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And
,
wait
.
.
.
the
more
Tom
talked
,
the
closer
the
great
Thing
came
,
it
wasn
’
t
scared
of
Tom
,
Tom
drew
it
with
his
breath
,
Tom
was
part
of
it
!
"
Last
February
,
"
said
Tom
,
and
chuckled
.
"
Held
a
matchbox
up
in
a
snowstorm
,
let
one
old
snowflake
fall
in
,
shut
it
up
,
ran
inside
the
house
,
stashed
it
in
the
icebox
!
"
Close
,
very
close
.
Douglas
stared
at
Tom
’
s
flickering
lips
.
He
wanted
to
jump
around
,
for
he
felt
a
vast
tidal
wave
lift
up
behind
the
forest
.
In
an
instant
it
would
smash
down
,
crush
them
forever
.
.
.
"
Yes
,
sir
,
"
mused
Tom
,
picking
grapes
,
"
I
’
m
the
only
guy
in
all
Illinois
who
’
s
got
a
snowflake
in
summer
.
Precious
as
diamonds
,
by
gosh
.
Tomorrow
I
’
ll
open
it
.
Doug
,
you
can
look
,
too
.
.
.
Any
other
day
Douglas
might
have
snorted
,
struck
out
,
denied
it
all
.
But
now
,
with
the
great
Thing
rushing
near
,
falling
down
in
the
clear
air
above
him
,
he
could
only
nod
,
eyes
shut
.
Tom
,
puzzled
,
stopped
picking
berries
and
turned
to
stare
over
at
his
brother
.
Douglas
,
hunched
over
,
was
an
ideal
target
.
Tom
leaped
,
yelling
,
landed
.
They
fell
,
thrashed
,
and
rolled
.
No
!
Douglas
squeezed
his
mind
shut
.
No
!
But
suddenly
.
.
.
Yes
,
it
’
s
all
right
!
Yes
!
The
tangle
,
the
contact
of
bodies
,
the
falling
tumble
had
not
scared
off
the
tidal
sea
that
crashed
now
,
flooding
and
washing
them
along
the
shore
of
grass
deep
through
the
forest
.
Knuckles
struck
his
mouth
.
He
tasted
rusty
warm
blood
,
grabbed
Tom
hard
,
held
him
tight
,
and
so
in
silence
they
lay
,
hearts
churning
,
nostrils
hissing
.
And
at
last
,
slowly
,
afraid
he
would
find
nothing
,
Douglas
opened
one
eye
.
And
everything
,
absolutely
everything
,
was
there
.
