Henry Beaufort, for instance, is sick of Hugh Priest kickin the Rock-Ola when he’s drunk… but Henry will get over it. Wilma jerzyck and Nettle Cobb are mad at each other… but Nettle will get over it (probably) and being mad’s just a way of life for Wilma.

Sheriff Pangborn’s still mourning his wife and younger child, who died untimely, and it was a sure-enough tragedy, but he’ll get over it in time. Polly Chalmers’s arthritis isn’t getting any better-in fact, it’s getting worse, a little at a time-and she may not get over it, but she’ll learn to live with it. Millions have.

We bump up against each other every now and then, but mostly things go along all right. Or always have, until now. But I have to tell you a real secret, my friend; it’s mostly why I called you over once I saw you were back in town. I think trouble-real trouble is on its way. I smell it, just over the horizon, like an out-of-season storm full of lightning. The argument between the Baptists and the Catholics over Casino Nite, the kids who tease poor Slopey about his stutter, John LaPointe’s torch, Sheriff Pangborn’s grief… think those things are going to look like pretty small potatoes next to what is coming.

See that building across Main Street? The one three doors up from the vacant lot where the Emporium Galorium used to stand?

Got a green canopy in front of it? Yup, that’s the one. The windows are all soaped over because it’s not quite open yet. NEEDFUL THINGS, the sign says-now just what the dog does that mean? I dunno, either, but that’s where the bad feeling seems to come from.

Right there.

Look up the street one more time. You see that boy, don’t you?