Free Bradbury, Ray - SSC 07 by Twice Twenty-two (v2.1) Page B

invisible?"
                   All sorts of things shot through his brain,
she could tell. Adventures stood up and danced like hell-fire in his eyes, and
his mouth, just hanging, told what it meant to be a boy who imagined himself
like the mountain winds. In a cold dream he said, "I'll run across wheat
fields, climb snow mountains, steal white chickens off'n farms. I'll kick pink
pigs when they ain't looking. I'll pinch pretty girls' legs when they sleep,
snap their garters in schoolrooms." Charlie looked at Old Lady, and from
the shiny tips of her eyes she saw something wicked shape his face. "And
other things I'll do, I'll do, I will," he said.
                   "Don't try nothing on me," warned
Old Lady. "I'm brittle as spring ice and I don't take handling."
Then: "What about your folks?"
                   "My folks?"
                   “You can't fetch yourself home looking like
that. Scare the inside ribbons out of them. Your mother’d faint straight back
like timber falling. Think they want you about the house to stumble over and
your ma have to call you every three minutes, even though you're in the room
next her elbow?"
                   Charlie had not considered it. He sort of
simmered down and whispered out a little "Gosh" and felt of his long
bones carefully.
                   "You'll be mighty lonesome. People
looking through you like a water glass, people knocking you aside because they
didn't reckon you to be underfoot. And women, Charlie, women — "
                   He swallowed. "What about women?"
                   “No woman will be giving you a second stare.
And no woman wants to be kissed by a boy's mouth they can't even find!
                   Charlie dug his bare toe in the soil
contemplatively. He pouted. "Well, I'll stay invisible, anyway, for a
spell. I'll have me some fun. I'll just be pretty careful, is all. I'll stay
out from in front of wagons and horses and Pa. Pa shoots at the nariest
sound." Charlie blinked. "Why, with me invisible, someday Pa might
just up and fill me with buckshot, thinkin' I was a hill squirrel in the
dooryard. Oh . . ."
                   Old Lady nodded at a tree. "That's
likely."
                   "Well," he decided slowly,
"I'll stay invisible for tonight, and tomorrow you can &i me back all
whole again. Old Lady."
                   "Now if that ain't just like a critter,
always wanting to be what he can't be," remarked Old Lady to a beetle on a
log.
                   "What you mean?" said Charlie.
                   "Why," she explained, "it was
real hard work, fixing you up. It'll take a little time for it to wear off.
Like a coat of paint wears off, boy."
                   "You!" he cried. "You did this
to me! Now you make me back, you make me seeable!"
                   "Hush," she said. "It'll wear
off, a hand or a foot at a time."
                   “How'll it look, me around the hills with just
one hand showing!"
                   "Like a five-winged bird hopping on the
stones and bramble."
                   "Or a foot showing!"
                   "Like a small pink rabbit jumping
thicket."
                   "Or my head floating!"
                   "Like a hairy balloon at the
carnival!"
                   "How long before I'm whole?" he
asked.
                   She deliberated that it might pretty well be
an entire year.
                   He groaned. He began to sob and bite his lips
and make fists. "You magicked me, you did this, you did this thing to me.
Now I won't be able to run home!"
                   She winked. "But you can stay here,
child, stay on with me real comfort-like, and I'll keep you fat and
saucy."
                   He flung it out: "You did this on
purpose! You mean old hag,