Stranger Things Happen Read Online Free PDF Page A

from the porch rail.
    "What?"
    "That your father has a wooden nose."
    "He has several noses, but you heard him. It might rain. Some of
them," she said, "are liable to rust."
    "Why does he have a wooden nose?" Carroll said. He was
whispering.
    "A boy named Biederbecke bit it off, in a fight." The
alliteration evidently pleased her, because she said a little
louder, "Biederbecke bit it off, when you were a boy. Isn't that
right, Daddy?"
    The porch door swung open again, and Mr. Rook said, "Yes, but I
don't blame him, really I don't. We were little boys and I called
him a stinking Kraut. That was during the war, and afterwards he
was very sorry. You have to look on the bright side of things—your
mother would never have noticed me if it hadn't had been for my
nose. That was a fine nose. I modeled it on Abraham Lincoln's nose,
and carved it out of black walnut." He set a dented black tackle
box down next to Carroll, squatting beside it. "Look here."
    The inside of the tackle box was lined with red velvet and the
mild light of the October moon illuminated the noses, glowing as if
a jeweler's lamp had been turned upon them: noses made of wood, and
beaten copper, tin and brass. One seemed to be silver, veined with
beads of turquoise. There were aquiline noses; noses pointed like
gothic spires; noses with nostrils curled up like tiny bird
claws.
    "Who made these?" Carroll said.
    Mr. Rook coughed modestly. "It's my hobby," he said. "Pick one
up if you like."
    "Go ahead," Rachel said to Carroll.
    Carroll chose a nose that had been painted over with blue and
pink flowers. It was glassy-smooth and light in his hand, like a
blown eggshell. "It's beautiful," he said. "What's it made out
of?"
    "Papier-mache. There's one for every day of the week." Mr. Rook
said.
    "What did the … original look like?" Carroll asked.
    "Hard to remember, really. It wasn't much of a nose," Mr. Rook
said. "Before."
    #
    "Back to the question, please. Which do you choose, water or
love?"
    "What happens if I choose wrong?"
    "You'll find out, won't you."
    "Which would you choose?"
    "That's my question, Carroll. You already asked
yours."
     
    "You still haven't answered me, either. All right, all
right, let me think for a bit."
    #
    Rachel had straight reddish-brown hair that fell precisely to
her shoulders and then stopped. Her eyes were fox-colored, and she
had more small, even teeth than seemed absolutely necessary to
Carroll. She smiled at him, and when she bent over the tacklebox
full of noses, Carroll could see the two wings of her
shoulderblades beneath the thin cotton T-shirt, her vertebrae
outlined like a knobby strand of coral. As they went in to dinner
she whispered in his ear, "My mother has a wooden leg."
    She led him into the kitchen to meet her mother. The air in the
kitchen was hot and moist and little beads of sweat stood out on
Mrs. Rook's face. Rachel's mother resembled Rachel in the way that
Mr. Rook's wooden nose resembled a real nose, as if someone had
hacked Mrs. Rook out of wood or granite. She had large hands with
long, yellowed fingernails, and all over her black dress were short
black dog hairs. "So you're a librarian," she said to Carroll.
    "Part-time," Carroll said. "Yes, ma'am."
    "What do you do the rest of the time?" she said.
    "I take classes."
    Mrs. Rook stared at him without blinking. "Are your parents
still alive?"
    "My mother is," Carroll said. "She lives in Florida. She plays
bridge."
    Rachel grabbed Carroll's arm. "Come on," she said. "The food's
getting cold."
    She pulled him into a dining room with dark wood paneling and a
long table set for four people. The long black hem of Mrs. Rook's
dress hissed along the floor as she pulled her chair into the
table. Carroll sat down next to her. Was it the right or the left?
He tucked his feet under his chair. Both women were silent and
Carroll was silent between them. Mr. Rook talked instead, filling
in the awkward empty pause so that Carroll was glad that it was his
nose and not his