Salem's Lot

10

He decided that he would call Susan from Spencer’s and have her meet him there. They could go to the park and he would tell her the whole thing from beginning to end.

He could get her opinion on their way out to see Matt, and at Matt’s house she could listen to his ‘version and complete her judgment. Then, on to the Marsten House. The thought caused a ripple of fear in his midsection.

He was so involved in his own thoughts that he never noticed that someone was sitting in his car until the door opened and the tall form accordioned out. For a moment his mind was too stunned to command his body; it was busy boggling at what it first took to be an animated scarecrow. The slanting sun picked the figure out in detail that was sharp and cruel: the old fedora hat pulled low around the ears; the wrap-around sunglasses; the ragged overcoat with the collar turned up; the heavy industrial green rubber gloves on the hands.

‘Who-’ was all Ben had time to get out. The figure moved closer. The fists bunched. There was an old yellow smell that Ben recognized as that of mothballs. He could hear breath slobbering in and out.

‘You’re the son of a bitch that stole my girl,’ Floyd Tibbits said in a grating, toneless voice. ‘I’m going to kill you.’

And while Ben was still trying to clear all this through his central switchboard, Floyd Tibbits waded in.