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le scrap of a girl and run away with her。
'And that was when Margaret White came out of her back door and saw us。'
'For a minute she just goggled as if she couldn't believe it。 Then she opened her mouth and whooped。 That's the ugliest sound I've ever beard in my life。 It was like the noise of a bull alligator would make in a swamp。 She just whooped。 Rage。 plete； insane rage。 Her face went just as red as the side of a fire truck and she curled her hands into fists and whooped at the sky。 She was shaking all over。 I thought she was having a stroke。 Her face was all scrunched up； and it was a gargoyle's face。
'I thought Carrie was going to faint … or die on the spot。 She sucked in all her breath and that little face went a cottage…cheesy colour。
'Her mother yelled： 〃CAAAARRIEEEEEE！〃
'I jumped up and yelled back： 〃Don't you yell at her that way！ You ought to be ashamed！〃 Something stupid like that。 I don't remember。 Carrie started to go back and then she stopped and then she started again； and just before she crossed over from our lawn to theirs she looked back at me and there was a look 。。。 oh； dreadful。 I can't say it。 Wanting and hating and fearing 。。。 and misery。 As if life itself had fallen on her like stones； all at the age of three。
'My mother came out on the back stoop and her face just crumpled when she saw the child。 And Margaret 。。。 oh； she was screaming things about sluts and strumpets and the sins of the fathers being visited even into the seventh generation。 My tongue felt like a little dried…up plant。
'For just a second Carrie stood swaying back and forth between the two yards； and then Margaret White looked upward and I swear sweet Jesus that woman bayed at the sky。 And then she started to 。。。 to hurt herself； scourge herself。 She was clawing at her neck and cheeks； making red marks and scratches。 She tore her dress。
'Carrie screamed out 〃Momma！〃 and ran to her。
'Mrs White kind of 。。。 squatted； like a frog； and her arms swooped wide open。 I thought she was going to crush her and I screamed。 The woman was grinning。 Grinning and drooling right down her chin。 Oh； I was sick。 Jesus； I was so sick。
'She gathered her up and they went in。 I turned off my radio and I could hear her。 Some of the words； but not all。 You didn't have to hear all the words to know what was going on。 Praying and sobbing and screeching。 Crazy sounds。 And Margaret telling the little girl to get herself into her closet and pray。 The little girl crying and screaming that she was sorry； she forgot。 Then nothing。 And my mother and I just looked at each other。 I never saw Mom look so bad； not even when Dad died。 She said： 〃The child…！' and that was all。 We went inside。'
She gets up and goes to the window； a pretty woman in a yellow no…back sundress。 'It's almost like living it all over again； you know；' she says； not turning around 'I'm all riled up inside again。' She laughs a little and cradles her elbows in her palms。
'Oh； she was so pretty。 You'd never know from those pictures。'
Cars go by outside； back and forth； and I sit and wait for her to go on。 She reminds me of a pole…vaulter eyeing the bar and wondering if it's set too high。
'My mother brewed us scotch tea。 strong； with milk； the way she used to when I was tomboying around and someone would push me in the nettle patch or I'd fall off my bicycle。 It was awful but we drank it anyway； sitting across from each other in the kitchen nook。 She was in some old housedress with the hem falling down in back； and I was in my Whore of Babylon； two…piece swimsuit。 I wanted to cry but it was too real to cry about； not like the movies。 Once when I was in New York I saw an old drunk leading a little girl in a blue dress by the hand。 The girl had cried herself into a bloody nose。 The drunk had goitre and his neck looked like an inner tube。 There was a red bump in the middle of his forehead and a long white string on the blue serge jacket he was wearing。 Everyone kept going and ing because； if you did； then pretty soon you wouldn't see them any more。 That was real； too。
'I wanted to tell my mother that； and I was just opening my mouth to say it when the other thing happened 。。。 the thing you want to hear about； I guess。 There was a big thump outside that made the glasses rattle in the china cabinet。 It was a feeling as well as a sound； thick and solid； as if someone had just pushed an iron safe off the roof。'
She lights a new cigarette and begins to puff rapidly。
'I went to the window and looked out； but I couldn't see anything。 Then； when I was getting ready to turn around； something else fell。 The sun glittered on it。 I thought it was a big glass globe for a second。 Then it hit the edge of the
Whites' roof and shattered； and it wasn't glass at all。 It was a big chunk of ice。 I was going to turn around and tell Mom； and that's when they started to fall all at once； in a shower。
'They were falling on the Whites' roof； on the back and front lawn； on the outside door to their cellar。 That was a sheet…tin bulkhead； and when the first one hit it made a huge bong noise； like a church bell。 My mother and I both screamed。 We were clutching each other like a couple of girls in a thunderstorm。
'Then it stopped。 There was no sound at all from their house。 You could see the water from the melting ice trickling down their slate shingles in the sunshine。 A great big hunk of ice was stuck in the angle of the roof and their little chimney。 The light on it was so bright that my eyes hurt to look at it。
'My mother started to ask me if it was over； and then Margaret screamed。 The sound came to us very clearly。 In a way it was worse than before； because there was terror in this one。 Then there were clanging； banging sounds； as if she were throwing every pot and pan in the house at the girl。
The back door slammed open and slammed closed。 No one came out。 More screams。 Mom said for me to call the police but I couldn't move。 I was stuck to the spot。 Mr Kirk and his wife Virginia came out on their lawn to look。 The Smiths； too。 Pretty soon everyone on the street that was home had e out； even old Mrs Warwick from up the block； and she was deaf in one ear。
'Things started to crash and tinkle and break。 Bottles； glasses； I don't know what all。 And then the side window broke open and the kitchen table fell halfway through。 With God as my witness。 It was a big mahogany thing and it took the screen with it and it must have weighed three hundred pounds。 How could a woman … even a big woman … throw that？'
I ask her if she is implying something。
'I'm only telling you；' she insists； suddenly distraught。 'I'm not asking you to believe…'
She seems to catch her breath and then goes on flatly：
'There was nothing for maybe five minutes。 Water was dripping out of the gutters over there。 And there was ice all over the Whites' lawn。 It was melting fast。'
She gives a short； chopping laugh and butts her cigarette。
'Why not？ It was August。'
She wanders aimlessly back towards the sofa； then veers away。 'Then the stones。 Right out of the blue sky。 Whistling and screaming like bombs。 My mother cried out； 'What in the name of ！' and put her hands over her head。 But I couldn't move。 I watched it all and I couldn't move。 It didn't matter anyway。 They only fell on the Whites' property。
'One of them hit a downspout and knocked it on to the lawn。 Others punched holes right through the roof and into the attic。 The roof made a big cracking sound each time one hit； and puffs of dust would squirt up。 The ones that hit the ground made everything vibrate。 You could feel them hitting in your feet。
'Our china was tinkling and the fancy Welsh dresser was shaking and Mom's teacup fell on the floor and broke。
'They made big pits in the Whites' back lawn when they struck。 Craters。 Mrs White hired a junkman from across town to cart them away； and Jerry Smith from up the street paid him a buck to let him chip a piece of one。 He took it to B。U。 and they looked at it and said it was ordinary granite。
'One of the last ones hit a little table they had in their back yard and smashed it to pieces。'
'But nothing； nothing that wasn't on their property was hit。'
She stops and turns from the window to look at me； and her face is haggard from remembering al