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No
answer
.
Only
the
bottles
,
standing
stiffly
at
attention
.
(
Roll
over
.
Play
dead
.
Fetch
.
Play
dead
.
Sit
up
.
Play
dead
.
)
"
Never
mind
,
I
’
ll
do
it
myself
,
goddammit
"
Halfway
over
the
bar
he
lost
his
balance
and
pitched
forward
,
hitting
his
head
a
muffled
blow
on
the
floor
.
He
got
up
on
his
hands
and
knees
,
his
eyeballs
moving
disjointed
from
side
to
side
,
fuzzy
muttering
sounds
coming
from
his
mouth
.
Then
he
collapsed
,
his
face
turned
to
one
side
,
breathing
in
harsh
snores
.
Outside
,
the
wind
whooped
louder
,
driving
the
thickening
snow
before
it
.
It
was
8
:
30
A
.
M
.
At
8
:
31
A
.
M
.
,
MST
,
a
woman
on
TWA
’
s
Flight
196
burst
into
tears
and
began
to
bugle
her
own
opinion
,
which
was
perhaps
not
unshared
among
some
of
the
other
passengers
(
or
even
the
crew
,
for
that
matter
)
,
that
the
plane
was
going
to
crash
.
The
sharp
-
faced
woman
next
to
Hallorann
looked
up
from
her
book
and
offered
a
brief
character
analysis
:
"
Ninny
,
"
and
went
back
to
her
book
.
She
had
downed
two
screwdrivers
during
the
flight
,
but
they
seemed
not
to
have
thawed
her
at
all
.
"
It
’
s
going
to
crash
!
"
the
woman
was
crying
out
shrilly
.
"
Oh
,
I
just
know
it
is
!
"
A
stewardess
hurried
to
her
seat
and
squatted
beside
her
.
Hallorann
thought
to
himself
that
only
stewardesses
and
very
young
housewives
seemed
able
to
squat
with
any
degree
of
grace
;
it
was
a
rare
and
wonderful
talent
.
He
thought
about
this
while
the
stewardess
talked
softly
and
soothingly
to
the
woman
,
quieting
her
bit
by
bit
.
