Jack and Mr. Grin Read Online Free PDF

could suck in the last remaining smells of autumn before the wind became cold and they would finally have to shut the glass against the chill in a vain attempt to conserve electricity.
    He smelled the rain even before he saw the black clouds plastered across the sky.
    These clouds went beyond storm clouds. The last time he could recall seeing clouds like that was when he was sixteen, newly licensed, driving along the back roads of Glowers Hook, his hometown. He had looked into the rearview mirror and seen only blackness until lightning came and slit its fat belly. That was the first time he had opened up his car. He never understood reckless speeding before, never understood why that held so much appeal for kids his age. It seemed stupid, unthinking and uncaring. Needlessly placing yourself and others in danger for a momentary blast of adrenaline. But he had sped then. He was only a couple miles from his house, had never even driven in a rainstorm, and knew he did not want to be caught out in that.
    Looking back at that storm, he remembered the strange things accompanying it. Reality mixed with town folklore, undoubtedly, but some things couldn’t be denied.
    People said all the animals left the Hook that day, running off to somewhere safe. Others said they saw no fewer than three tornadoes. Still others reported a strange purple glow over a section of the reserve and outlying areas. All of that could have been mere hearsay but the one thing that couldn’t be denied was the ruination of the Turner property. One minute the house was standing and the next minute it had collapsed. Stranger still, no one noticed it for a few days, like something just caused the eye to glance right over it. And when they did finally notice it, they also noticed the mother and father were missing, along with a couple of other people from the town. The boy, Jack couldn’t quite think of his name, was suspected, but nothing was ever proven because, try as they might, no one could find any motive whatsoever. It was written off to the storm.
    An act of God.
    God and his fucking acts, Jack thought. Yeah, he had had just about enough of God and his stupid fucking acts and tests— if that was what they were.
    Standing there at the screen door, an overwhelming sense of awe swept down his spine. He couldn’t let the storm hold him back, couldn’t let it stop him.
    When the first boom of thunder hit, he nearly jumped out of his shoes. His heart, which had been racing ever since he took the ring out of its secret hiding spot, now threatened to punch out of his chest. The thunder brought with it a sudden and harsh downpour of hail.
    And it had been sunny only moments before.
    He knew these were the worst storms. The ones that just blew up from nothing.
    He would definitely have to let the storm pass before heading to his car. He had no intention whatsoever of getting out into that. It wouldn’t be good for anyone if he was collapsed in the middle of the yard, bludgeoned by hail. He glanced over toward Moran’s place and noticed the old man was still out there. Only now, the storm seemed to have taken his attention away from the tree. He held his arms out to the hail, his face raised to the heavens.
    Jesus, Jack thought, that has to be pulverizing him.
    He opened the screen door, forcing it against the wind.
    “Mr. Moran!” he called.
    But the old man was oblivious. He just stood there, holding his arms out as if to catch the hail, looking like a strange Jesus. He started moving around in a rapturous circle. Jack couldn’t just stand there and watch him get blown to pieces by this storm. What if there was a tornado? What if lightning severed one of those branches from his beloved tree and it came down on his head?
    Bracing himself, he grabbed a throw pillow from the couch, held it over his head, and stepped out into the storm. It was nearly as dark as night outside and it wasn’t even
noon
yet.
    “Mr. Moran!” he called again.
    Walking quickly, he