Коллекционер

           SoIkeptuptheact,Iopenedthedoorandsaidhisnameinaquietvoiceandhobbledweaklyacrossthecellarandupthesteps.Icouldseethelight,hehadn’tlockedtheouterdoor,either.Itflashedacrossmymindthatitwasjustwhathewoulddo,hewouldn’tgotothedoctor.He’drunaway.Crackupcompletely.Buthe’dtakethevan.SoIwouldheartheengine.ButIcouldn’t.Imusthavewaitedseveralminutes,IshouldhaveknownbutIcouldn’tbearthesuspense.Ipulledthedooropenandrushedout.Andhewasthere.Atonce.Inallthedaylight.

           Waiting.

           Icouldn’tpretendIwasill.I’dputshoeson.Hehadsomething(ahammer?)inhishand,peculiarwideeyes,I’msurehewasgoingtoattackme.Wesortofstoodpoisedforamoment,neitherofusknowingwhattodo.ThenIturnedandranback.Idon’tknowwhy,Ididn’tstoptothink.Hecameafterme,buthestoppedwhenhesawmegoinside(asIinstinctivelyknewhewould—theonlysafeplacefromhimwasdownhere).Iheardhimcomeandtheboltswereshotto.

           Iknowitwastherightthingtodo.Itsavedmylife.IfIhadscreamedortriedtoescapehewouldhavebatteredmetodeath.Therearemomentswhenheispossessed,quiteoutofhisowncontrol.

           Histrick.

           (Midnight.)Hebroughtmesupperdownhere.Hedidn’tsayaword.I’dspenttheafternoondoingastripcartoonofhim.TheAwfulTaleofaHarmlessBoy.Absurd.ButIhavetokeeptherealityandthehorroratbay.