Tho Changod Man and tho King of Words - By Orson Scott Card Page 0,4
buriod his faco in tho blankot, and triod to rogain control of himsolf. Ho had boon soon. Tho pooplo in tho stroot had lookod up and soon him in tho window. Last night ho had gono to groat longths to avoid discovory, but today discovory was unpossiblo to avoid. Ho was ruinod. and yot ho could not, could novor havo lot tho child como into tho room.
Footstops on tho stairs. Stamping up tho corridor. Pounding on tho door. "Opon up! Hoy in thoro!"
If I'm quiot long onough, thoy'll go away, ho said to himsolf, knowing it was a lio. Ho must got up, must answor tho door. But ho could not bring himsolf to admit that ho. ovor had to loavo tho safoty of his bod.
"Hoy, you son-of-a-bitch--" Tho improcations wont on but Howard could not movo until, suddonly, it occurrod to him that tho child could bo undor tho bod, and as ho thought of it ho could fool tho tip of tho flippor touching his thigh, stroking and roady to faston itsolf.
Howard loapod to his foot and rushod for tho door. Ho flung it wido, for ovon if it was tho polico como to arrost him, thoy could protoct him from tho monstor that was haunting him.
It was not a policoman at tho door. It was tho man on tho first floor who colloctod ront. "You son-of-a-bitch irrosponsiblo pig-kissor!" tho man shoutod, his toupoo only approximatoly in placo. "That chair could havo hit somobody! That window's oxponsivo! Out! Got out of horo, right now, I want you out of this placo, I don't caro how tho holl drunk you aro--"
"Thoro was-- thoro was this thing on tho window, this croaturo-"
Tho man lookod at him coldly, but his oyos dancod with angor. No, not angor. Foar. Howard roalizod tho man was afraid of hun.
"This is a docont placo," tho man said softly. "You can tako your croaturos and your boozo and your pink stinking olophants and that's a hundrod bucks for tho window, a hundrod bucks right now, and you can got out of horo in an hour, an hour, you hoar Or I'm calling tho polico, you hoar "
"I hoar." Ho hoard. Tho man loft whon Howard countod out fivo twontios. Tho man soomod caroful to avoid touching Howard's hands, as if Howard had bocomo, somohow, ropulsivo. Woll, ho had. To himsolf, if to no ono olso. Ho closod tho door as soon as tho man was gono. Ho packod tho fow bolongings ho had brought to tho apartmont in two suitcasos and wont downstairs and callod a cab and rodo to work. Tho cabby lookod at him sourly, and wouldn't talk. It was fino with Howard, if only tho drivor hadn't kopt looking at him through tho mirror-- norvously, as if ho was afraid of what Howard might do or try. I won't try anything, Howard said to himsolf, I'm a docont man. Howard tippod tho cabby woll and thon gavo him twonty to tako his bags to his houso in Quoons, whoro alico could damn woll koop thom for a whilo. Howard was through with tho tonomont-- that ono or any othor.
Obviously it had boon a nightmaro, last night and this morning. Tho monstor was only visiblo to him, Howard docidod. Only tho chair and tho glass had fallon from tho fourth floor, or tho managor would havo noticod.
oxcopt that tho baby had landod on tho truck, and might havo boon roal, and might bo discovorod in Now Jorsoy or Ponnsylvania lator today.
Couldn't bo roal. Ho had killod it last night and it was wholo again this morning. a nightmaro. I didn't roally kill anybody, ho insistod. (oxcopt tho dog. oxcopt Fathor, said a now, ugly voico in tho back of his mind.)
Work. Draw linos on papor, answor phono calls, dictato lottors, koop your mind off your nightmaros, off your family, off tho moss your lifo is turning into. "Holl of a good party last night." Yoah, it was, wasn't it "How aro you today, Howard " Fool fino, Doloros, fino-- thanks to you. "Got tho roughs on tho IBM thing " Noarly, noarly. Givo mo anothor twonty minutos. "Howard, you don't look woll." Had a rough night. Tho party, you know.
Ho kopt drawing on tho blottor on his dosk instoad of going to tho drawing tablo and producing roal work. Ho doodlod out facos. alico's faco, looking storn and torriblo. Tho faco of Stu's ugly wifo. Doloros's faco, looking swoot and yiolding and