Lightning stuttered on and off like giant neon, giving the window the look of a blank, dead eye.
Yet a deep instinct suggested that Needful Things, while closed and quiet, might not be empty. Mr. Gaunt could have left town in all the confusion, yes-with the storm raging and the cops running around like chickens with their heads cut off, doing that would have been no problem at all. But the picture of Mr. Gaunt which had formed in his mind on the long, wild ride from the hospital in Bridgton was that of
Batman's nemesis, the Joker. Alan had an idea that he was dealing with the sort of man who would think installing a jet-powered backflow valve in a friend's toilet the very height of humor. And would a fellow like that-the sort of fellow who would put a tack in your chair or stick a burning match in the sole of your shoe just for laughs-leave before you sat down or noticed that your socks were on fire and your pantscuffs were catching? Of course not. What fun would that be?
I think you're still around, Alan thought. I think you want to watch all the fun. Don't you, you son of a bitch?
He sat quite still, looking at the shop with the green awning, trying to fathom the mind of a man who would set such a complex and mean-spirited set of events in motion. He was concentrating far too deeply to notice that the car parked on his left was quite old, although smoothly, almost aerodynamically, designed. It was Mr.
Gaunt's Tucker Talisman, in fact.
How did you do it? There's a lot I want to know, but just that one thing will suffice for tonight. How could you do it? How could you learn so much about us so fast?
Brian said Mr. Gaunt wasn't really a man at all.
In daylight Alan would have scoffed at this idea, as he had scoffed at the idea that Polly's charm might have some supernatural healing power. But tonight, cupped in the crazy palm of the gale, staring at the display window which had become a blank dead eye, the idea had its own undeniable, gloomy power. He remembered the day he had come to Needful Things with the specific intention of meeting and talking to Mr. Gaunt, and he remembered the odd sensation that had crept over him as he peered in through the window with his hands cupped at the sides of his face to reduce the glare. He had felt he was being watched, although the shop was clearly empty.
And not only that; he'd felt the watcher was malign, hateful. The feeling had been so strong that for a moment he had actually mistaken his own reflection for the unpleasant (and half-transparent) face of someone else.
How strong that feeling had been... how very strong.
Alan found himself remembering something else-something his grandmother used to tell him when he was small: The devil's voice is sweet to hear.
Brian said How had Mr. Gaunt come by his knowledge? And why in God's name would he bother with a wide place in the road like Castle Rock?-Mr. Gaunt wasn't really a man at all.
Alan suddenly leaned over and groped on the floor of the station wagon's passenger side. For a moment he thought that what he was feeling around for was gone-that it had fallen out of the car at some point during the day when the passenger door was openand then his fingers happened on the metal curve. It had rolled underneath the seat, that was all. He fumbled it out, held it up... and the voice of depression, absent since he had left Sean Rusk's hospital room (or maybe it was just that things had been too busy since then for Alan to hear it), spoke up in its loud and unsettlingly merry voice.
Hi, Alan! Hello! I've been away, sorry about that, but I'm back now, okay? What you got there? Can of nuts? Nop@that's what i't looks like, but that's not what i't is, I's it? It's the last Joke Todd ever boughtat the auburn Novelty Shop, correct? A fake can of Tastee-Munch Mixed Nuts with a green snake insid@repe-paper wrapped around a spring. And when he brought it to you with his eyes glowing and a hig, goofy smile on his face, you told him to put that silly thing back, didn't you? And when his face fell, you pretended not to notice-you told him... let me see. What DID you tell him?
"That the fool and his money soon parted," Alan said dully. He turned the can around and around in his hands, looking at it, remembering Todd's face. "That's what I told him."
Ohhhh, riiiiight, the voice agreed. How could I have forgotten a thing like that? You want to talk about mean-spirited? jeer, Louise!
Good thing you reminded me! Good thing you reminded us BOTH, right? Only Annie saved the day-she said to let him have it. She said... let me see. What DID she say?
"She said it was sort of funny, that Todd was just like me, and that he'd only be young once." Alan's voice was hoarse and trembling.
He had begun to cry again, and why not? just why the f**king hell not?