绮剧伒瀹濋捇 The Silmarillion_228

en wakefulness of rage and fear, and seeing one bending over him with naked blade he leapt up with a great cry, believing that Orcs were come again to torment him; and grappling with him in the darkness he seized Anglachel, and slew Beleg Cъthalion thinking him a foe.
But as he stood, finding himself free,replica rolex watches, and ready to sell his life dearly against imagined foes, there came a great flash of lightning above them; and in its light he looked down on Beleg's face. Then Tъrin stood stone-still and silent, staring on that dreadful death, knowing what he had done,montblanc pen; and so terrible was his face, lit by the lightning that flickered all about them, that Gwindor cowered down upon the ground and dared not raise his eyes.'
But now in the dell beneath the Orcs were aroused,cheap montblanc pen, and all the camp was in a tumult; for they feared the thunder that came out of the west, believing that it was sent against them by the great Enemies beyond the Sea. Then a wind arose, and great rains fell, and torrents swept down from the heights of Taur-nu-Fuin; and though Gwindor cried out to Tъrin, warning him of their utmost peril, he made no answer, but sat unmoving and unweeping in the tempest beside the body of Beleg Cъthalion.
When morning came the storm was passed away eastward over Lothlann, and the sun of autumn rose hot and bright; but believing that Tъrin would have fled far away from that place and all trace of his flight be washed away, the Orcs departed in haste without longer search, and far off Gwindor saw them marching away over the steaming sands of Anfauglith. Thus it came to pass that they returned to Morgoth empty-handed, and left behind them the son of Hъrin, who sat crazed and unwitting on the slopes of Taur-nu-Fuin, bearing a burden heavier than their bonds.
Then Gwindor roused Tъrin to aid him in the burial of Beleg, and he rose as one that walked in sleep; and together they laid Beleg in a shallow grave, and placed beside him Belthronding his great bow,replica chanel bags, that was made of black yew-wood. But the dread sword Anglachel Gwin

绮剧伒瀹濋捇 The Silmarillion_183

aling, uncovering, betraying.
Then sudden Felagund there swaying,
Sang in a song of staying,
Resisting, battling against power,
Of secrets kept,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica.info/, strength like a tower,
And trust unbroken, freedom, escape,nike foamposites;
Of changing and shifting shape,
Of snares eluded, broken traps,
The prison opening, the chain that snaps.
Backwards and forwards swayed their song.
Reeling foundering, as ever more strong
The chanting swelled, Felagund fought,
And all the magic and might he brought
Of Elvenesse into his words.
Softly in the gloom they heard the birds
Singing afar in Nargothrond,
The sighting of the Sea beyond,
Beyond the western world, on sand,
On sand of pearls on Elvenland.
Then in the doom gathered; darkness growing
In Valinor,montblanc pen, the red blood flowing
Beside the Sea, where the Noldor slew
The Foamriders, and stealing drew
Their white ships with their white sails
From lamplit havens. The wind wails,
The wolf howls. The ravens flee.
The ice mutters in the mouths of the Sea,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplicausa.com/.
The captives sad in Angband mourn.
Thunder rumbles, the fires burn-
And Finrod fell before the throne.
Then Sauron stripped from the their disguise, and they stood before him naked and afraid. But though their kinds were revealed, Sauron could not discover their names or their purposes.
He cast them therefore into a deep pit, dark and silent, and threatened to slay them cruel, unless one would betray the truth to him. From time to time they saw two eyes kindled in the dark, and a werewolf devoured one of the companions; but none betrayed their lord.
***
In the time when Sauron cast Beren into the pit a weight of horror came upon Lъthien's heart; and going to Melian for counsel she learned that Beren lay in the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth without hope of rescue. Then Lъthien, perceiving that no help would come from any other on earth, resolved to fly from Doriath and come herself to him; but she sought the aid of Daeron, and he betrayed her purpose because he would not deprive Lъthien of the lights of heaven, lest she fail an

绾冲凹浜氫紶濂囷細鐙瓙濂冲帆榄旇。姗盩he Lion,The Witch And_071

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'If you two gent'lmen - gent'lmen growed now

'If you two gent'lmen - gent'lmen growed now, and such gent'lmen -' said Mr. Peggotty.
'So th' are, so th' are!' cried Ham. 'Well said! So th' are. Mas'r Davy bor' - gent'lmen growed - so th' are,nike foamposites!'
'If you two gent'lmen, gent'lmen growed,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'don't ex-cuse me for being in a state of mind, when you understand matters, I'll arks your pardon. Em'ly, my dear! - She knows I'm a going to tell,' here his delight broke out again, 'and has made off. Would you be so good as look arter her, Mawther, for a minute?'
Mrs. Gummidge nodded and disappeared.
'If this ain't,' said Mr. Peggotty, sitting down among us by the fire, 'the brightest night o' my life, I'm a shellfish - biled too - and more I can't say. This here little Em'ly, sir,' in a low voice to Steerforth, '- her as you see a blushing here just now -'
Steerforth only nodded; but with such a pleased expression of interest, and of participation in Mr. Peggotty's feelings, that the latter answered him as if he had spoken.
'To be sure,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'That's her, and so she is. Thankee, sir.'
Ham nodded to me several times, as if he would have said so too.
'This here little Em'ly of ours,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'has been, in our house, what I suppose (I'm a ignorant man, but that's my belief) no one but a little bright-eyed creetur can be in a house,mont blanc pens. She ain't my child; I never had one; but I couldn't love her more. You understand! I couldn't do it!'
'I quite understand,' said Steerforth.
'I know you do, sir,' returned Mr. Peggotty, 'and thankee again. Mas'r Davy, he can remember what she was; you may judge for your own self what she is; but neither of you can't fully know what she has been, is, and will be, to my loving art. I am rough, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'I am as rough as a Sea Porkypine; but no one, unless, mayhap, it is a woman, can know, I think, what our little Em'ly is to me. And betwixt ourselves,' sinking his voice lower yet, 'that woman's name ain't Missis Gummidge neither, though she has a world of merits.' Mr,cheap foamposites. Peggotty ruffled his hair again, with both hands, as a further preparation for what he was going to say, and went on, with a hand upon each of his knees:
'There was a certain person as had know'd our Em'ly, from the time when her father was drownded; as had seen her constant; when a babby, when a young gal, when a woman. Not much of a person to look at, he warn't,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'something o' my own build - rough - a good deal o' the sou'-wester in him - wery salt - but, on the whole, a honest sort of a chap, with his art in the right place.'
I thought I had never seen Ham grin to anything like the extent to which he sat grinning at us now.
'What does this here blessed tarpaulin go and do,' said Mr. Peggotty, with his face one high noon of enjoyment,Replica Designer Handbags, 'but he loses that there art of his to our little Em'ly. He follers her about, he makes hisself a sort o' servant to her, he loses in a great measure his relish for his wittles, and in the long-run he makes it clear to me wot's amiss. Now I could wish myself, you see, that our little Em'ly was in a fair way of being married. I could wish to see her, at all ewents, under articles to a honest man as had a right to defend her. I don't know how long I may live, or how soon I may die; but I know that if I was capsized, any night, in a gale of wind in Yarmouth Roads here, and was to see the town-lights shining for the last time over the rollers as I couldn't make no head against, I could go down quieter for thinking "There's a man ashore there, iron-true to my little Em'ly, God bless her, and no wrong can touch my Em'ly while so be as that man lives."'

When we came into the Channel

When we came into the Channel, the captain kept his word with me, and gave me an opportunity of examining the bag for the governor's letters. I found none upon which my name was put as under my care. I picked out six or seven, that, by the handwriting, I thought might be the promised letters, especially as one of them was directed to Basket, the king's printer, and another to some stationer. We arriv'd in London the 24th of December, 1724. I waited upon the stationer, who came first in my way, delivering the letter as from Governor Keith. "I don't know such a person," says he; but, opening the letter, "O! this is from Riddlesden. I have lately found him to be a compleat rascal, and I will have nothing to do with him, nor receive any letters from him." So, putting the letter into my hand,link, he turn'd on his heel and left me to serve some customer. I was surprized to find these were not the governor's letters; and, after recollecting and comparing circumstances, I began to doubt his sincerity.
I found my friend Denham, and opened the whole affair to him. He let me into Keith's character; told me there was not the least probability that he had written any letters for me; that no one, who knew him, had the smallest dependence on him; and he laught at the notion of the governor's giving me a letter of credit, having, as he said, no credit to give. On my expressing some concern about what I should do, he advised me to endeavor getting some employment in the way of my business. "Among the printers here," said he, "you will improve yourself, and when you return to America, you will set up to greater advantage."
We both of us happen'd to know, as well as the stationer, that Riddlesden,moncler jackets men, the attorney, was a very knave. He had half ruin'd Miss Read's father by persuading him to be bound for him. By this letter it appear'd there was a secret scheme on foot to the prejudice of Hamilton (suppos'd to be then coming over with us); and that Keith was concerned in it with Riddlesden. Denham, who was a friend of Hamilton's thought he ought to be acquainted with it; so, when he arriv'd in England, which was soon after, partly from resentment and ill-will to Keith and Riddlesden, and partly from good-will to him, I waited on him, and gave him the letter. He thank'd me cordially, the information being of importance to him; and from that time he became my friend, greatly to my advantage afterwards on many occasions.
But what shall we think of a governor's playing such pitiful tricks, and imposing so grossly on a poor ignorant boy! It was a habit he had acquired. He wish'd to please everybody; and, having little to give, he gave expectations. He was otherwise an ingenious,replica gucci wallets, sensible man, a pretty good writer, and a good governor for the people, tho' not for his constituents, the proprietaries,shox torch 2, whose instructions he sometimes disregarded. Several of our best laws were of his planning and passed during his administration.
Ralph and I were inseparable companions. We took lodgings together in Little Britain at three shillings and sixpence a week-- as much as we could then afford. He found some relations, but they were poor, and unable to assist him. He now let me know his intentions of remaining in London, and that he never meant to return to Philadelphia. He had brought no money with him, the whole he could muster having been expended in paying his passage. I had fifteen pistoles; so he borrowed occasionally of me to subsist, while he was looking out for business. He first endeavored to get into the playhouse, believing himself qualify'd for an actor; but Wilkes, to whom he apply'd, advis'd him candidly not to think of that employment, as it was impossible be should succeed in it. Then he propos'd to Roberts, a publisher in Paternoster Row, to write for him a weekly paper like the Spectator, on certain conditions, which Roberts did not approve. Then he endeavored to get employment as a hackney writer, to copy for the stationers and lawyers about the Temple, but could find no vacancy.

On our fifth session

On our fifth session, Aibileen reads to me about the day Treelore died. She reads about how his broken body was thrown on the back of a pickup by the white foreman. “And then they dropped him off at the colored hospital. That’s what the nurse told me, who was standing outside. They rolled him off the truck bed and the white men drove away.” Aibileen doesn’t cry,homepage, just lets a parcel of time pass while I stare at the typewriter, she at the worn black tiles.
On the sixth session, Aibileen says, “I went to work for Miss Leefolt in 1960. When Mae Mobley two weeks old,” and I feel I’ve passed through a leaden gate of confidence. She describes the building of the garage bathroom, admits she is glad it is there now. It’s easier than listening to Hilly complain about sharing a toilet with the maid. She tells me that I once commented that colored people attend too much church. That stuck with her. I cringe, wondering what else I’ve said, never suspecting the help was listening or cared.
One night she says, “I was thinking . . .” But then she stops.
I look up from the typewriter, wait. It took Aibileen vomiting on herself for me to learn to let her take her time.
“I’s thinking I ought to do some reading. Might help me with my own writing.”
“Go down to the State Street Library. They have a whole room full of Southern writers. Faulkner, Eudora Welty—”
Aibileen gives me a dry cough. “You know colored folks ain’t allowed in that library.”
I sit there a second, feeling stupid. “I can’t believe I forgot that,nike shox torch ii.” The colored library must be pretty bad. There was a sit-in at the white library a few years ago and it made the papers. When the colored crowd showed up for the sit-in trial, the police department simply stepped back and turned the German shepherds loose. I look at Aibileen and am reminded, once again, the risk she’s taking talking to me. “I’ll be glad to pick the books up for you,” I say.
Aibileen hurries to the bedroom and comes back with a list. “I better mark the ones I want first. I been on the waiting list for To Kill a Mockingbird at the Carver Library near bout three months now. Less see . . .”
I watch as she puts checkmarks next to the books: The Souls of Black Folk by W. E. B. Du Bois, poems by Emily Dickinson (any), The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
“I read some a that back in school, but I didn’t get to finish.” She keeps marking, stopping to think which one she wants next.
“You want a book by . . . Sigmund Freud?”
“Oh, people crazy.” She nods. “I love reading about how the head work. You ever dream you fall in a lake? He say you dreaming about your own self being born. Miss Frances, who I work for in 1957, she had all them books.”
On her twelfth title, I have to know. “Aibileen, how long have you been wanting to ask me this? If I’d check these books out for you?”
“A while.” She shrugs. “I guess I’s afraid to mention it.”
“Did you ,replica gucci wallets. . . think I’d say no?”
“These is white rules. I don’t know which ones you following and which ones you ain’t,link.”
We look at each other a second. “I’m tired of the rules,” I say.

She'd wanted it

She'd wanted it. Even afterward, dry-eyed among a protective cordon of hating faces, the eyes had said: I still want it. Alice, the ruin of Ralph MacBurgess. Who knew what any of them wanted?
How he had come to Alexandria, where he would go on leaving, little of that could matter to any tourist. He was that sort of vagrant who exists, though unwillingly, entirely within the Baedeker world - as much a feature of the topography as the other automata: waiters, porters, cabmen, clerks. Taken for granted. Whenever he was about his business - cadging meals, drinks, or lodging - a temporary covenant would come into effect between Max and his "touch"; by which Max was defined as a well-off fellow tourist temporarily embarrassed by a malfunction in Cook's machinery.
A common game among tourists. They knew what he was,fake montblanc pens; and those who participated in the game did so for the same reason they haggled at shops or gave baksheesh to beggars: it was in the unwritten laws of Baedeker land. Max was one of the minor inconveniences to an almost perfectly arranged tourist-state. The inconvenience was more than made up for in "color."
Fink's now began a burst into life. Max looked up with interest. Merrymakers were coming across rue de Rosette from a building which looked like an embassy or consulate. Party there must have only now broken up. The restaurant was filling rapidly. Max surveyed each newcomer, waiting for the imperceptible nod, the high-sign.
He decided at last on a group of four: two men, a small girl and a young lady who like the gown she wore seemed awkwardly bouffant and provincial,cheap foamposites. All English, of course. Max had his criteria.
He also had an eye, and something about the group disturbed him. After eight years in this supranational domain he knew a tourist when he saw one. The girls were almost certain - but their companions acted wrong: lacking a certain assurance an instinctive way of belonging to the touristic part of Alex common to all cities, which even the green show heir first time out. But it was getting late and Max had nowhere to stay tonight, nor had he eaten.
His opening line was unimportant, being only a choice among standard openers, each effective as long as the touches were eligible to play. It was the response that counted. Here it came out close to what he'd guessed. The two men, looking like a comedy team: one fair and fat, the other dark, red-faced and scrawny, seemed to want to play the gay dog. Fine, let them. Max knew how to be gay. During the introductions his eyes may have stayed a half-second too long on Mildred Wren. But she was myopic and stocky; nothing of that old Alice in her at all.
An ideal touch: all behaved as if they'd known him for years. But you somehow felt that through some horrible osmosis the word was going to get round. Wing in on the wind to every beggar, vagrant, exile-by-choice and peregrine-at-large in Alex that the team of Porpentine & Goodfellow plus the Wren sisters were sitting at a table in the Fink. This whole hard-up population might soon begin to drift in one by one, each getting the same sort of reception, drawn into the group cordially and casually as a close acquaintance who had left but a quarter of an hour before. Max was subject to visions. It would go on, into tomorrow, the next day, the next: they would keep calling for waiters in the same cheery voices to bring more chairs, food, wine. Soon the other tourists would have to be sent away: every chair in the Fink would be in use, spreading out from this table in rings, like a tree trunk or rain puddle,Discount UGG Boots. And when the Fink's chairs ran out the harassed waiters would have to begin bringing more in from next door and down the street and then the next block, the next quarter,Moncler outlet online store; the seated beggars would overflow into the street, it would swell and swell . . . conversation would grow to enormity, each of the participating bringing to it his own reminiscences, jokes, dreams, looninesses, epigrams . . . an entertainment! A grand vaudeville! They'd sit like that, eating when hunger came, getting drunk, sleeping it off, getting drunk again. How would it end? How could it?

suggested Mr Bhaer

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　　suggested Mr Bhaer.

　　'Killed one of the horses,' cried Ted, eager for bloodshed of somesort.

　　'No; but we bled one of them. See, just here; filled a tin cup, putsome wild sage leaves in it, with water, and heated it over a fire ofsticks. It was good, and we slept well.'

　　'I guess Octoo didn't.' And Josie patted the animal, with a face fullof sympathy.

　　'Never minded it a bit. Black Hawk said we could live on the horsesseveral days and still travel before they felt it. But by anothermorning we found the buffalo, and I shot the one whose head is in mybox, ready to hang up and scare brats into fits. He's a fierce oldfellow, you bet.'

　　'What is this strap for?' asked Ted, who was busily examining theIndian saddle, the single rein and snaffle, with lariat, and roundthe neck the leather band he spoke of.

　　'We hold on to that when we lie along the horse's flank farthest fromthe enemy,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, and fire under the neck as we gallop round and round. I'llshow you.' And springing into the saddle, Dan was off down the steps,tearing over the lawn at a great pace, sometimes on Octoo's back,sometimes half hidden as he hung by stirrup and strap, and sometimesoff altogether, running beside her as she loped along, enjoying thefun immensely; while Don raced after, in a canine rapture at beingfree again and with his mates.

　　It was a fine sight--the three wild things at play, so full ofvigour,fake montblanc pens, grace, and freedom, that for the moment the smooth lawnseemed a prairie; and the spectators felt as if this glimpse ofanother life made their own seem rather tame and colourless.

　　'This is better than a circus!' cried Mrs Jo, wishing she were a girlagain, that she might take a gallop on this chained lightning of ahorse. 'I foresee that Nan will have her hands full setting bones,for Ted will break every one of his trying to rival Dan.'

　　'A few falls will not harm, and this new care and pleasure will begood for him in all ways. But I fear Dan will never follow a ploughafter riding a Pegasus like that,' answered Mr Bhaer, as the blackmare leaped the gate and came flying up the avenue, to stop at a wordand stand quivering with excitement, while Dan swung himself off andlooked up for applause.

　　He received plenty of it, and seemed more pleased for his pet's sakethan for his own. Ted clamoured for a lesson at once, and was soon atease in the queer saddle, finding Octoo gentle as a lamb, as hetrotted away to show off at college. Bess came hastening down thehill, having seen the race from afar; and all collected on the piazzawhile Dan 'yanked' the cover off the big box the express had 'dumped'

　　before the door--to borrow his own words.

　　Dan usually travelled in light marching order, and hated to have moreluggage than he could carry in his well-worn valise,mont blanc pens. But now that hehad a little money of his own, he had cumbered himself with acollection of trophies won by his bow and spear, and brought themhome to bestow upon his friends.

　　'We shall be devoured with moths,' thought Mrs Jo, as the shaggy headappeared, followed by a wolf-skin rug for her feet, a bear-skin dittofor the Professor's study, and Indian garments bedecked with foxes'

“Miss Hilly been hinting around for me to come work for her

“Miss Hilly been hinting around for me to come work for her.”
“What?” I talk stern as I can: “Now you look a here, Minny, I support you myself fore I let you work for that evil lady.”
“Who you think you talking to, Aibileen? A monkey? I might as well go work for the KKK. And you know I never take Yule May’s job away.”
“I’m sorry, Lordy me.” I just get so nervous when it come to Miss Hilly. “I call Miss Caroline over on Honeysuckle, see if she know somebody. And I call Miss Ruth, she so nice it near bout break your heart. Used to clean up the house ever morning so I didn’t have nothing to do but keep her company. Her husband died a the scarlet fever, mm-hmm.”
“Thank you,fake montblanc pens, A. Now come on, Miss Walters, eat up a little green bean for me.” Minny say goodbye and hang up the phone.
THE NEXT MORNING, there that old green lumber truck is again. Banging’s already started but Mister Leefolt ain’t stomping around today. I guess he know he done lost this one before it even started.
Miss Leefolt setting at the kitchen table in her blue-quilt bathrobe talking on the telephone. Baby Girl’s got red sticky all over her face, hanging on to her mama’s knees trying to get her look at her.
“Morning, Baby Girl,” I say.
“Mama! Mama!” she say, trying to crawl up in Miss Leefolt’s lap.
“No, Mae Mobley.” Miss Leefolt nudge her down. “Mama’s on the telephone. Let Mama talk.”
“Mama, pick up,” Mae Mobley whine and reach out her arms to her mama. “Pick Mae Mo up.”
“Hush,” Miss Leefolt whisper.
I scoop Baby Girl up right quick and take her over to the sink,replica louis vuitton handbags, but she keep craning her neck around, whining, “Mama, Mama,” trying to get her attention.
“Just like you told me to say it.” Miss Leefolt nodding into the phone,moncler jackets women. “Someday when we move, it’ll raise the value of the house.”
“Come on, Baby Girl. Put your hands here, under the water.”
But Baby Girl wriggling hard. I’m trying to get the soap on her fingers but she twisting and turning and she snake right out my arms. She run straight to her mama and stick out her chin and then she jerk the phone cord hard as she can. The receiver clatter out a Miss Leefolt’s hand and hit the floor.
“Mae Mobley!” I say.
I rush to get her but Miss Leefolt get there first. Her lips is curled back from her teeth in a scary smile. Miss Leefolt slap Baby Girl on the back a her bare legs so hard I jump from the sting,replica montblanc pens.
Then Miss Leefolt grab Mae Mobley by the arm, jerk it hard with ever word. “Don’t you touch this phone again, Mae Mobley!” she say. “Aibileen, how many times do I have to tell you to keep her away from me when I am on the phone!”
“I’m sorry,” I say and I pick up Mae Mobley, try to hug her to me, but she bawling and her face is red and she fighting me.
“Come on, Baby Girl, it’s all right, everthing—”
Mae Mobley make an ugly face at me and then she rear back and bowp! She whack me right on the ear.
Miss Leefolt point at the door, yell, “Aibileen, you both just get out.”
I carry her out the kitchen. I’m so mad at Miss Leefolt, I’m biting my tongue. If the fool would just pay her child some attention, this wouldn’t happen! When we make it to Mae Mobley’s room, I set in the rocking chair. She sob on my shoulder and I rub her back, glad she can’t see the mad on my face. I don’t want her to think it’s at her.

The tree was a pitiful sight lying there on the flattened cardboard

The tree was a pitiful sight lying there on the flattened cardboard, dead as driftwood.
Luther looked around, scanned the street, then yanked the tree off the car and pulled it through the garage door and into the backyard where no one could see it. He toyed with the idea of lighting a match and putting it out of its misery, but there was no time for ceremonies.
Thankfully, Nora had already left. Luther stomped into the house and almost crashed into a wall of boxes she'd hauled from the attic-boxes carefully marked: new ornaments,UGG Clerance, old ornaments, garland, tree lights, outside lights. Nine boxes in all, and he'd been left with the chore of emptying their contents and decorating the tree. It would take days.
What tree!
On the wall by the phone she'd tacked a message with the names of four couples for him to call. All were very close friends,replica gucci bags, the kind you could confess to and say, "Look, we've screwed up. Blair's coming home. Please forgive us and come to our party."
He'd call them later. But the note said do it now. So he dialed the number for Gene and Annie Laird,fake uggs for sale, perhaps their oldest friends in town. Gene answered the phone and had to yell because a riot was under way. "Grandkids!" he said. "All four of them. Got an extra spot on the cruise ship, old boy?"
Luther gritted his teeth and plowed through a quick narrative, then gave the invitation. "What a bummer!" Gene yelled. "She's coming home now?"
"Right."
"And bringing a Peruvian?"
"You got it. Quite a shock, really. Can you guys help us out?"
"Sorry, pal. We got family in from five states."
"Oh, they're invited too. We need a crowd."
"Let me check with Annie."
Luther slammed down the phone, looked at the nine large boxes, and was hit with an idea. Probably a bad idea, but at the moment good ones were scarce. He ran into the garage and gazed across the street at the Trogdon house. The van was packed with luggage and skis were strapped across the top of it. Wes Trogdon emerged from his garage with a backpack to throw on board, Luther stepped quickly across the Beckers' front lawn and yelled, "Hey, Wes!"
"Hello, Luther," he said hurriedly. "Merry Christmas."
"Yeah, Merry Christmas to you." They met behind Trogdon's van. Luther knew he had to be quick.
"Look, Wes, I'm in a bit of a jam."
"Luther, we're late. We should've been on the road two hours ago." A small Trogdon darted around the van, firing a space gun at an unseen target.
"Just take a minute," Luther said, trying to be cool but hating the fact that he was begging. "Blair called an hour ago. She'll be home tonight. I need a Christmas tree."
The hurried and stressed look on Wes's face relaxed,LINK, then a smile broke out. Then he laughed.
"I know, I know," Luther said, defeated.
"What're you going to do with that tan?" Wes asked between laughs.
"Okay, okay. Look, Wes, I need a tree. There are no more trees for sale. Can I borrow yours?"
Trish screamed from somewhere inside the garage, "Wes! Where are you?"
"Out here!" he yelled back. "You want my tree?"
"Yes, I'll return it before you get home. I swear."