The Glacier Read Online Free Page B
Author: Jeff Wood
about, thatâs all.
Sue rolls up his window and goes back to his numbers.
Gunner darkensâ¦
GUNNER
(ominously)
Suit yourself.
He lingers for a moment at the truck and then goes back to looking down the scope of the gun.
***
A long pink corridor of concrete block and fluorescent tube lighting, frighteningly institutional and empty.
Around a corner at the far end of the hallway, the sound of a metal cart approaching, clanking and rattling through the industrial complexâ¦
Simone rounds the corner, pushing a cart full of salt and pepper shakers vibrating on metal trays. She rolls down the long hall, attentive and focused, pink walls flowing by on either side. Then an invading awareness sweeps across her face like a passing cloud, furrowing. She slows down and stops.
She looks at a couple of doors, unsure. She gazes down the long receding hallway, and back up the route she has just traveled.
She listens to the building, deathly quiet but for intermittent clanking off in the distance, as if there isnât another soul for miles.
She listens to herself, the invisible map inside her, of whatever country that is. She flexes her hands around the handlebar of the cart and looks down at the salt and pepper shakers gathered on the tray like a clutch of extraterrestrial spores.
Then she turns her cart around and pushes it back down the hallway, taking another turn and disappearing down another corridor.
***
A clumsy, familiar melody in the air of the neighborhood. The invisible song floats down a quiet new street.
The ice cream man!
Samson rounds a corner and slowly navigates the glacial streets. Deserted sidewalks, lifeless windows, winter lawns, the strange empty spaces between housesâ Somnambuland. The ache of a phantom limb. Out here the ice cream man is king. The truck brings a luminescent glow to the neighborhood, a white-hot cauter beneath the overcast.
Sam rounds another corner in the labyrinth, trolling for action. Suddenly a front door explodes open. Bingo!
A small boy wearing a silver snowsuit and a space helmet rockets out of the house. He sprints across his front lawn and launches out into the street. All engines, maximum warp speed. He chases Samâs truck down the center of the street.
Sam sees the boy in his side mirror and grins rakishly, watching the boy run⦠Then he pulls over.
The space boy looks up at Samson through his space helmet.
Samson beams down at him, radiant.
SAMSON
Hello there!
SPACE BOY
Iâm in outer space.
SAMSON
You most certainly are! How may I assist your mission today?
SPACE BOY
Itâs cold.
SAMSON
Yes it is. But it can get very hot in outer space under certain circumstances like suns, supernovas, red dwarves, and Big Bangs. Then thereâs heat shield failure during reentry and other misfortunes. Youâre familiar with all this, of course.
Space boy is focused.
SAMSON
How about some hot chocolate?
SPACE BOY
Hot chocolate!
SAMSON
All right then. One hot chocolate coming right up⦠Here you are, sir.
Samson hands the boy a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Space boy holds out some change in his little hands.
SAMSON
Oh, Iâm sorry, but your currency is no good on this planet. Save it. No charge.
SPACE BOY
Thank you.
SAMSON
You bet.
A sickly woman emerges from a house and stands in the front doorway in her bathrobe. Sam nods to her and she disappears back inside, leaving the door ajar.
Sam climbs out of the back of his truck and walks up the front walk with a doctorâs house-call bag. He enters the house and shuts the door behind him. The sullen beige house glooms in the flat midday light.
The woman is lying on the living room couch in her bathrobe and an afghan. Sheâs looking into the daylight filtered through thin, gauzy curtains.
Sam enters and approaches the couch. He moves a box of Kleenex out of the way and sits down before her on the ottoman, obstructing her from view.
From behind the couch we see
Sue rolls up his window and goes back to his numbers.
Gunner darkensâ¦
GUNNER
(ominously)
Suit yourself.
He lingers for a moment at the truck and then goes back to looking down the scope of the gun.
***
A long pink corridor of concrete block and fluorescent tube lighting, frighteningly institutional and empty.
Around a corner at the far end of the hallway, the sound of a metal cart approaching, clanking and rattling through the industrial complexâ¦
Simone rounds the corner, pushing a cart full of salt and pepper shakers vibrating on metal trays. She rolls down the long hall, attentive and focused, pink walls flowing by on either side. Then an invading awareness sweeps across her face like a passing cloud, furrowing. She slows down and stops.
She looks at a couple of doors, unsure. She gazes down the long receding hallway, and back up the route she has just traveled.
She listens to the building, deathly quiet but for intermittent clanking off in the distance, as if there isnât another soul for miles.
She listens to herself, the invisible map inside her, of whatever country that is. She flexes her hands around the handlebar of the cart and looks down at the salt and pepper shakers gathered on the tray like a clutch of extraterrestrial spores.
Then she turns her cart around and pushes it back down the hallway, taking another turn and disappearing down another corridor.
***
A clumsy, familiar melody in the air of the neighborhood. The invisible song floats down a quiet new street.
The ice cream man!
Samson rounds a corner and slowly navigates the glacial streets. Deserted sidewalks, lifeless windows, winter lawns, the strange empty spaces between housesâ Somnambuland. The ache of a phantom limb. Out here the ice cream man is king. The truck brings a luminescent glow to the neighborhood, a white-hot cauter beneath the overcast.
Sam rounds another corner in the labyrinth, trolling for action. Suddenly a front door explodes open. Bingo!
A small boy wearing a silver snowsuit and a space helmet rockets out of the house. He sprints across his front lawn and launches out into the street. All engines, maximum warp speed. He chases Samâs truck down the center of the street.
Sam sees the boy in his side mirror and grins rakishly, watching the boy run⦠Then he pulls over.
The space boy looks up at Samson through his space helmet.
Samson beams down at him, radiant.
SAMSON
Hello there!
SPACE BOY
Iâm in outer space.
SAMSON
You most certainly are! How may I assist your mission today?
SPACE BOY
Itâs cold.
SAMSON
Yes it is. But it can get very hot in outer space under certain circumstances like suns, supernovas, red dwarves, and Big Bangs. Then thereâs heat shield failure during reentry and other misfortunes. Youâre familiar with all this, of course.
Space boy is focused.
SAMSON
How about some hot chocolate?
SPACE BOY
Hot chocolate!
SAMSON
All right then. One hot chocolate coming right up⦠Here you are, sir.
Samson hands the boy a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Space boy holds out some change in his little hands.
SAMSON
Oh, Iâm sorry, but your currency is no good on this planet. Save it. No charge.
SPACE BOY
Thank you.
SAMSON
You bet.
A sickly woman emerges from a house and stands in the front doorway in her bathrobe. Sam nods to her and she disappears back inside, leaving the door ajar.
Sam climbs out of the back of his truck and walks up the front walk with a doctorâs house-call bag. He enters the house and shuts the door behind him. The sullen beige house glooms in the flat midday light.
The woman is lying on the living room couch in her bathrobe and an afghan. Sheâs looking into the daylight filtered through thin, gauzy curtains.
Sam enters and approaches the couch. He moves a box of Kleenex out of the way and sits down before her on the ottoman, obstructing her from view.
From behind the couch we see
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