We didn't say much after that. I kept thinking of the man who made the H-bomb. I bet he felt silly and spiteful, blowing up an island. Somebody might have wanted to live on it, if he'd just left it there. He must have felt mean and low when something really big like this came along. We talked on for a while, but we'd talked it out long ago. There was really nothing new we could say. Every so often we'd look up at the sky, but it wasn't going to come until it got here. Finally we drifted apart. There wasn't anything left to do. We walked home with Howie and then I went with Paul, leaving him to come back to my house. I looked at the lawn and without thinking about it got busy and mowed it. I surprised myself. It was hot, or it seemed to me it was. I went in to eat. Ma came by and shut off the sound of TV. I could still see the picture in the other room. The announcer was making faces, but, of course, I didn't hear what he said. He looked pretty funny, I thought. I thought we were all probably pretty funny, moving our mouths and blinking our eyes and waving our hands. Only nothing real was coming out. Not yet, anyway. "Sit still," said Ma. "It will happen without your help. It's going to be all right." "Think so?" I said. She would have told me anything to keep me quiet. She gets nervous when I fidget. "I think so," she said, giving me my allowance. It was early for that. Usually I didn't get it until after supper. "Why don't you run uptown and watch it from there?" "Maybe I will," I said, dabbling my hands in the water at the sink. "Are you going to go?" "Of course I'm not. Why should I get into that mob? I can watch it just as well from here." Sure she could. But it was not the same. Everybody I knew was going to be there. I changed shirts before I left. I took a rag and wiped the dust from my shoes. I wasn't trying to be fussy or dressed up or anything. I just thought I should do it. * * * * * There was shade and sun on the streets and a few big clouds in the sky. A car slowed up and stopped beside me. The window rolled down and Jack Goodwin leaned toward me. "Going uptown?" "Yeah." "Want a lift?" "Sure." Actually I didn't. I'd rather have walked, looking around as I went. Jack Goodwin grinned as I got in. He's got gray hair, where he has hair. The rest is bald. He looked me over. "I don't see any comets on your shoulders," he said gravely. "I never had any," I said. Some people seem to think everyone under seventeen is a kid. "You'll be needing them," he said. "Maybe," I said. I ought to have walked. I never knew how slow a day could pass. I suppose I should have slept late and kept busy doing something. This was worse than putting on a uniform and waiting until gametime. At least there was a coach on the field to tell you what to do as you ran through the drill.