The Dark Tower by Stephen King Read Free Book Online Page A

It wouldn’t be considered realistic.”
    “In life,” Roland said, “I’m sure it happens all the time.”
    And Eddie laughed. What the hell else could you do? It was just so perfectly Roland .
FOUR
    BRIDGTON HIGH STREET 1
HIGHLAND LAKE 2
HARRISON 3
WATERFORD 6
SWEDEN 9
LOVELL 18
FRYEBURG 24
    They had just passed this sign when Eddie said, “Root around in the glove-compartment a little, Roland. See if ka or the Beam or whatever left us a little spare change for the pay phone.”
    “Glove—? Do you mean this panel here?”
    “Yeah.”
    Roland first tried to turn the chrome button on the front, then got with the program and pushed it. The inside was a mare’s nest that hadn’t been improved by the Galaxie’s brief period of weightlessness. There were credit card receipts, a very old tube of what Eddie identified as “tooth-paste” (Roland could make out the words HOLMES DENTAL on it quite clearly), a fottergraff showing a smiling little girl—Cullum’s niece, mayhap—on a pony, a stick of what he first took for explosive (Eddie said it was a road flare, for emergencies), a magazine that appeared to be called YANKME . . . and a cigar-box. Roland couldn’t quite make out the word on this, although he thought itmight be trolls . He showed the box to Eddie, whose eyes lit up.
    “That says TOLLS ,” he said. “Maybe you’re right about Cullum and ka. Open it up, Roland, do it please ya.”
    The child who had given this box as a gift had crafted a loving (and rather clumsy) catch on the front to hold it closed. Roland slipped the catch, opened the box, and showed Eddie a great many silver coins. “Is it enough to call sai Cullum’s house?”
    “Yeah,” Eddie said. “Looks like enough to call Fairbanks, Alaska. It won’t help us a bit, though, if Cullum’s on the road to Vermont.”
FIVE
    The Bridgton town square was bounded by a drug store and a pizza-joint on one side; a movie theater (The Magic Lantern) and a department store (Reny’s) on the other. Between the theater and the department store was a little plaza equipped with benches and three pay phones.
    Eddie swept through Cullum’s box of toll-change and gave Roland six dollars in quarters. “I want you to go over there,” he said, pointing at the drug store, “and get me a tin of aspirin. Will you know it when you see it?”
    “Astin. I’ll know it.”
    “The smallest size they have is what I want, because six bucks really isn’t much money. Then go next door, to that place that says Bridgton Pizza and Sandwiches. If you’ve still got at least sixteen of those money-coins left, tell them you want a hoagie.”
    Roland nodded, which wasn’t good enough for Eddie. “Let me hear you say it.”
    “Hoggie.”
    “Hoagie .”
    “HOOG-gie .”
    “Ho—” Eddie quit. “Roland, let me hear you say ‘poorboy.’”
    “Poor boy.”
    “Good. If you have at least sixteen quarters left, ask for a poorboy. Can you say ‘lots of mayo’?”
    “Lots of mayo.”
    “Yeah. If you have less than sixteen, ask for a salami and cheese sandwich. Sandwich, not a popkin.”
    “Salommy sanditch.”
    “Close enough. And don’t say anything else unless you absolutely have to.”
    Roland nodded. Eddie was right, it would be better if he did not speak. People only had to look at him to know, in their secret hearts, that he wasn’t from these parts. They also had a tendency to step away from him. Better he not exacerbate that.
    The gunslinger dropped a hand to his left hip as he turned toward the street, an old habit that paid no comfort this time; both revolvers were in the trunk of Cullum’s Galaxie, wrapped in their cartridge belts.
    Before he could get going again, Eddie grabbed his shoulder. The gunslinger swung round, eyebrows raised, faded eyes on his friend.
    “We have a saying in our world, Roland—we say so-and-so was grasping at straws.”
    “And what does it mean?”
    “This,” Eddie said bleakly. “What we’re doing. Wish me good