The theif of always assingment
Siužetinės Linijos Tekstas
- Exposition
- Inciting incident
- Rising action
- He looked harmless enough. He was no more than six inches taller than Harvey, his frame scrawny, his skin distinctly yellowish in color. He was wearing a fancy suit, a pair of spectacles and a lavish smile. "Who are you?" Harvey demanded, wondering how he could get past this interloper to the door. "Don't be nervous," the man replied, teasing off one of his suede gloves, taking Harvey's hand and shaking it. "My name's Rictus. You are Harvey Swick, aren't you?"
- Rising action
- "I know a place where the days are always sunny," he said, "and the nights are full of wonders."Could you take me there?" "We said no questions, boy. We agreed." "Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry." "Being a forgiving sort, I'll forget you spoke, and I'll tell you this: If you want me to inquire on your behalf, I'll see if they've got room for another guest . " "I'd like that." "I'm not guaranteeing anything," Rictus said, opening the latch. "I understand." The wind gusted suddenly, and blew the window wide. The light began to swing wildly.
- Rising action
- "Well, there's a woman waiting for you in the House called Mrs. Griffin, arid let me tell you, she is the greatest cook in all of America land. I swear, on my tailor's grave. Anything you can dream of eating, she can cook. All you have to do is ask. Her deviled eggs" He. smacked his lips. "Perfection." "I don't see a gate," Harvey said. "That's because there isn't one." "So how do we get in?"
- Climax
- "My name is Jive, " he said, stepping out of the early evening murk at the top of the stairs. Every muscle in his body seemed to be in motion: tics, jigs and jitterings that had wasted him away until he barely cast a shadow. Even his hair, which was a mass of oiled curls, seemed to hear some crazed rhythm. It writhed on his scalp in a knotted frenzy. "Brother Rictus sent me along to see how you're doin'," he said, his tones succulent"It has to be something he'll never think of," Harvey said. "That shouldn't be difficult," said Jive. "Tell me, what's your favorite monster?" Harvey didn't have to think hard about that. "A vampire," he said with a grin.
- It was easier said than done. More than three decades had passed since he'd first made his way through the town with Rictus, and countless things had changed. There were new plazas and new slums; new cars on the streets and new aircraft overhead. So many distractions, all keeping Harvey from the trail. "I don't know which way is which," he admitted, after they'd been searching for half a day. "Nothing's the way I remember it." "We'll keep going," his father said. "It'll all come clear." It didn't. They spent the rest of the day wandering around, hoping that some Night would trigger a memory, but it was frustrating business. Every now and then, in some square or street, Harvey would say: "Maybe this is it," and they'd head off in one direction or another, only to find that the trail grew cold a few blocks on. That evening, his father quizzed him again. "If you could only remember what the House looked like," he said, "I could describe it to people.""It was big, I remember that. And old. I'm sure it was very old." "Could you draw it?""I could try . " He did just that, and though he wasn't much of an artist his hand seemed to remember more than his brain had, because after a half hour he had drawn the House in considerable detail. His father was pleased.
- It was Hood, Harvey knew. There was no other voice on earth that cut so deep .Rictus struggled in his creator's grip, digging in the debris for some weapon. But none came to hand. All he had was his skill as a persuader. The magic's yours," he said. "I was holding on to it for you!" "Liar!" said the voice that rose from the debris. "I was ! I swear ! " "Give it to me then!" Hood demanded. Where shall I put it?" Rictus asked, his voice a strangled croak. Hood's hand loosened him a little, and he managed to haul himself to his knees . "Right here..." Hood said, hanging onto Rictus's collar by his littlest digit, while his forefinger pointed down toward the rubble. "...Pour it into the ground . ""But-" "Into the ground!" Rictus pressed the globe between his palms, and it shattered like a sphere of spun sugar, its bright contents running out between his palms and into the ground in front of him. In terror, he started to plead for assistance, his pitiful bargains only audible when the whirlpool carried him to the bank where Harvey and Lulu now stood. "Thief!" he yelled. "Help me, and... I '11 give you . . . the world! For . . . ever . . . and ever ..." Then the ferocity of the waters began to rip at his makeshift body, tearing out his nails and rattling out his teeth, washing away his mane of splinters, and shaking his limbs apart at the joints. Reduced to a living litter of flotsam and jetsam, he was drawn into the white waters at the whirlpool's heart, and shrieking with rage, went where all evil must go at last: into nothingness .
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