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Elmira
Brown
sitting
there
at
the
bottom
of
the
steps
,
nothing
broke
,
her
it
bones
made
out
of
Jell
-
O
,
I
suspect
,
and
the
witch
sobbin
’
on
her
shoulder
,
and
then
all
of
them
goin
’
upstairs
suddenly
·
laughing
.
Cry
-
yi
,
you
figure
it
out
.
I
got
out
of
there
fast
!
"
Tom
loosened
his
shirt
and
took
off
his
tie
.
"
Magic
,
you
say
?
"
asked
Douglas
.
"
Magic
six
ways
from
Sunday
.
"
"
You
believe
it
?
"
"
Yes
I
do
and
no
I
don
’
t
.
"
"
Boy
,
this
town
is
full
of
stuff
!
"
Douglas
peered
off
at
the
horizon
where
clouds
filled
the
sky
with
immense
shapes
of
old
gods
and
warriors
.
"
Spells
and
wax
dolls
and
needles
and
elixirs
,
you
said
?
"
"
Wasn
’
t
much
as
an
elixir
,
but
awful
fine
as
an
upchuck
.
Blap
!
Wowie
!
"
Tom
clutched
his
stomach
and
stuck
out
his
tongue
.
"
Witches
.
.
.
"
said
Douglas
.
He
squinted
his
eyes
mysteriously
.
And
then
there
is
that
day
when
all
around
,
all
around
you
hear
the
dropping
of
the
apples
,
one
by
one
,
from
the
trees
.
At
first
it
is
one
here
and
one
there
,
and
then
it
is
three
and
then
it
is
four
and
then
nine
and
twenty
,
until
the
apples
plummet
like
rain
,
fall
like
horse
hoofs
in
the
soft
,
darkening
grass
,
and
you
are
the
last
apple
on
the
tree
;
and
you
wait
for
the
wind
to
work
you
slowly
free
from
your
hold
upon
the
sky
,
and
drop
you
down
and
down
.
Long
before
you
hit
the
grass
you
will
have
forgotten
there
ever
was
a
tree
,
or
other
apples
,
or
a
summer
,
or
green
grass
below
.
You
will
fall
in
darkness
.
.
.
