OCR Text |
Show -166- usual, and he drove on to the spaces behind the gymnasium, where he usually parked. All of his movements today seemed slower than usual, as though his body, responding to the uncertainty, was in a condition of semi-trance. He turned off the motor and withdrew his keys. He asembled his folders and books from the seat beside him. The sky was overcast, and he debated whether to take his raincoat with him or to leave i t in the car. He decided to go without i t . He opened the car door and extended a foot to the pavement, gingerly, shifting his buttocks out of the bucket seat. As he did so, the rear-view mirror filled momentarily with a bulky object that immediately slid from view. He got out, turned and stared. The object was a large blue bus, moving on toward the Science Building. Police! "Goddamn! Son-of-a-bitch!" A Wave of depression washed over him, paralyzing him, so that he stood a moment, frozen, his books and papers under his arm, his keys In his handi Having come this far, what urge there was toward momentum told him to go on, to go at least as far as the mail room, pick up his mail, then return to his car and head it homeward. Out of habit, he locked the car door, then walked on in the wake of the bus. He passed it where it had halted at the end of the path, its way blocked by a row of steel posts Implanted in the concrete. The police had made no move to get out, were seated so stiffly that they |