I be de flashies' nigga in de Cotton Club!"

"It sounds fine to me, too," John said, "since it's five a year more than I am currently making."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Roger said. "You, Herb, Bill, and Sandra are being raised to... let's see... forty-five a year."

"Forty-five thousand?" Herb whispered. His eyes had a suspicious gleam to them, as if he were about to break down and cry. "Forty-five thousand dollars?"

"Retroactive to April 4th, same as Rid." He turned to me. "And seriously, Rid - ditch the Rastus."

"It's gone for good as of now," I said.

He nodded. "As for me," he said, "what does the Bible say? 'The laborer is worthy of his hire. ' I'm now making forty. How much should I get for steering the good ship Zenith away from the rocks of the lee shore and into the open sea, where the trade winds blow?"

"How about sixty?" Bill asked.

"Make it sixty-five," Sandra proposed giddily. After all, it was Sherwyn Redbone's money Roger was spending.

"No," Roger said, "no need to be vulgar, not the first year, anyway. I think fifty thousand will be fine."

"Not bad for any of us, considering the plant's doing it all," Bill said.

"That's not true," John said, a little sharply. "We've always had the skills to do this job, all of us. The plant is just giving us the opportunity."

"Besides," Herb said, "it's getting room and board. What more does it require? An ivy doesn't exactly need a new car, does it?" He looked at Bill. "Are you sure you don't want me