BooksBarbecue
Back Black Ambrosia Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. CoverImage
  2. Introduction by Grady Hendrix
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. About the Author
  46. About the Cover

I felt more and more depressed as I looked at that little cone of light, with the silence of the night and the closeness of the snow surrounding me. I finally ar­rived at the crossroads, stood on the curb under the light, and that was the end of my endurance. I dropped my pack to my feet and locked my frozen knees, standing up as straight as I could, my shivers bordering on convulsions. I could not go on.

It would have been better if Ned had never picked me up at all. Becoming semi-­warm and then freezing again was much worse. My down coat was no match for this biting wind; the portion of leg between my coat and my boots had no feeling, nor did my toes. My fingers were stiff.

I put each hand up the opposite sleeve, and stood straight, shoulders hunched up about my ears. If I remembered the fireside talk in Seven Slopes correct­ly, I would soon become sleepy as my blood thickened and ran sluggishly through my brain, and I would just lie down to rest, to take a little nap.

Such a pleasant notion. I closed my eyes. Taking a little sleep sounded like a wonderful idea. I could almost imagine a nice, friendly little dream, and maybe, maybe when I woke up, I would be at home, in bed, cuddled down soft and warm, this whole thing having been a terrible nightmare.

Or maybe not. Maybe dying right here, right now, would be best. There would be no more running. No more loneliness. No more being the stranger, the different one. I wouldn’t have to get well, or get better, or strive to try to stay awake during the daylight hours. I wouldn’t have to worry about my past, or my future. Or Her. I felt myself teeter. I thought I’d better lie down before I fell down, but my mind was too busy to hold that thought long enough to act. Why did everybody think of slitting wrists or hanging? This was so superior. Just go outside on Christmas Eve and take a little nap.

Even the cold lost its threat. The concept of cold ceased to exist. The cold became my friend, my companion. Come in, come in. You and I will rest together for a long time. How comforting. How luxu­rious.

Then there was a terrible noise, and I opened my eyes and a car was in front of me, honking. A man looked out the window, and I wanted to wave him on, no thank you, I’m fine now, but my arms were too tired, so I just closed my eyes again.