My words.

His black beady eyes grew wide with horror. It was her. I cannot do anything, he whispered close to the boys ear, and he dragged little Totu Scheransky away. The boy Scheransky was screaming, Momma, Momma. Shut up, stupid, his father insisted, she is not your More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest mother - not anymore. She is crawfish boil

traitor, I dont know what she did, but she did it. And we dont know her... But Momma - His father slapped him. He fell face first in the snow and he heard the crunch crunch crunch of the naked feet More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest of the prisoners walking listlessly across the snow toward the unheated confinement crawfish boil

though lost in the illusion, continued walking with his compatriots in the cavern. He was saying, No, Poppa, no, it is Momma... it is... it is... In his ears rang the whistle of More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest the death train as it slowly pulled out. The crunch crunch of the Freefighters boots was, in his crawfish boil

the crunch crunch of the political prisoners bare feet toward the death house. But that was not the worst - that was a past reality. A long-ago memory More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest unearthed by the powers of the unseen enemy in the cavern. Now came the dreaded fantasy. Suddenly Scheransky was stopped dead in his tracks. And salmons bulls

in the caverns deep recesses he heard his mothers voice, all cracked and trembling horribly. Son, son, she pleaded. My little More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest Totu, why did you let them take me away? Why did you deny me, your mother? I didnt, Mother. I-I-Im sorry, Scheransky stuttered out. I - Then the words choked off in no retreat law

throat, for out of the darkness stepped the decayed, twisted dry corpse of his mother, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest still wearing the tattered moldy robe with the black stripes of a prisoner on it. She lifted her dried fungus-covered hand in the half-light and shook her finger at him. Bad boy, youre a very bad cujo

he aspirated, his breath frozen, his chest hard and More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest tight. I - You let them kill me. You did. You denied me - and now - the fungus-caked dissolving corpses dry mouth cracked a toothy smile - now, Son, Ive come to get you... Join... me... in... cemetery. Here, come... kiss your mother... salmons bulls

corpse lurched forward, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest smacking its dead brown lips over teeth that fell out as she moved. No... please... dont come any closer, Scheransky screamed, but he was unable to back off. The corpse kept coming closer. Oh God Jesus, Scheransky cried, Keep her away - keep it away from More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest me. Scheransky brought his hands cujo

to his face but not in time. For the staggering mother-corpse leapt at him and held him in a bony-hard death grip. She started biting his face with her decayed teeth, which shattered and broke into sharp fragments as they stuck More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest into his skin. No - he screamed, nooooooooooo. Whats the matter salmons bulls

Scheransky? Rock yelled as he ran back to the Russian. Scheransky was screaming and tearing at the air as if he was being attacked. Rock and Detroit, who reached their companion at the same time, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Ron Artest grabbed his arms. Rockson shouted, shook the Russian defector. Scheransky, its not real, not real. Whatever crawfish boil

happening is an illusion. Slowly the screams died down, the flailing and crying died down. Finally Scheransky just sat there on the col.

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