Song of Susannah by Stephen King Read Free Book Online Page B

small, tight circle. The door brightened and became more there —Jake saw this with his own eyes. The lines and circles of the hieroglyphs spelling UNFOUND grew clearer. The rose etched into the doorknob began to glow.
    The door, however, remained closed.
    ( Concentrate, boy! )
    That was Henchick’s voice, so strong in his head that it almost seemed to slosh Jake’s brains. He lowered his head and looked at the doorknob. He saw the rose. He saw it very well. He imagined it turning as the knob upon which it had been cast turned. Once not so long ago he had been obsessed by doors and the other world
    ( Mid-World )
    he knew must lie behind one of them. This felt like going back to that. He imagined all the doors he’d known in his life—bedroom doors bathroomdoors kitchen doors closet doors bowling alley doors cloakroom doors movie theater doors restaurant doors doors marked KEEP OUT doors marked EMPLOYEES ONLY refrigerator doors, yes even those—and then saw them all opening at once.
    Open! he thought at the door, feeling absurdly like an Arabian princeling in some ancient story. Open sesame! Open says me!
    From the cave’s belly far below, the voices began to babble once more. There was a whooping, windy sound, the heavy crump of something falling. The cave’s floor trembled beneath their feet, as if with another Beamquake. Jake paid no mind. The feeling of live force in this chamber was very strong now—he could feel it plucking at his skin, vibrating in his nose and eyes, teasing the hairs out from his scalp—but the door remained shut. He bore down more strongly on Roland’s hand and the Pere’s, concentrating on firehouse doors, police station doors, the door to the Principal’s Office at Piper, even a science fiction book he’d once read called The Door into Summer. The smell of the cave—deep must, ancient bones, distant drafts—seemed suddenly very strong. He felt that brilliant, exuberant uprush of certainty— Now, it will happen now, I know it will —yet the door still stayed closed. And now he could smell something else. Not the cave, but the slightly metallic aroma of his own sweat, rolling down his face.
    “Henchick, it’s not working. I don’t think I—”
    “Nar, not yet—and never think thee needs to do it all thyself, lad. Feel for something between you and the door . . . something like a hook . . . ora thorn . . .” As he spoke, Henchick nodded at the Manni heading the line of reinforcements. “Hedron, come forward. Thonnie, take hold of Hedron’s shoulders. Lewis, take hold of Thonnie’s. And on back! Do it!”
    The line shuffled forward. Oy barked doubtfully.
    “Feel, boy! Feel for that hook! It’s between thee and t’door! Feel for it!”
    Jake reached out with his mind while his imagination suddenly bloomed with a powerful and terrifying vividness that was beyond even the clearest dreams. He saw Fifth Avenue between Forty-eighth and Sixtieth (“the twelve blocks where my Christmas bonus disappears every January,” his father had liked to grumble). He saw every door, on both sides of the street, swinging open at once: Fendi! Tiffany! Bergdorf Goodman! Cartier! Doubleday Books! The Sherry Netherland Hotel! He saw an endless hallway floored with brown linoleum and knew it was in the Pentagon. He saw doors, at least a thousand of them, all swinging open at once and generating a hurricane draft.
    Yet the door in front of him, the only one that mattered, remained closed.
    Yeah, but—
    It was rattling in its frame. He could hear it.
    “Go, kid!” Eddie said. The words came from between clamped teeth. “If you can’t open it, knock the fucker down!”
    “Help me!” Jake shouted. “ Help me, goddammit! All of you !”
    The force in the cave seemed to double. The humseemed to be vibrating the very bones of Jake’s skull. His teeth were rattling. Sweat ran into his eyes, blurring his sight. He saw two Henchicks nodding to someone behind him: Hedron. And behind Hedron, Thonnie.