By Damon Knight
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Extra info for A For Anything
He plunged back with a violent effort, and the mountain hit him hard. His ears rang. Dust rose around him. He sneezed and struggled to his feet. The man in the convertible looked up at him without speaking. The gun was a double-barreled shotgun, sawed off short. He held it with the stock tucked under his arm. His dusty blue polo shirt was dark with sweat; his face and his heavy arms were burnt brick-color, but he wore only a shabby polo cap against the sun. A deer rifle was propped against the seat near his hand, and the butts of two revolvers stuck out of his waistband.
Your father has . ” He came out of it with a start. The gelding had carried him all the way up the trail to Skytop; the sky was a wide blue bowl around him, and far off to northward he saw a glint of light: It was a dyne or copter, lowering. After a moment he saw another, and then a third. The guests were beginning to arrive. A for Anything 47 Chapter Five The Upper Hall was the crowded and stifling with noise. Women in clouds of chiffon and in bags of tweed, some with cheeks rouged in two staring disks, like dolls, others with honest country faces reddened by nothing but food, wine and fresh air, were complaining about the trip, fussing after children, nervously bowing when they encountered each other, like hens uncertain of whom to peck.
In her maiden days, it was said, A for Anything 57 she had once struck down a crazed slob with a mashie, and then resumed her game as calmly as if there had been no interruption. Now she said, “Of cours,e if you’re sure—” Dick finished his dutiful nods and bows to her companions. Feeling acutely uncomfortable, he said. “It may not be anything. ” Her hand touched his shoulder as she moved away, and then her clear voice was receding down the Hall: “. . this wing, as you know, was rebuilt by my husband’s father in the nineties .
A For Anything by Damon Knight