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Pulp Fiction, 1948 · page 75 of 132

Avon Fantasy Reader No. 8 — page 75: what you’re looking at

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Avon Fantasy Reader No. 8 — page 75: Pulp Fiction, 1948

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ee Ee ea 7 oe es eS Jes) ig, or ak ae mee Wh ea “ZERO HOUR , | | 71 “No, oes You ask her. It was epietuye she’s just a scaredy- < Dants, The ring of children drew in achiehd Mink where she scowled at her work with spoons and a kind of square shaped arrangement of hammers and pe “There and there,” murmured Mink. “What's wrong?” said Mrs. Morris. “Drill’s stuck. Half way. If we could only get him all the way through, itll be easier. Then all the weber’ could come iiiouch after him.” “Can I help?” “No’m, thanks. PIl fix it.’ “All Gone PI call you for your bath in paléap head ai decdol watching you.” She went in and sat in the electric-relaxing chair, sipping a little beer from a half-empty glass. The chair massaged her back. Children, childten. Children Bad love and hate, side by side. Sometimes children loved you, hated you, all in half a second. Strange children, did they ever forget or forgive the whip- pings and the harsh, strict words of command? She wondered. How can you ever forget or forgive those over and above you, those tall and silly dictators? Time passed. A curious, waiting silence came upon the street, deepening. Five o’clock. A clock sang softly somewhere in the house, in a quiet, musical voice, “Five o'clock . . . five o’clock. Time’s a-wasting. Five o’clock,” and : pelted away into silence: Zero hour. Mrs. Morris chuckled in her throat. Zero hour. A beetle-car hummed into the driveway. Mr. Morris. Mrs. Morris smiled. Mr. Morris got out of the beetle, locked it'and called hello to Mink at her work. Mink ignored him. He laughed and stood for a moment watching the children in their business. Then he walked up the front steps. “Hello, darling.” “Hello, Henry.” She eared forward on the edge of the chair, listening. The children were silent. Too silent. He emptied his pipe, refilled it. “Swell a Makes you glad to be allve.” Buzz. “What’s that?” asked Henry. “T don’t know.” She got up, suddenly, her eyes widening. She was going to” say something. She stopped it. Ridiculous. Her nerves jumped. “Those chil- dren hayen’t anything dangerous out there, have they?” she said. “Nothing but pipes and hammers. Why?” “Nothing electrical?” “Heck, no,” said Henry. “I looked.” She walkedets the kitchen. The buzzing continued. “Just the same you’d better go tell them to quit. It’s after five. Tell them—” Her eyes widened : e a com book Se com en am