Read Eye in the Sky (1957) for Free Online Page A

day,” Hamilton answering, temper rising.
    “Yes,” Miss Reiss agreed, backing warily away from the puzzled tomcat. “I can see he’s quite a killer.
Cer tainly, in the city, there ought to be
some kind of prohib itive ordinance. Destructive pets, vicious animals that
are a menace, should at least have licenses. And the city really should—”
    “Not
only birds,” Hamilton interrupted, a cold ruthless sadism sliding over
him, “but snakes and gophers. And this morning he showed up with a dead
rabbit.”
    “Darling,” Marsha said sharply. Miss Reiss was shrink ing away in genuine fear. “Some people don’t like
cats. You can’t expect everybody to share
your tastes.”
    “Little
furry mice, too,” Hamilton said brutally. “By the dozen. Part he
eats, part he brings to us. And one morning
he showed up with the head of an old woman.” A terrified squeak
escaped from Miss Reiss’ lips. In panic, she
scrambled back, pathetic and defenseless. In stantly, Hamilton was
sorry. Ashamed of himself, he opened his
mouth to apologize, to retract his misplaced humor… .
    From the air above his head a shower of locusts des cended. Buried in a squirming mass of
vermin, Hamilton struggled
frantically to escape. The two women and the tomcat
stood paralyzed with disbelief. For a time he rolled and fought with the horde
of crawling, biting, stinging pests. Then,
dragging himself away, he managed to bat them off and retreat, panting
and gasping, to a corner.
    “Merciful God,” Marsha whispered, stricken, backing away from the buzzing, flopping heap.
    “What … happened?” Miss Reiss managed, eyes fixed on the mound of quivering
insects. “It’s impossible!”
    “Well,” Hamilton said shakily, “it happened.”
    “But how?” Marsha echoed, as the four of them re treated
from the kitchen, away from the spilling flood of wings and chitinous
bodies. “Things like this just can’t be.”
    “But it fits,” Hamilton said, in a weak, soft voice.
“The bee—remember? We were right;
something has hap pened. And it fits. It
makes sense.”

    IV

    marsha hamilton lay
sleeping in bed. Warm yellow morning sunlight splashed across her bare
shoulders, across the blankets and asphalt tile floor. In the bathroom, Jack
Hamilton stood relentlessly shaving, in spite of the throbbing pain in his
injured arm. The mirror, fogged and dripping, reflected his lathered features,
a distorted parody of his usual face.
    By now, the house was calm and
collected. Most of the locusts from the
previous evening had dispersed; only an occasional dry scratching
reminded him that some remained in the
walls. Everything seemed normal. A milk truck rattled past the house. Marsha sighed drowsily and stirred in her sleep, raising one arm up over the
covers. Outside, on the back porch, Ninny Numbcat was pre paring to come indoors.
    Very carefully, keeping a tight
discipline on himself, Hamilton finished shaving, cleaned his razor, slapped
talcum on his jowls and neck, and groped around for a clean white shirt. Lying sleepless the night before, he had decided on this moment to begin: the instant after
shav ing, when he was clean, combed, dressed, and fully awake.
    Getting
awkwardly down on one knee, he placed his hands together, closed his eyes, took
a deep breath, and began.
    “Dear Lord,” he said
grimly, in a half-whisper, “I’m sorry I did what I did to poor Miss Reiss.
I’d appreciate being forgiven, if it’s all
right with You.”
    He remained kneeling for a minute,
wondering if it had been enough. And if it
had been correctly delivered. But gradually, a needling outrage
displaced his humble contrition. It was unnatural, a grown man down on one
knee. It was an undignified, unworthy posture for an adult … and one he wasn’t accustomed to. Resentfully, he added a
closing paragraph to his prayer.
    “Let’s face it—she deserved
it” His harsh whisper drifted through the silent house; Marsha sighed
again and tumbled over in a fetal