The Dead Zone

Read The Dead Zone for Free Online

Book: Read The Dead Zone for Free Online
Authors: Stephen King
and . . .” He shrugged and then patted her hand sympathetically. “But you’ll probably be okay, Sarah.”
    â€œOhhh . . . I want to get offfff . . .”
    And the whip whirled them away, slamming the fair and the midway into a tilted blur of lights and faces, and she shrieked and laughed and began to pummel him.
    â€œHairline fracture!” She shouted at him. “I’ll give you a hairline fracture when we get off this, you liar!”
    â€œDo you feel anything giving in your neck yet?” he inquired sweetly.
    â€œOh, you liar!”
    They whirled around, faster and faster, and as they snapped past the ride starter for the—tenth? fifteenth?—time, he leaned over and kissed her, and the car whistled around on its track, pressing their lips together in something that was hot and exciting and skintight. Then the ride was slowing down, their car clacked around on its track more reluctantly, and finally came to a swaying, swinging stop.
    They got out, and Sarah squeezed his neck. “Hairline fracture, you ass!” she whispered.
    A fat lady in blue slacks and penny loafers was passing them. Johnny spoke to her, jerking a thumb back toward Sarah. “That girl is bothering me, ma’am. If you see a policeman would you tell him?”
    â€œYou young people think you’re smart,” the fat lady said disdainfully. She waddled away toward the bingo tent, holding her purse more tightly under her arm. Sarah was giggling helplessly.
    â€œYou’re impossible.”
    â€œI’ll come to a bad end,” Johnny agreed. “My mother always said so.”
    They walked up the midway side by side again, waiting for the world to stop making unstable motions before their eyes and under their feet.
    â€œShe’s pretty religious, your mom, isn’t she?” Sarah asked.
    â€œShe’s as Baptist as you can get,” Johnny agreed. “But she’s okay. She keeps it under control. She can’t resist passingme a few tracts when I’m at home, but that’s her thing. Daddy and I put up with it. I used to try to get on her case about it—I’d ask her who the heck was in Nod for Cain to go live with if his dad and mom were the first people on earth, stuff like that—but I decided it was sort of mean and quit it. Two years ago I thought Eugene McCarthy could save the world, and at least the Baptists don’t have Jesus running for president.”
    â€œYour father’s not religious?”
    Johnny laughed. “I don’t know about that, but he’s sure no Baptist.” After a moment’s thought he added, “Dad’s a carpenter,” as if that explained it. She smiled.
    â€œWhat would our mother think if she knew you were seeing a lapsed Catholic?”
    â€œAsk me to bring you home,” Johnny said promptly, “so she could slip you a few tracts.”
    She stopped, still holding his hand. “Would you like to bring me to your house?” she asked, looking at him closely.
    Johnny’s long, pleasant face became serious. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like you to meet them . . . and vice-versa.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œDon’t you know why?” he asked her gently, and suddenly her throat closed and her head throbbed as if she might cry and she squeezed his hand tightly.
    â€œOh Johnny, I do like you.”
    â€œI like you even more than that,” he said seriously.
    â€œTake me on the Ferris wheel,” she demanded suddenly, smiling. No more talk like this until she had a chance to consider it, to think where it might be leading. “I want to go up high where we can see everything.”
    â€œCan I kiss you at the top?”
    â€œTwice, if you’re quick.”
    He allowed her to lead him to the ticket booth, where he surrendered another dollar bill. As he paid he told her, “When I was in high school, I knew this kid who

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