Fahrenheit 451 Ray Bradbury part 1 Audiobook

this one with gratitude is for Don Congdon if they give you ruled paper right the other way one Ramon Jimenez the hearth and the salamander it was a pleasure to burn it was a special pleasure to see things eaten to see things blackened and changed with the brass nozzle in his fists with his great Python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world the blood count in his head and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history with the symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his stolid head in his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next he flicked the igniter and the house jumped up in a gorging fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow and black he strode in a swarm of fireflies he wanted above all like the old joke to shove a marshmallow on a stick in the furnace while the flapping pigeon winged books died on the porch and lawn of the house while the books went up in sparkling whirls and blew away on a wind turned dark with burning Montag grinned the fierce grin of all men singed and driven back by flame he knew that when he returned to the firehouse he might wink at himself a minstrel man burnt cork in the mirror later going to sleep he would feel the fiery smile still gripped by his face muscles in the dark it never went away that smile it never ever went away as long as he remembered he hung up his black beetle colored helmet and shined it he hung his flameproof jacket neatly he showered luxuriously and then whistling hands in pockets walked across the upper floor of the fire station and fell down the hole at the last moment when disaster seemed positive he pulled his hands from his pockets and broke his fall by grasping the golden pole he slid to a squeaking halt the heels one inch from the concrete floor downstairs he walked out of the fire station and along the midnight street toward the subway where the silent air propelled train slid soundlessly down it's lubricated flue in the earth and led him out with a great puff of warm air onto the cream tiled escalator rising to the suburb whistling he let the escalator waft him into the still night air he walked toward the corner thinking at all about nothing in particular before he reached the corner however he slowed as if a wind had sprung up from nowhere as if someone had called his name the last few nights he had had the most uncertain feelings about the sidewalk just around the corner here moving in the starlight toward his house he had felt that a moment prior to his making the turn someone had been there the air seemed charged with a special calm as if someone had waited there quietly and only a moment before he came simply turned to a shadow and let him through perhaps his nose detected a faint perfume perhaps the skin on the backs of his hands on his face felt the temperature rise at this one spot where a person standing might raise the immediate atmosphere 10 degrees for an instant there was no understanding it each time he made the turn he saw only the white unused buckling sidewalk with perhaps on one night something vanishing swiftly across a lawn before he could focus his eyes or speak but now tonight he slowed almost to a stop his inner mind reaching out to turn the corner for him had heard the faintest whisper breathing or was the atmosphere compressed merely by someone standing very quietly there waiting he turned the corner the autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seemed fixed to a sliding walk letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward her head was half bent to watch her shoes stir the circling leaves her face was slender and milk-white and in it was a kind of gentle hunger that touched over everything with tireless curiosity it was a look almost a pale surprise were so fixed to the world that no move escaped them her dress was white and it whispered he almost thought he heard the motion of her hands as she walked and the infinitely small sound now the whites stir of her face turning when she discovered she was a moment away from a man who stood in the middle of the pavement waiting the trees overhead made a great sound of letting down their dry rain the girl stopped and looked as if she might pull back in surprise but instead stood regarding Montague with eyes so dark and shining and alive that he felt he had said something quite wonderful but he knew his mouth had only moved to say hello and then when she seemed hypnotized by the salamander on his arm and the Phoenix disc on his chest he spoke again of course he said you're our new neighbour aren't you and you must be she raised her eyes from his professional symbols the fireman her voice trailed off how oddly you say that I'd I'd have known him with my eyes shut she said slowly what the smell of kerosene my wife always complains he laughed you never wash it off completely no you don't she said in all he thought she was walking in a circle about him turning him end friend shaking him quietly and emptying his pockets without once moving herself kerosene he said because the silence had lengthened is nothing but perfumed to me does it seem like that really of course why not she gave herself time to think of it I don't know she turned to face the sidewalk or going toward their homes do you mind if I walk back with you I'm Clarisse McLellan Clarisse guy Montague come along what are you doing out so late wandering around how old are you they walked in the warm cool blowing night on the silver and pavement and there was the faintest breath of fresh apricots and strawberries in the air and he looked around and realized this was quite impossible so late in the air there was only the girl walking with him now her face bright as snow in the moonlight and he knew she was working his questions around seeking the best answers she could possibly give well she said I'm 17 and I'm crazy my uncle says the tomb almost always go together when people ask your age he said always say 17 and insane isn't this a nice time of night to walk I like to smell things and look at things and sometimes stay up all night walking and watch the Sun rise they walked on again in silence and finally she said thoughtfully you know I'm not afraid of you at all he was surprised why should you be so many people are afraid of firemen I mean but you're just a man after all he saw himself in her eyes suspended into shining drops of bright water himself dark and tiny and fine detail the lines about his mouth everything there as if her eyes were too miraculous bits of violet amber that might capture and hold him intact her face turned to him now was fragile milk crystal with a soft and constant light in it it was not the hysterical light of electricity but what but the strangely comfortable and rare and gently flattering light of the candle one time as a child in a power failure his mother had found and lit a last candle and there had been a brief hour of rediscovery of such illumination that space lost its vast dimensions and drew comfortably around them and they mother and son alone transformed hoping that the power might not come on again too soon and then Clarice McLellan said do you mind if I ask how long have you worked at being a fireman since I was twenty ten years ago do you have a read any of the books you burn he laughed that's against the law oh of course it's fine work they burn Malay Wednesday Whitman Friday nur Birnam dashes then burn the ashes that's our official slogan they walked still farther and the girl said is it true that long ago firemen put fires out instead of going to stop them no houses have always been fireproof take my word for it strange I heard once that a long time ago houses used to burn by accident and they needed firemen to stop the flames he laughed she glanced quickly over why are you laughing I don't know he started to laugh again and stopped why you laugh when I haven't been funny and you answer right off you never stop to think what I've asked you he stopped walking you are an odd one he said looking at her haven't you any respect I don't mean to be insulting it's just I love to watch people too much I guess well doesn't this mean anything to you he tapped the numerals four five one stitched on his char colored sleeve yes she whispered she increased her pace watch the jet cars racing on the boulevards down that way you're changing the subject I sometimes think drivers don't know what grass is or flowers because they never see them slowly she said if you showed a driver a green blur oh yes he'd say that's grass a pink blur that's a rose garden white blurs a houses Brown blurs or cows my uncle drove slowly on a highway once he drove 40 miles an hour and they jailed him for two days isn't that funny and sad too you think too many things said Montag uneasily I rarely watched the parlor walls or go to races or fun parks so I have lots of time for crazy thoughts I guess have you seen the 200 footlong billboards in the country beyond town did you know that once billboards were only 20 feet long the cars started rushing by so quickly they had to stretch the advertising out so it would last I didn't know the Hat Montag laughed abruptly bet I know something else you don't there's dew on the grass in the morning he suddenly couldn't remember if he had known this or not and it made him quite irritable and if you look she nodded at the sky there's a man in the moon he hadn't looked for a long time they walked the rest of the way in silence hers thoughtful his a kind of clinching an uncomfortable silence in which he shot her accusing glances when they reached her house all its lights were blazing what's going on Montag had rarely seen that many house lights oh just my mother and father and uncle sitting around talking it's like being a pedestrian only rarer my uncle was arrested another time did I tell you for being a pedestrian oh we're most peculiar but what do you talk about she laughed at this good night she started up her walk then she seemed to remember something and came back to look at him with wonder and curiosity are you happy she said am i what he cried but she was gone running in the moonlight her door shut gently happy of all the nonsense he stopped laughing he put his hand into the glove hole of his front door and let it know his touch the front door slid open of course I'm happy what does she think I'm not he asked the quiet rooms he stood looking up at the ventilator grill in the hall and suddenly remembered that something lay hidden behind the grill something that seemed to peer down at him now he moved his eyes quickly away what strange meeting on a strange night nothing like it save one afternoon a year ago when he had met an old man in the park and they had talked Montag shook his head he looked at a blank wall the girl's face was there really quite beautiful in memory astonishing in fact she had a very thin face like the dial of a small clock seen faintly in a dark room in the middle of a night when you waken to see the time and see the clock telling you the hour and the minute in the second with a white silence and a glowing all certainty and knowing what it had to tell of the night passing swiftly on toward further darkness 'as but moving also toward a new Sun what Hass Montag of that other self the subconscious idiot that ran babbling at times quite independent of will habit and conscience he glanced back at the wall how like a mirror to her face impossible for how many people did you know who refracted your own light to you people were more often he searched for a simile found one in his work torches blazing away until they whipped out how rarely did other people's faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression your own innermost trembling thought what incredible power of identification the girl had she was like the eager watcher of a marionette show anticipating each flicker of an eyelid each gesture of his hand each flick of a finger the moment before it began how long did they walk together three minutes five yet how large that time seemed now mensa figure she was on the stage before him what a shadow she threw on the wall with her slender body he felt that if his I hitched she might blink and if the muscles of his jaws stretched imperceptibly she would yawn long before he would why he thought now that I think of it she almost seemed to be waiting for me there in the street so damned late at night he opened the bedroom door it was like coming into the cold marbled room of a mausoleum after the moon has set complete darkness not a hint of the silver world outside the windows tightly shut the chamber a tomb world where no sound from the great city could penetrate the room was not empty he listened the little mosquito delicate dancing hum in the air the electrical murmur of a hidden wasp snug in its special pink warm nest the music was almost loud enough so he could follow the tune he felt his smile slide away melt fold over and down on itself like a tallow skin like the stuff of a fantastic candle burning too long and now collapsing and now blown out darkness he was not happy he was not happy he said the words to himself he recognized this as the true state of affairs he wore his happiness like a mask and the girl had run off across the lawn with the mask and there was no way of going to knock on her door and ask for it back without turning on the life he imagined how this room would look his wife stretched out on the bed uncovered and cold like a body displayed on the lid of a tomb her eyes fixed to the ceiling by invisible threads of Steel immovable and in arrears the seashells the thimble radios tamped tight and an electronic ocean of sound of music and talk and music and talk coming in coming in on the shore of her unsleeping mind the room was indeed empty every night the waves came in and bore her off on their great tides of sound floating her wide-eyed toward morning there had been no night in the last two years that Mildred had not swung that sea had not gladly gone down in it for the third time the room was cold but nonetheless he felt he could not breathe he did not wish to open the drapes and open the French windows for he did not want the moon to come into the room so with the feeling of a man who will die in the next hour for lack of air he felt his way toward his Oakland separate and therefore cold bed an instant before his foot hit the object on the floor he knew he would hit such an object he was not unlike the feeling he had experienced before turning the corner and almost knocking the girl down his foot sending vibrations ahead received back echoes of the small barrier across its path even as the foot swung his foot kicked the object gave a dull clink and slid off in darkness he stood very straight and listened to the person on the dark bed in the completely featureless night the breath coming out the nostrils was so faint it stirred only the farthest fringes of life a small leaf a black feather a single fibre of hair he still did not want outside light he pulled out his igniter felt the salamander etched on its silver disc gave it a flick to moonstones looked up at him in the light of his small handheld fire to pale moon stones buried in a creek of clear water over which the life of the world ran not touching them Mildred her face was like a snow-covered island upon which rain might fall but it felt no rain over which clouds might pass their moving shadows but she felt no shadow only the singing of the thimble wasps in attempt shut ears in her eyes all glass and breath going in now softly faintly in and out her nostrils and her not caring whether it came or went went or came the object he had sent tumbling with his foot now glinted under the edge of his own bed the small crystal bottle of sleeping tablets which earlier today had been filled with 30 capsules and which now lay uncapped and empty in the light of the tiny flare as he stood there the sky over the house screamed there was a tremendous ripping sound as if two giant hands had torn ten thousand miles of black lines down the seam Montag was cut in half he felt his chest chopped down and split apart the jet bombers going over going over going over one-two one-two one-two six of them nine of them twelve of them one and one and one and another and another and another did all the screaming for him he opened his own mouth and let the shriek come down and out between his bared teeth the house shook the flare went out in his hand the moon stones vanished he felt his hand plunged toward the telephone the Jets were gone he felt his lips move brushing the mouthpiece of the phone emergency hospital a terrible whisper he felt that the stars had been pulverized by the sound of the black Jets and that in the morning the earth would be covered with their dust like a strange snow that was his idiot thought as he stood shivering in the dark and let his lips go on moving and moving they had this machine they have two machines really one of them slid down into your stomach like a black Cobra down and echoing well looking for all the old water and the old time gathered there it drank up the green matter that flowed to the top in a slow boil did it drink of the darkness did it suck out all the poisons accumulated with the years it fed in silence with an occasional sound of inner suffocation and blind searching it had an eye the impersonal operator of the machine could by wearing a special optical helmet gaze into the soul of the person whom he was pumping out what did the eye see he did not say he saw but did not see what the eyes saw the entire operation was not unlike the digging of a trench in one's yard the woman on the bed was no more than a hard stratum of marble they had reached go on anyway shove the bore down slush up the emptiness if such a thing could be brought out in the throb of the suction snake the operator stood smoking a cigarette the other machine was working to the other machine operated by an equally impersonal fellow in non stainable reddish brown coveralls this machine pumped all of the blood from the body and replaced it with fresh blood and serum gotta clean him out both ways said the operator standing over the silent woman no use getting the stomach if you don't clean the blood leave that stuff in the blood and the blood hits the brain like a mallet bang a couple thousand times and the brain just gives up just quits stop it said Montag I was just sayin said the operator are you done said Montag they shut the machines up tight we're done his anger did not even touch them with the cigarette smoke curling around their noses and into their eyes without making them blink or squint that's 50 bucks first why don't you tell me if she'll be all right sure she'll be okay we got all the mean stuff right in our suitcase here they can't get at her now as I said you take out the old and put in the new and you're okay neither of you is an MD why didn't they send an MD from emergency hell the operators cigarette moved on his lip we get these cases nine or ten a night got so many starting a few years ago we had the special machines built with the optical lens of course that was new the rest is ancient you don't need an MD case like this all you need is two handy men clean up the problem in half an hour look he started for the door we gotta go just had another call on the old ear thimble ten blocks from here someone else just jumped off the cap of a pillbox call if you need us again keep her quiet we got a contra sedative in her she'll wake up hungry so long and the men with the cigarettes in their straight-lined mouths the men with the eyes of puff adders took up their load of machine and tube their case of liquid melancholy and the slow dark sludge of nameless stuff and strolled out the door Montague sank down into a chair and looked at this woman her eyes were closed now and gently and he put out his hand to feel the warmness of breath on his palm Mildred he said at last there are too many of us he thought there are billions of us and that's too many nobody knows anyone strangers come and violate you strangers come and cut your heart out strangers come and take your blood good God who were those men I never saw them before in my life half an hour past the bloodstream in this woman was new and it seemed to have done a new thing to her her cheeks were very pink and her lips were very fresh and full of color and they looked soft and relaxed someone else's blood there if only someone else's flesh and brain and memory if only they could have taken her mind along to the drycleaners and emptied the pockets and steamed and cleanse didn't reblocked it and brought it back in the morning if only he got up and put back the drapes and opened the windows wide to let the night air in it was two o'clock in the morning was it only an hour ago Clarisse McLellan in the street and him coming in in the darkroom and his foot kicking the little crystal bottle only an hour but the world had melted down and sprung up in a new and colorless form laughter blew across the moon colored lawn from the house of Clarisse and her father and mother and the uncle who smiled so quietly and so earnestly above all their laughter was relaxed and Hardy and not forced in any way coming from the house that was so brightly lit this late at night while all the other houses were kept to themselves in darkness Montague heard the voices talking talking talking giving talking weaving reweaving their hypnotic web Montague moved out through the French windows and crossed the lawn without even thinking of it he stood outside the talking house in the shadows thinking he might even tap on their door and whisper let me come in I won't say anything I just want to listen what is it you're saying but instead he stood there very cold his face a mask of ice listening to a man's voice the uncle moving along at an easy pace well after all this is the age of the disposable tissue blow your nose on a person wad them flush them away reach for another blow wad flush everyone using everyone else's coattails how are you supposed to root for the home team when you don't even have a program or know the names that matter what color jerseys are they're wearing as they trot out on the field Montague moved back to his own house left the window wide checked Mildred tuck the covers about her carefully and then lay down with the moonlight on his cheekbones and on the frowning ridges in his brow with the moonlight distilled in each eye to form a silver cataract there one drop of rain Clarisse another drop Mildred a third the uncle a fourth the fire tonight one Clarisse to Mildred three uncle four fire one Mildred two Riis 1 2 3 4 5 clarice Mildred uncle fire sleeping tablets men disposable tissue coattails blow wad flush Clarice Mildred uncle fire tablets tissues blow wad flush 1 2 3 1 2 3 rain the storm the uncle laughing Thunder falling downstairs the whole world pouring down the fire gushing up in a volcano all rushing on down around in a spouting roar and rivering stream toward morning I don't know anything anymore he said and let his sleep lozenge dissolve on his tongue at 9:00 in the morning Mildred's bed was empty Montague got up quickly his heart pumping and ran down the hall and stopped at the kitchen door toast popped out of the silver toaster was seized by a spidering metal hand that drenched it with melted butter Mildred watched the toast delivered to her plate she had both ears plugged with electronic bees that were humming the hour away she looked up suddenly saw him and nodded you all right he asked she was an expert at lip-reading from 10 years of apprenticeship at seashell ear thimbles she nodded again she set the toaster clicking away at another piece of bread Montag sat down his wife said I don't know why I should be so hungry you I'm hungry last night he began didn't sleep well feel terrible she said god I'm hungry I can't figure it last night he said again she watched his lips casually what about last night don't you remember what did we have a wild party or something feel like of a hangover god I'm hungry who was here a few people he said that's what I thought she chewed her toast sore stomach but I'm hungry as all get-out hope I didn't do anything foolish at the party no he said quietly the toasters spidered out a piece of buttered bread for him he held it in his hand feeling obligated you don't look so hot yourself said his wife in the late afternoon it rained and the entire world was dark and gray he stood in the Hall of his house putting on his badge with the orange salamander burning across it he stood looking up at the air-conditioning vent in the hall for a long time his wife in the TV parlor paused long enough from reading her script to glance up hey she said the man's thinking yes he said I wanted to talk to you he paused you took all the pills in your bottle last night oh I wouldn't do that she said surprised the bottle was empty I wouldn't do a thing like that why would I do a thing like that she said maybe you took two pills and forgotten took two more and forgot again and took two more and we're so dopey you kept right on until he had 30 or 40 of the menu heck she said why would I want to go and do a silly thing like that for I don't know he said she was quite obviously waiting for him to go I didn't do that she said never in a billion years all right if you say so he said that's what the lady said she turned back to her script what's on this afternoon he asked tiredly she didn't look up from the script again well this is a play comes on the wall der waals circuit in ten minutes they mailed me my part this morning I sent in some box tops they write the script with one part missing is a new idea the homemaker that's me is the missing part when it comes time for the missing lines they all look at me out of the three walls and I say the lines here for instance the man says what do you think of this whole idea Helen and he looks at me sitting here center stage see and I say I say she paused and ran her finger under a line on the script I think that's fine and then they go on with the play until he says do you agree to that Helen and I say I sure do isn't that fun guy he stood in the hall looking at her it's sure fun she said what's the play about I just told you there are these people named Bob and Ruth and Helen oh it's really fun it'll be even more fun when we can afford to have the fourth wall installed how long do you figure before we save up and get the fourth wall torn out in a fourth wall TV put in it's only $2,000 that's one third of my yearly pay it's only $2,000 she replied and I should think you'd consider me sometimes if we had a fourth wall what it would be just like this room wasn't ours at all but all kinds of exotic people's rooms we could do without a few things we're already doing without a few things to pay for the third wall it was only put in two months ago remember is that all it was she sat looking at him for a long moment well good-bye dear goodbye he said he stopped and turned around does it have a happy ending either read that far he walked over read the last page nodded folded the script and handed it back to her he walked out of the house into the rain the rain was thinning away and the girl was walking in the center of the sidewalk with her head up and the few drops falling on her face she smiled when she saw Montag hello he said hello and then said what are you up to now I'm still crazy the rain feels good I love to walk in it I don't think I'd like that he said you mind if you tried I never have she licked her lips rain even tastes good what'd you do go around trying everything once he asked sometimes twice she looked at something in her hand what have you got there he said I guess it's the last of the dandelions this year I didn't think I'd got one on the lawn this late have you ever heard of rubbing it under your chin look she touched her chin with the flower laughing why if it rubs off it means I'm in love has it he could hardly do anything else but look well she said you're yellow under there fine you now it won't work for me here before he could move she had put the dandelion under his chin he drew back and she laughed hold still she peered under his chin and frowned well he said what a shame she said you're not in love with anyone yes I am it doesn't show I am very much in love he tried to conjure up a face to fit the words but there was no face I am oh please don't look that way it's that dandelion he said you've used it all up in yourself that's why I won't work for me of course that must be it well now I've upset you I can see I have I'm sorry really I am she touched his elbow no no he said quickly I'm all right I've got to be going so say you forgive me I don't want you angry with me I'm not angry upset yes I've gotta go see my psychiatrist now they make me go I make up things to say I don't know what he thinks of me he says I'm a regular onion I keep him busy peeling away the layers I'm inclined to believe you need the psychiatrist said Montag you don't mean that he took a breath and let it out and at last said no I don't mean that the psychiatrist wants to know why I go out and hike around in the forests and watch the birds and collect butterflies I'll show you my collection someday good they want to know what I do with my time I tell them that sometimes I just sit and think but I won't tell them what I've got them running and sometimes I tell them like to put my hand back like this and let the rain fall in my mouth it tastes just like wine have you ever tried it no I you have forgiven me haven't you yes he thought about it yes I have God knows why you're peculiar you're aggravating yet you're easy to forgive you say you're seventeen well next month how odd how strange and my wife 30 and yet you seem so much older at times I can't get over it you're peculiar yourself mr. Montag sometimes I even forget you're a fireman now may I make you angry again go ahead how did it start how did you get into it how did you pick your work and how did you happen to think to take the job you have you're not like the others I've seen a few I know when I talk you look at me when I said something about the moon you looked at the moon last night the others would never do that the others would walk off and leave me talking or threaten me no one has time anymore for anyone else you're one of the few who put up with me that's why I think it's so strange or a fireman it just doesn't seem right for you somehow he felt his body divided itself into a hotness and a coldness a softness and a hardness of trembling and a not trembling the two halves grinding one upon the other you'd better run on to your appointment he said and she ran off and left him standing there in the rain only after a long time did he move and then very slowly as he walked he tilted his head back in the rain for just a few moments and opened his mouth the mechanical hound slept but did not sleep lived but did not live in its gently humming gently vibrating softly illuminated kennel back in a dark corner of the firehouse the dim light of 1:00 in the morning the moonlight from the open sky framed through the gray dough touched here and there on the brass and the copper and the steel of the faintly trembling beasts light flickered on bits of Ruby glass and on sensitive capillary hairs in the nylon brushed nostrils of the creature that quivered gently gently its eight legs spidered under it on rubber padded paws Montag slid down the brass pole he went out to look at the city and the clouds had cleared away completely and he lit a cigarette and came back to bend down and look at the hound he was like a great bee come home from some field where the honey is full of poison wildness of insanity and nightmare its body crammed with that / rich nectar and now it was sleeping the evil out of itself hello whispered Montag fascinated as always with the dead Beast to the living Beast nights when things got dull which was every night the men slid down the brass poles and set the ticking combinations of the old factory system of the hound and let loose rats in the firehouse area way and sometimes chickens and sometimes cats that would have to be drowned anyway and there would be betting to see which of the cats or chickens or rats the hound would seize first the animals were turned loose three seconds later the game was done the rat cat or chicken caught half across the area way gripped by gentling paws while a four-inch hollow steel needle plunged down from the proboscis of the hound to inject massive jolts of morphine or propane the pawn was then tossed in the incinerator a new game began Montag stayed upstairs most nights when this went on had been a time two years ago when he had bet with the best of them and lost a week's salary and faced Mildred's insane anger which showed itself in veins and blotches but now nights he lay in his bunk face turned to the wall listening to the whoops of laughter below in the piano strings scurry of rat feet the violin squeaking of mice and the great shadowing motioned silence of the hound leaping out like a moth in the raw light finding holding its victim inserting the needle and going back to its kennel to die as if a switch had been turned Montag touched the muzzle the hound growled Montag jumped back the hound half rose in its kennel and looked at him with green blue neon light flickering and it suddenly activated eye bulbs it growled again a strange rasping combination of electrical sizzle a frying sound a scraping of metal a turning of cogs that seemed rusty and ancient with suspicion no no boy said Montag his heart pounding he saw the silver needle extend upon the air an inch pullback extend pull back the growls simmered in the Beast and it looked at him Montag backed up the Hound took a step from its kennel Montague grabbed the brass pole with one hand the pole reacting slid upward and took him through the ceiling quietly he stepped off in the Haslet deck of the upper level he was trembling and his face was green white below the and sunk back down upon it's eight incredible insect legs and was humming to itself again its multifaceted eyes at peace Montague stood letting the fears pass by the drop hole behind him four men at a card table under a green littered light in the corner glanced briefly but said nothing only the man with the captain's hat and the sign of the phoenix on his hat at last curious his playing cards in his thin hand talked across the long room Montague it doesn't like me said Montague what the hound the captain studied his cards come off it it doesn't like or dislike it just functions it's like a lesson in ballistics it has a trajectory we decide on for it it follows through the targets itself Holmes itself and cuts off its only copper wires storage batteries and electricity Montague swallowed its calculators can be set to any combination so many amino acids so much sulphur so much butter fat and alkaline right we all know that all of those chemical balances and percentages on all of us here in the house are recorded in the master file downstairs it would be easy for someone to set up a partial combination on the hounds memory a touch of amino acids perhaps that would account for what the animal did just now reacted toward me he'll said the captain irritated but not completely angry just enough memory set up in it by someone so it growled when I touched it who would do a thing like that ask the captain you haven't any enemies here guy none that I know of we'll have that unchecked by our technicians tomorrow this isn't the first time it's threatened me said Montague month it happened twice we'll fix it up don't worry but Montague did not move and only stood thinking of the ventilator grill in the hall at home and what lay hidden behind the grill if someone here in the firehouse knew about the ventilator then might'n they tell the Hound the captain came over to the drop hold and gave Montague a questioning glance I was just figuring said Montague what does the helm think about down there nights is it coming alive on us really it makes me cold it doesn't think anything we don't want it to think that's sad said Montague quietly because all we put into it is hunting and finding and killing what a shame if that's all I can never know Faithie snorted gently hell it's fine bit of craftsmanship a good rifle that can fetch its own target and guarantees the bullseye every time that's why said Montague I wouldn't want to be its next victim why you got a guilty conscience about something Montague glanced up swiftly Beatty stood there looking at him steadily with his eyes while his mouth opened and began to laugh very softly one two three four five six seven days and as many times he came out of the house and Clarisse was there somewhere in the world once he saw her shaking a walnut tree once he saw her sitting on the lawn knitting a blue sweater three or four times he found a bouquet of late flowers on his porch or a handful of chestnuts in a little sack or some autumn leaves neatly pinned to a sheet of white paper and thumbtack to his door every day Clarice walked him to the corner one day it was raining the next it was clear the day after that the wind blew strong and the day after that it was mild and calm and the day after that calm day was a day like the furnace of summer and Clarice with her face all sunburned by late afternoon why is it he said one time at the subway entrance I feel I've known you so many years because I like you she said and I don't want anything from you and because we know each other you make me feel very old and very much like a father now you explain she said why you haven't any daughters like me if you love children so much I don't know you're choking I mean he stopped and shook his head well my wife she she just never wanted any children at all the girl stopped smiling I'm sorry I really thought you were having fun at my expense I'm a fool no no he said it was a good question it's been a long time since anyone cared enough to ask a good question let's talk about something else have you ever smelled old leaves don't they smell like cinnamon here smell well yes it is like cinnamon in a way she looked at him with her clear dark eyes you always seem shocked it's just I haven't had time did you look at the stretched out billboards like I told you I think so yes he had to laugh your laugh sounds much nicer than it did does it much more relaxed he felt at ease and comfortable why aren't you in school I see you every day wandering around oh they don't miss me she said I'm antisocial they say I don't mix it's so strange a very social indeed it all depends on what you mean by social doesn't it social to me means talking to you about things like this she rattled some chestnuts that had fallen off the tree in the front yard we're talking about how strange the world is being with people is nice but I don't think it's social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk do you an hour of TV class an hour a basketball of baseball or running another hour of transcription history you're painting pictures and more sports but do you know we never ask questions or at least most don't they just run the answers at your Bing Bing Bing in us sitting there for four more hours of film teacher that's not social to me at all it's a lot of funnels and a lot of water pour down the spouts and out the bottom and then telling us it's why and when it's not they run a so ragged by the end of the day we can't do anything but go to bed or head for a fun park to bully people around brick windowpanes in the window smash a place or wrecked cars in the car wreck a place with the big steel ball or go out in the cars and race on the streets trying to see how close you can get to lampposts playing chicken and knock hubcaps I guess I'm everything they say I am all right I haven't any friends that's supposed to prove I'm abnormal but everyone I know is either shouting or dancing around like wild or beating up one another do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays you sound so very old sometimes I'm ancient of children my own age they kill each other did it always used to be that way my uncle says no six my friends have been shot in the last year alone ten of them died in car wrecks I'm afraid of them and they don't like me because I'm afraid my uncle says his grandfather remembered when children didn't kill each other but that was a long time ago when they had things different they believed in responsibility my uncle says do you know I'm responsible I was spanked when I needed it years ago and I do all the shopping and housecleaning by hand but most of all she said I like to watch people sometimes I ride the subway all day and look at them and listen to them I just want to think you're out who they are and what they want and where they're going sometimes I even go to the fun parks and ride in the jet cars when they race on the edge of town at midnight and the police don't care as long as they're insured as long as everyone has 10,000 insurance everyone's happy sometimes I sneak around and listen in Subway's or I listen it soda fountains and do you know what what people don't talk about anything oh they must know not anything they name a lot of cars or clothes or swimming pools mostly and say how swell but they all say the same things and nobody says anything different from anyone else and most of the time in the caves they have the joke boxes on and the same jokes most of the time or the musical wall lifts and all the colored patterns running up and down but it's only color and all abstract and at the museum's have you ever been all abstract that's all there is no my uncle says it was different once a long time back sometimes pictures send things or even showed people your uncle said your uncle said your uncle must be a remarkable man he is he certainly is well I got to be going Montag goodbye goodbye one two three four five six seven days the firehouse Montag you shin that pole like a bird up a tree third day Montag I see you came in the back door this time the hound bother you no no fourth day Montag a funny thing heard tell this morning fireman in Seattle purposely set a mechanical hound to his own chemical complex and let it loose what kind of suicide would you call that five six seven days and then Clarice was gone he didn't know what there was about the afternoon but it was not seeing her somewhere in the world the lawn was empty the trees empty the street empty and while at first he did not even know he missed her or was even looking for her the fact was by the time he reached the subway there were vague stirrings of dis-ease in him something was the matter his routine had been disturbed a simple routine true established in a short few days and yet he almost turned back to make the walk again to give her time to appear he was certain if he tried the same route everything would work out fine but it was late and the arrival of his train put a stop to his plan the flutter of cards motion of hands of islands the drone of the time voice in the firehouse ceiling 1:35 Thursday morning November 4th 136 137 a.m. the tick of the playing cards in the greasy tabletop all the sounds came to Montag behind his closed eyes behind the barrier he had momentarily erected could feel the firehouse full of glitter and shine and silence of brass colors the colors of coins of gold of silver the unseen men across the table were sighing on their cards waiting 145 the voice clock mourned out the cold hour of a cold morning of a still colder year what's wrong Montague Montague opened his eyes a radio hummed somewhere war may be declared any hour this country stands ready to defend its the firehouse trembled as a great flight of jet planes whistled a single note across the black morning sky Montague blinked Beatty was looking at him as if he were a museum statue at any moment Beatty might rise and walk about him touching exploring his guilt and self-consciousness guilt what guilt was that y'all play Montague Montague looked at these men whose faces were sunburnt by a thousand reel and ten thousand imaginary fires whose work flushed their cheeks and fevered their eyes these men who looked steadily into their platinum ignitor flames as they lit their eternally burning black pipes they and their charcoal hair and soot colored brows and bluish ash smeared cheeks where they had shaven clothes but their heritage showed Montague started up his mouth opened had he ever seen a fireman that didn't have black hair black brows a fiery face and a blue steel shaved but unshaved look these men were all mirror images of himself we're all firemen picked them for their looks as well as their proclivities the color of cinders and ash about them and the continual smell of burning from their pipes captain Beatty they're rising in Thunder heads of tobacco smoke baby opening a fresh tobacco packet crumbling the cellophane into a sound of fire Montague looked at the cards in his own hands I I've been thinking about the fire last week about the man whose library we fixed what happened to him they took him screaming off to the asylum he wasn't insane Bedi arranged his cards quietly any man's insane who thinks he can fool the government and us I've tried to imagine said Montag just how it would feel I mean to have firemen burn our houses and our books we haven't any books but if we did have some you got some baby blinked slowly no Montag gazed beyond them to the wall with the typed lists of a million forbidden books their names left in the fire burning down the years under his axe and his hose which sprayed not water but kerosene no but in his mind a cool wind started up and blew out of the ventilator grill at home softly softly chilling his face and again he saw himself in a green park talking to an old man a very old man and the wind from the park was cold too Montag hesitated was was it always like this the firehouse our work I mean well once upon a time once upon a time Beatty said what kind of talk is that fool thought Montag to himself you'll give it away at the last fire a book of fairytales he glanced at a single line I mean he said in the old days before homes were completely fireproof suddenly it seemed a much younger voice was speaking for him he opened his mouth and it was Clarisse McLellan saying didn't fireman prevent fires rather than Stoke them up and get them going that's rich Stoneman and black drew forth their rule books which also contained brief histories of the firemen of America and laid them out where Montag though long familiar with them might read established 1792 burn English influenced books in the colonies first fireman Benjamin Franklin Ruehl one answered the alarm swiftly to start the fire swiftly three burn everything for report back to firehouse immediately five stand alert for other alarms everyone watched Montag he did not move the alarm sounded the bell in the ceiling kicked itself 200 times suddenly there were four empty chairs the cards fell in a flurry of snow the brass poles shivered the men were gone Montag sat in his chair below the orange dragon coughed to life Montag slid down the pole like a man in a dream the mechanical hound left up in its kennel its eyes all green flame Montag you forgot your helmet he seized it off the wall behind him ran left and they were off the Nightwind hammering about their sirens scream and they're mighty metal thunder it was a flaking three-story house in the ancient part of the city a century old if it was a day but like all houses it had been given a thin fireproof plastic sheath many years ago and this preservative shell seemed to be the only thing holding it in the sky here we are the engine slammed to a stop Beatty Stoneman and black ran up the sidewalk suddenly odious and fat in their plump fireproof slickers Montag followed they crashed the front door and grabbed at a woman though she was not running she was not trying to escape she was only standing weaving from side to side her eyes fixed upon a nothingness in the wall as if they had struck her a terrible blow upon the head her tongue was moving in her mouth and her eyes seemed to be trying to remember and then they remembered and her tongue moved again play the man master Ridley we shall this day light such a candle by God's grace in England as I trust shall never be put out enough of that said Beatty where are they he slapped her face with amazing objectivity and repeated the question the old woman's eyes came to a focus upon Beatty you know where they are or you wouldn't be here she said Stoneman held out the telephone alarm card with the complaint signed in telephone duplicate on the back have reason to suspect attic 11 North Elm City EB that would be mrs. Blake my neighbor said the woman reading the initials alright man let's get him next thing they were up in musty blackness swinging silver hatchets and doors that were after all unlocked tumbling through like boys all rollick and shout hey a fountain of books sprang down upon montague as he climbed shuddering up the sheer stairwell how inconvenient always before it had been like snuffing a candle the police went first and adhesive tape to the victims mouth and bandaged him off into their glittering beetle cars so when you arrived you found an empty house you weren't hurting anyone you were hurting only things and since things really couldn't be hurt since things felt nothing and things don't scream or whimper as this woman might begin to scream and cry out there was nothing to tease your conscience later you were simply cleaning up janitorial work essentially everything to its proper place quick with kerosene who's got a match but now tonight someone had slipped this woman was spoiling the ritual the men were making too much noise laughing joking to cover her terrible accusing silence below she made the empty rooms roar with accusation and shake down a fine dust of guilt it was sucked in their nostrils as they plunged about it was neither cricket nor correct Montag felt an immense irritation she shouldn't be here on top of everything books bombarded his shoulders his arms his upturned face a book lit almost obediently like a white pigeon in his hands wings fluttering in the dim wavering light a page hung open and it was like a snowy feather the words delicately painted thereon in all the Russian fervor Montag had only an instant to read a line but it blazed in his mind for the next minute as if stamped there with fiery steel time has fallen asleep in the afternoon sunshine he dropped the book immediately another fell into his arms Montag appear Montag's hand closed like a mouth crushed the book with wild devotion with an insanity of mindlessness to his chest the men above were hurling shovel fulls of magazines into the dusty air they fell like slaughtered Birds and the woman stood below like a small girl among the bodies Montag had done nothing his hand had done it all his hand with the brain of its own with a conscience and a curiosity in each trembling finger had turned thief now it plunged the book back under his arm pressed it tight to sweating armpit rushed out empty with the magicians flourish Leclaire innocent look he gazed shaken at that white hand he held it way out as if he were farsighted he held it close as if he were blind Montag he jerked about don't stand there idiot the books lay like great mounds of fishes left to dry the men danced and slipped and fell over them titles glittered their golden eyes falling gone kerosene they pumped the cold fluid from the numeral 451 tanks strapped to their shoulders they coated each book they pumped rooms full of it they hurried downstairs Montag's staggering after them in the kerosene fumes come on woman the woman knelt among the books the drenched leather and cardboard reading the gilt titles with her fingers while her eyes accused Montag you can't ever have my books she said you know the law said Beatty where's your common sense none of those books agree with each other you've been locked up here for years with a regular damn Tower of Babel snap out of it the people in those books never lived come on now she shook her head the whole house is going up said Beatty the men walked clumsily to the door the glanced back at Montague who stood near the woman you're not leaving her here he protested she won't come for sir then Beatty raised his hand in which was concealed the ignitor would do back at the house besides these fanatics always tries to aside the patterns familiar Montague placed his hand on the woman's elbow you can come with me no she said thank you anyway I'm counting to ten said Beatty one two please said Montague go on said the woman three four here Montague pulled at the woman the woman replied quietly I want to stay here five six you can stop counting she said she opened the fingers of one hand slightly and in the palm of the hand was a single slender object an ordinary kitchen match the sight of it rushed the men out and down away from the house captain Beatty keeping his dignity backed slowly through the front door his pink face burnt and shiny from a thousand fires and night excitements God thought Montague how true always at night the alarm comes never by day is because fire is prettier by night more spectacle a better show the pink face of Beatty now showed the faintest panic in the door the woman's hand twitched on the single matchstick the fumes of kerosene bloomed up about her Montag felt the hidden book pound like a heart against his chest go on said the woman and Montag felt himself back away and away out the door after Beatty down the steps across the lawn where the path of kerosene lay like the track of some evil snail on the front porch where she had come to weigh them quietly with her eyes her quietness a condemnation the woman stood motionless Beatty flicked his fingers to spark the kerosene he was too late Montag gasped the woman on the porch reached out with contempt to them all and struck the kitchen match against the railing people ran out of houses all down the street they said nothing on their way back to the firehouse nobody looked at anyone else Montag sat in the front seat with Beatty in black they did not even smoke their pipes they sat there looking out the front of the great salamander as they turned a corner and went silently on Master Ridley said Montag at last what said Beatty she said master Ridley she said some crazy thing when we came in the door play the man she said master Ridley's something something something we shall this daylight such a candle by God's grace in England as I trust she'll never be put out said Beatty Stoneman glanced over at the captain as did Montag startled Beatty rubbed his chin a man named Latimer said that to a man named Nicholas Ridley as they were being burned alive at Oxford for heresy on October 16th 1555 Montague and Stoneman went back to looking at the street as it moved under the engine wheels I'm full of bits and pieces said Beatty most fire captains have to be sometimes a surprise myself watch it Stoneman Stoneman break the truck damn said Beatty gone right by the corner where we turn for the firehouse who is it who would it be said Montag leaning back against the closed door in the dark his wife said at last well put on the light I don't want the light come to bed he heard a roll impatiently the bedsprings squealed are you drunk she said so it was the hand that started it all he felt one hand and then the other work his coat free and let it slumped to the floor he held his pants out into an abyss and let them fall into darkness his hands had been infected and soon it would be his arms he could feel the poison working up his wrists and into his elbows and his shoulders and then the jump over from shoulder blade to shoulder blade like a spark leaving a gap his hands were ravenous and his eyes were beginning to feel hunger as if they must look at something anything everything his wife said what are you doing he balanced in space with the book in his sweating cold fingers a minute later she said well just don't stand there in the middle of the floor he made a small sound what she asked he made more soft sounds he stumbled toward the bed and SH of the book clumsily under the cold pillow he fell into bed and his wife cried out startled he lay far across the room from her on a winter island separated by an empty sea she talked to him for what seemed a long while and she talked about this and she talked about that and it was only words like the words he had heard once in a nursery at a friend's house a two-year-old child building word patterns talking jargon making pretty sounds in the air but Montague said nothing and after a long while when he only made the small sounds he felt her move in the room and come to his bed and stand over him and put her hand down to feel his cheek knew that when she pulled her hand away from his face it was wet late in the night he looked over at Mildred she was awake there's a tiny dance of melody in the air her seashell was tamped in her ear again and she was listening too far people in fireplaces her eyes wide and staring at the fathoms of blackness above her in the ceiling wasn't there an old joke about the wife who talked so much on the telephone that her desperate husband ran out to the nearest store and telephoned her to ask what was for dinner well then why didn't he buy himself an audio seashell broadcasting station and talked to his wife late at night murmur whisper shout scream yell but what would he whisper what would he yell what could he say and suddenly she was so strange she couldn't believe he knew her at all he was in someone else's house like those other jokes people told of the gentleman drunk coming home late late at night unlocking the wrong door entering a wrong room and betting with the stranger and getting up early and going to work and neither of them the wiser Millie he whispered what I didn't mean to startle you what I want to know is well when did we meet and where when did we meet for what she asked I mean originally he knew she must be frowning in the dark he clarified it the first time we ever met where was it and when why it was it she stopped I don't know she said he was cold can't you remember it's been so long only ten years that's all only ten don't get excited I'm trying to think she laughed an odd little laugh that went up and up funny how funny not to remember where or when you met your husband or wife he lay massaging his eyes his brow in the back of his neck slowly held both hands over his eyes and apply to steady pressure there as if to crush memory into place it was suddenly more important than any other thing in a lifetime that he know where he had met Mildred it doesn't matter she was up in the bathroom now and he heard the water running and the swallowing sound she made no I guess not he said he tried to count how many times she swallowed and he thought of the visit from the two zinc oxide faced man with the cigarettes and their straight-lined mouths and the electronic ID snake winding down into the layer upon layer of night and stone and stagnant spring water and he wanted to call out to her how many have you taken tonight the capsules how many will you take later and not know and so on every hour or maybe not tonight tomorrow night and me not sleeping tonight or tomorrow night or any night for a long while now that this is started and he thought of her lying on the bed with the two technicians standing straight over her not bent with concern but only standing straight arms folded and he remembered thinking men that if she died he was certain he wouldn't cry for it would be the dying of an unknown a street face a newspaper image and it was suddenly so very wrong that he had begun to cry not in death but at the thought of not crying at death a silly empty man near a silly empty woman while the hungry snake made her still more empty how do you get so empty he wondered who takes it out of you and that awful flower the other day the dandelion it had summed up everything hadn't it what a shame you're not in love with anyone and why not well wasn't there a wall between him and Mildred when he came down to it literally not just one wall but so far three and expensive to the uncles the ants the cousins the nieces the nephews that lived in those walls the gibbering pack of tree Apes that said nothing nothing nothing and said it loud loud loud he had taken to calling them relatives from the very first house uncle Lewis today who and aunt Maude the most significant memory he had of Mildred really was of a little girl in a forest without trees how odd or rather a little lost on a plateau where there used to be trees you could feel the memory of their shapes all about sitting in the center of the living room the living room what a good job of labeling that was now no matter when he came in the walls were always talking to Mildred something must be done yes something must be done well let's not stand and talk let's do it I'm so mad I could spit what was it all about Mildred couldn't say who was mad at home Mildred didn't quite know what were they going to do well said Mildred wait around and see he had waited around to see a great thunderstorm of sound gushed from the walls music bombarded him at such an immense volume that his bones were almost shaken from their tendons he felt his jaw vibrate his eyes wobble in his head he was a victim of concussion when it was all over he felt like a man who had been thrown from a cliff world in a centrifuge and spat out over a waterfall that fell and fell into emptiness and emptiness and never quite touched bottom never never quite no not quite touched bottom and you fell so fast you didn't touch the sides either never quite touched anything the Thunder faded the music died there said Mildred and it was indeed remarkable something had happened though the people in the walls of the room had barely moved and nothing had really been settled you had the impression that someone had turned on a washing machine or sucked you up in a gigantic vacuum you drowned in music and pure cacophony he came out of the room sweating and on the point of collapse behind him Mildred sat in her chair and the voice went on again well everything will be all right now said Anand oh don't be too sure said a cousin now don't get angry who's angry you are I am you're mad why would I be mad because that's all very well cried Montague but what are they mad about who are these people who's that man and who's that woman are they husband and wife are they divorced engaged what could God nothing's connected up they said Mildred well they they had this fight you see they certainly fight a lot you should listen I think they're married yes they're married why and if it was not the three walls soon to be four walls in the dream complete then it was the open car and Mildred driving a hundred miles an hour across town he's shouting at her and she's shouting back and both trying to hear what was said but hearing only the scream of the car at least keep it down to the minimum he yelled what she cried keep it down to 55 the minimum he shouted the what she shrieked speed he shouted and she pushed it up to 105 miles an hour and tore the breath from his mouth when they stepped out of the car she had the seashells stuffed in her ears silence only the wind blowing softly Mildred he stirred in bed he reached over and pulled the tiny musical insect out of her ear Mildred Mildred yes her voice was faint he felt he was one of the creatures electronically inserted between the slots of the phone Oh color walls speaking but the speech not piercing the crystal barrier he could only pantomime hoping she would turn his way and see him they would not touch through the glass Mildred do you know that girl I was telling you about what girl she was almost asleep the girl next door what girl next door you know the high school girl Clarisse her name is oh yes said his wife I haven't seen her for a few days four days to be exact have you seen her no I meant to talk to you about her strange oh I know the one you mean I thought you would her said Mildred in the darkroom what about her I asked Montague I meant to tell you God forgot tell me now what is it I think she's gone gone whole family moved out somewhere but she's gone for good I think she's dead we couldn't be talking about the same girl no the same girl McClellan McClellan run over by a car four days ago I'm not sure but I think she's dead the family moved out anyway I don't know but I think she's dead you're not sure of it no not sure pretty sure why didn't you tell me sooner for God four days ago I forgot all about it four days ago he said quietly lying there they lay there in the dark room not moving either of them good night she said he heard a faint rustle her hand moved the electric thimble moved like a praying mantis on the pillow touched by her hand now it was in her ear again humming he listened and his wife was singing under her breath outside the house a shadow moved an autumn wind rose up and faded away but there was something else in the silence that he heard it was like a breath exhaled upon the window he was like a faint drift of greenish luminescent smoke the motion of a single huge October leaf blowing across the lawn and away the hound he thought it's out there tonight it's out there now if I open the window he did not open the window

Channel: Audiobook World

Views: 51,169

Rating: 4.8194776 out of 5

Keywords: Audiobook, audiobook

Id: 2CqDR35LHc4

Length: 78min 41sec (4721 seconds)

Published: Tue Jun 09 2020