Insomnia | Page 8

Ed's
eyes. There seemed to be a little more Ed in there than there had been
before . . . or perhaps that was only wishful thinking.

"Murderer, baby murderer!"

"Jesus, what a looney tune," Heavyset said, but he went to the rear of
the truckbed, yanked one of the ropes free, and peeled back a corner of
the tarpaulin. Beneath it were four pressboard barrels, each marked
WEED-GO. "Organic fertilizer," Heavyset said, his eyes flicking from Ed
to Ralph and then back to Ed again. He touched the bill of his West

Side Gardeners cap. "I spent the day working on a set of new
flower-beds outside the Derry Psych Wing . . . where you could stand
a short vacation, friend."

"Fertilizer?" Ed asked. It was himself he seemed to be speaking to.

His left hand rose slowly to his temple and began to rub there.

"Fertilizer?" He sounded like a man questioning some simple yet
staggering scientific development.

"Fertilizer," Heavyset agreed. He glanced back at Ralph and said, "This
guy is sick in the head. You know it?"

"He's confused, that's all," Ralph answered uneasily. He leaned over
the side of the truck and rapped a barrel-top. Then he turned back to
Ed. "Barrels of fertilizer," he said. "Okay?"

No response. Ed's right hand rose and began to rub at his other temple.
He looked like a man sinking into a terrible migraine.

"Okay?" Ralph repeated gently.

Ed closed his eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, Ralph
observed a sheen in them he thought was probably tears. Ed's tongue
slipped out and dabbed delicately first at one corner of his mouth and
then the other. He took the end of his silk scarf and wiped his
forehead, and as he did, Ralph saw there were Chinese figures
embroidered on it in red, just above the fringe.

"I guess maybe-" he began, and then broke off. His eyes widened again
in that look Ralph didn't like. "Babies!" he rasped. "You hear me?
Babies."' Ralph shoved him back against his car for the third or fourth
time-he'd lost count. "What are you talking about, Ed?" An idea
suddenly occurred to him. "Is it Natalie? Are you worried about
Natalie?"

A small, crafty smile touched Ed's lips. He looked past Ralph at the
heavyset man. "Fertilizer, huh? Well, if that's all it is, you won't
mind opening one of them, will you?"

Heavyset looked at Ralph uneasily. "Man needs a doctor," he said.

"Maybe he does. But he was calming down, I thought ... Could you open
one of those barrels? It might make him feel better."

"Yeah, sure, what the heck. In for a penny, in for a pound," he said,
There was another flash of lightning, another heavy blast of thunder-one
that seemed to go rolling all the way across the sky this time-and a
cold spackle of rain struck the back of Ralph's sweaty neck.

He glanced to his left and saw Dorrance Marstellar standing at the
entrance to the picnic area, book in hand, watching the three of them
anxiously.

"It's gonna rain a pretty bitch, looks like," Heavyset said, "and I
can't let this stuff get wet. It starts a chemical reaction. So look

fast."

He felt around between one of the barrels and the sidewall of his truck
for a moment, then came up with a crowbar. must be as nutty as he is,
doing this," he said to Ralph. "I mean, I was just going along home,
mindin my business. He hit me."

"Go on," Ralph said. "It'll only take a second."

"Yeah," Heavyset replied sourly, turning and setting the flat end of the
crowbar under the lid of the nearest barrel, "but the memories will last
a lifetime."

Another thunderclap rocked the day just then, and Heavyset did not hear
what Ed Deepneau said next. Ralph did, however, and it chilled the pit
of his stomach.

"Those barrels are full of dead babies," Ed said. "You'll see."

Heavyset popped the I'd on the end barre , and such was the conviction
in Ed's voice that Ralph almost expected to see tangles of arms and legs
and bundles of small hairless heads. Instead, he saw a mixture of fine
blue crystals and brown stuff. The smell which rose from the barrel was
rich and peaty, with a thin chemical undertone.

"See? Satisfied?"