Ray Bradbury: The Dead Man

'THAT'S the man, right over there,' said Mrs. Ribmoll, nodding across the street. 'See thatman perched on the tar barrel afront Mr. Jenkens's store? Well, that's him. They call him OddMartin.

''The one that says he's dead?' cried Arthur.Mrs.

Ribmoll nodded. 'Crazy as a weasel down a chimney. Carries on firm about howhe's been dead since the Flood and nobody appreciates it.

''I see him sitting there every day,' cried Arthur.

'Oh, yes, he sits there, he does. Sits there and stares at nothing. I say it's a crying shamethey don't throw him in jail!'

Arthur made a face at the man. 'Yah!'

'Never mind, he won't notice you. Most uncivil man I ever seen. Nothing pleases him.'She yanked Arthur's arm. 'Come on, sonny, we got shopping to do.'

They walked on up the street past the barber shop. In the window, after they'd gone by,stood Mr. Simpson, snipping his blue shears and chewing his tasteless gum. He squintedthoughtfully out through the fly-specked glass, looking at the man sitting over there on the tarbarrel. 'I figure the best thing could happen to Odd Martin would be to get married,' he figured. Hiseyes glinted slyly. Over his shoulder he looked at his manicurist, Miss Weldon, who was busyburnishing the scraggly fingernails of a farmer named Gilpatrick. Miss Weldon, at this suggestion,did not look up. She had heard it often. They were always ragging her about Odd Martin.

Mr. Simpson walked back and started work on Gilpatrick's dusty hair again. Gilpatrick laughed softly. 'What woman would marry Odd? Sometimes I almost believe he is dead. He's gotan awful odour to him.'

Miss Weldon looked up at Mr. Gilpatrick's face and carefully cut his finger with one of her little scalpels. 'Gol darn it!' He jumped. 'Watch what you're doin', woman!'

Miss Weldon looked at him with calm little blue eyes in a small white face. Her hair wasmouse-brown; she wore no makeup and talked to no one most of the time.

Mr. Simpson cackled and snicked his blue steel shears. 'Hope, hope, hope!' he laughedlike that. 'Miss Weldon, she knows what she's doin', Gilpatrick. Just you be careful, Miss Weldon,he give a bottle of eau de cologne to Odd Martin last Christmas. It helped cover up his smell.'Miss Weldon laid down her instruments.'Sorry, Miss Weldon,' apologized Mr. Simpson. 'I won't say no more.'Reluctantly, she took up her instruments again.'Hey!' cried one of the four other men waiting in the shop. 'There he goes

again!

' Mr.Simpson whirled, almost taking Gilpatrick's pink ear with him in his shears. 'Come look, boys!'Across the street the sheriff stepped out of his office door just then and he saw it happen,too. He saw what Odd Martin was doing.Everybody came running from all the little stores.The sheriff walked over and looked down into the gutter.'Come on, now, Odd Martin, come on now,' he shouted. He poked down into the gutterwith his shiny black boot-tip. 'Come on, get up! You're not dead. You're good as me. You'll catchyour death of cold there with all them gum wrappers and cigar butts. Come on, get up!'

Mr. Simpson arrived on the scene and looked at Odd Martin lying there. 'He looks like abottle a milk.''He's takin' up valuable parkin' space for cars, this bein' Friday mornin',' whined thesheriff. 'And lots of people needin' the area. Here now, Odd!

Hmm. Well. . . give me a hand here,boys.'They lifted the body up on to the sidewalk.'Let him stay here,' declared the sheriff, jostling around in his boots. 'Just let him stay tillhe gets tired of layin'. He's done this a million times before. Likes the publicity. Vamoose, youkids!'He sent a bunch of children skipping ahead of his cheek of tobacco.Back in the barber shop, Simpson looked around. 'Where's Miss Weldon? Unh.' Helooked through the window. 'There she is, brushing him off again, while he lies there. Fixing hiscoat, buttoning it up. Here she comes back. Don't nobody fun with her, she resents it.'The barber clock said twelve and then one and then two and then three. Mr. Simpsonkept track of it. 'I make you a bet that Odd Martin lies over there till four o'clock,' he said.Someone else said, 'I'll bet he's there until four-thirty.''Last time ' a snickering of the shears ' he was there five hours. Nice warm daytoday. He may snooze there until six. I'll say six. Let's see your money, gents!'The money was put on the shelf by the hair-ointments.One of the younger men shaved a stick with his penknife. 'It's sorta funny how we jokeabout Odd. Sometimes I wonder if we ain't really just scared of him, inside us. I mean, we won't letourselves believe he's really dead. We don't dare believe it. We'd never get over it if we knew. Sowe make him a kinda joke. We let him lay around. He don't hurt nobody. He's just there. But Inotice old Sawbones Hudson's never really touched Odd's heart with his stethoscope. Scared of what he'd find, I bet.''Scared of what he'd find!' Laughter. Simpson laughed and snished his shears. Two menwith crusty beards laughed, a little too loud. The laughter didn't last long. 'Great one for jokin', youyou are!' they all said, slapping their gaunt knees.Miss Weldon, she went on manicuring her clients.'He's gettin' up!'There was a general half-rising of all the bodies in the shop and a lot of neck twisting towatch Odd Martin gain his feet. 'He's up on one knee, now up on the other, now someone's givin'him a hand.''It's Miss Weldon. She sure got over there in a rush!''What time is it?''Four-fifteen! You lose, Simp! Pay us!'The bet was settled.'That Miss Weldon's a queer beetle herself. Takin' after a man like Odd.'Simpson clicked his scissors. 'Being an orphan, she's got quiet ways. She likes men whodon't say much. Odd, he don't say hardly anything. Just the opposite of us crude, crude men, eh,fellows? We talk too much. Miss Weldon don't like our way of speakin'.''There they go. The two of ‘em. Miss Weldon and Odd Martin.'

'Say, take a little more off around my ears, will you Simp?'Skipping down the street, bounding a red rubber ball, came little Radney Bellows, hisblond hair flopping in a yellow fringe over his blue eyes. He bounced the ball abstractedly, tonguebetween lips, and the ball fell under Odd Martin's feet where he sat once more on the tar barrel.

Inside the grocery, Miss Weldon was doing her supper shopping, putting soup cans and vegetablecans into a basket.'Can I have my ball?' asked little Radney Bellows upwards at the six feet two inches of Odd Martin. No one was within hearing distance.'Can you have your ball?' said Odd Martin haltingly. He turned it over inside his head, itappeared. His level, grey eyes shaped up Radney like one would shape up a little ball of clay. 'Youcan have your ball, yes; take it.'Radney bent slowly and took hold of the bright red rubber globe and arose slowly, asecretive look in his eyes.'I know something.'Odd Martin looked down. 'You know something?'Radney leaned forward. 'You're

dead

.'Odd Martin sat there.'You're really dead,' whispered little Radney Bellows. 'But I'm the only one who reallyknows. I believe you, Mr. Odd. I tried it once myself. Dying, I mean. It's hard. It's work. I laid onthe floor for an hour. But my stomach itched, so I scratched it, and the blood got up in my head andmade me dizzy. Then I quit. Why?' He looked at his shoes. ' ‘Cause I had to go to the bathroom.'

A slow, understanding smile formed in the soft pallid flesh of Odd Martin's long, bonyface. 'It is

work. It isn't easy.''Sometimes, I think about you,' said Radney. 'I see you walk by my house. Nights.Sometimes two in the morning. I wake up. I know you're out walking around. I know I should look out, and I do, and, gee, there you are, walking and walking. Not going hardly any place.''There's no place to go.' Odd sat with his large, square, calloused hands on his knees. 'Itry thinking of someplace to go

' He slowed, like a horse to a bit-pull ' but it's hard tothink. I try and try. Sometimes I almost know what to do, where to go. Then, I forget. Once I hadan idea to go to a doctor and have him declare me dead, but, somehow ' his voice was slow andhusky and low '

I never got there.'Radney looked straight at him. 'If you want, I'll take you.'Odd Martin glanced leisurely at the setting sun. 'No. I'm weary, tired, but I'll wait.Now I've gone this far, I'm curious to see what happens next. After the flood that washed away myfarm and all my stock and put me under water, like a chicken in a bucket, I filled up like you'd fill athermos with water, and I came walking out of the flood, anyhow. But I knew I was dead. Late of nights I lay listening in my room, but there's no heartbeat in my ears or in my chest or in my wrists,though I lie still as a cold cricket. Nothing inside me but a darkness and a relaxation and anunderstanding. There must be a reason for me still walking, though. Maybe it was because I wasstill young when I died. Only twenty-eight, and not married yet. I always wanted to marry, never

got around to it. Here I am, doing odd jobs around town, saving my money, ‘cause I never eat,

heck, I can't eat, and sometimes getting so discouraged and downright bewildered that I lie in the gutterand hope they'll take me and poke me in a pine box and lay me away for ripening. Yet, at the sametime I don't want that. I want a little more. I realize it whenever Miss Weldon walks by and I seethe wind playing her hair like a little brown feather

' He sighed away into a pause.Radney Bellows waited a minute, then cleared his throat and darted away, bouncing hisball. 'See you later!'Odd stared at the spot where Radney had been. Five minutes later he blinked. 'Eh?Somebody here? Somebody speak?'Miss Weldon came from the grocery with a basket of food

'Like to walk me home, Odd?'They walked along in a comfortable silence, she careful not to walk too fast, because heset his feet down carefully. The wind rustled in the cedars and in the elms and the maples all alongthe way. Several times his lips parted and he glanced aside at her, and then he shut his mouth tightand squinted ahead, as if looking at something a million miles off.Finally, he said, 'Miss Weldon?''Yes, Odd?''I been saving and saving my money. I've got quite a handsome sum. I don't spend muchfor anything, and you'd be surprised,' he said, sincerely. 'I got about a thousand dollars. Maybemore. Sometimes I count it and get tired and I can't count no more. And ' He seemed baffled anda little angry with her, suddenly. '

Why do you like me, Miss Weldon?' he demanded.She looked a little surprised, then smiled up at him. It was almost a child look of likingshe gave him. 'Because. You're quiet. Because. You're not loud and mean. Like the men at thebarber's. Because. I'm lonely, and you've been kind. Because you're the first one that ever looked atme. The others don't even see me, not once. They say I can't think. They say I'm senseless becauseI didn't finish sixth grade. But I'm so lonely, Odd, and talking to you means so much.'He held her small white hand, tight.She moistened her lips. 'I wish we could do something about the way people talk aboutyou. I don't want to sound mean, but if you'd only stop telling them you're dead, Odd.'He stopped walking. 'Then you don't believe me, either,' he said, remotely.

'You're ‘dead' for want of a good woman's cooking, for loving, for living decent, Odd.That's what you mean by ‘dead'; nothing else!'

His grey eyes were deep and lost. 'Is that what I mean?' He saw her eager, shiny face.'Yes, that's what I mean. You guessed it right. That's what I mean.'Their footsteps went along together, drifting in the wind, like leaves floating, and thenight got darker and softer and the stars came out.Two boys and two girls stood under a street lamp about nine o'clock that evening. Faraway down the street someone walked along slowly, quietly, alone.'There he is,' said one of the boys. '

You ask him, Tom.'Tom scowled uneasily. The girls laughed at him. Tom said, 'Okay, but you come along.'Odd Martin walked along, pausing now and then to examine a fallen leaf with the tip of his shoe, turning and lifting it.'Mr. Odd? Hey there, Mr. Odd!''Eh? Oh, hello.''Mr. Odd, we

' Tom swallowed and looked around for assistance. 'That is we want you to well we want you to come to our party!'A minute later, after looking at Tom's clean, soap-smelling face and seeing the prettyblue jacket his sixteen-year-old girl friend wore, Odd answered. 'Thank you. But I don't know. Imight forget to come.''No, you wouldn't. You'd remember, because this is Hallowe'en!'Tom's girl pulled his arm. 'Let's go, Tom. Let's not have him. Let's not. Please. He won'tdo, Tom.''Why won't he do?''He's he's not scary enough.'Tom shook her off. 'Let me handle this.'The girl pleaded. 'Please, no. He's just a dirty old man. Bill can put candle-tallow on hisfingers and those horrid porcelain teeth in his mouth and the green chalk marks under his eyes and scare the ducks out of us. We don't need him!

' And she perked her rebellious head at Odd.Odd Martin stood watching the leaves under his shoe-tips. He heard the stars sitting inthe sky for ten minutes before he knew the four young folks were gone. A round dry laugh came inhis mouth like a pebble. Children. Hallowe'en. Not scary enough. Bill'd do better. Candle-tallowand green chalk. Just an old man. He tasted the laughter, found it both strange and bitter.Morning again. Radney Bellows flung his ball against the store front, caught it, flung itagain. Someone hummed behind him. He turned. 'Hi, Mr. Odd!'Odd Martin, walking with green paper dollars in his fingers, counted them. He stoppedon one spot and held himself in one position. His eyes were senseless.'Radney,' he cried out. 'Radney!' His hands groped.'Yes, sir, Mr. Odd!''Radney, where was I going? Just now, where was I going? Going somewhere to buysomething for Miss Weldon! Here, Radney, help me!''Yes, sir, Mr. Odd!' Radney ran and stood in his shadow.A hand came down, money in it, seventy dollars of money. 'Radney, run buy a dress for Miss Weldon

' The hand opened, the money fell, the hand remained out, opening, makinggasping, seeking moves, wrestling, wondering moves. There was numbed terror and longing andfear in Odd's face. 'The place, I can't remember the place, oh God, help me remember. A dress, anda coat. For Miss Weldon, at

at ''Krausmann's Department Store?' said Radney.'No.''Fielder's?''No!''Mr. Leiberman's?''That's it! Leiberman! Here, here, Radney, run down to ''Leiberman's.'' and get a new green dress for Miss Weldon, and a coat. A new green dress withyellow roses painted on it. You get them and bring them to me here. Oh, Radney, wait.''Yes, sir?''Radney you think, maybe, I could clean up at your house?' asked Odd quietly. 'I needa a bath.''Gee, I don't know, Mr. Odd. My folks'r funny. I don't know.''That's all right, Radney. I understand. Run now!'Radney ran on the double. Odd Martin stood in the sunlight, humming a tune in hismouth. Radney ran with the money past the barber shop; poked his head inside. Mr. Simpsonstopped snipping Mr. Trumbull's hair and glared at him. 'Hey!' cried Radney. 'Odd Martin'shumming a tune!''What tune?' asked Simpson.'Goes like this,' and Radney hummed it.'Yee God's Amaughty!' bellowed Simpson. 'So that's why Miss Weldon ain't heremanicurin' this mornin'! That there tune's the Weddin' March!'Radney rushed on. Pandemonium!Shouting, laughter, a squishing and pattering of water. The back room of the barberemporium steamed and sweated. Everybody had his turn. Mr. Simpson heaved a bucket of hotwater down over Odd Martin sitting in a galvanized tin tub. Mr. Trumbull banged and whisked

Odd's pale back with a big beardy brush on a stick. Old man Gilpatrick doused him with a half quartof cow-soap, that bubbled and frothed and stank sweetly, and every once in a while Shorty Phillipshit Odd with jigger of eau de cologne. They all funned and ran around, slipping, in the steam. 'Put

some more on ‘em!' More water. 'Scrub with that brush, you!

' The brush sizzled on Odd's spine. Mr.Simpson gunked in his throat, laughing: 'Always said marriage is what you needed, Odd!'Somebody else said, 'Congratulations!' and smacked Odd right square on his shoulder blades with acan of ice-water. Odd Martin didn't even notice the shock. 'You'll smell fine now!'Odd sat blowing bubbles in one cupped hand. 'Thanks. Thanks so much for helping.Thanks for scouring me. Thanks, I needed it.'Simpson put a hand over his own smiling mouth. 'Nothing's too good for you, ya knowthat, Odd.'Someone whispered in the steamy background, 'Imagine. . . her. . . him. . . and married.. . moron married. . . to an idiot. . . why. . .''Shut up, back there!' Simpson frowned.Radney ran in. 'Here's the green dress, Mr. Odd!'An hour later they perched Odd in the barber chair. Someone had lent him a new pair of black shoes. Mr. Trumbull polished them vigorously, winking at everybody. Mr. Simpson snippedOdd's hair, took no money for it. 'No, Odd keep your money. This is all a weddin' present to you.Yes, sir.' And he spat. Then he shook rose-water on Odd's scalp. 'There, Moonlight and roses!'Odd Martin looked around. 'You won't tell nobody about this marriage,' he asked, 'untiltomorrow? Me and Miss Weldon sort of want a marriage without the town poking fun. You see?''Sure, Odd,' said Simpson, finishing the job. 'Mum's the word. Where you goin' to live?You buyin' a farm?''Farm?' Odd stepped from the chair. Somebody'd lent him a nice new tan coat, andsomeone else'd pressed his pants sharp for him. He looked elegant. 'Yes, I'm going over to buy theproperty now. Have to pay extra, but it's worth it. Extra. Come on, Radney.' He paused at the door.'I bought a house out on the edge of town. I have to go make the payment on it now.'Simpson stopped him. 'What's it like? You didn't have much money.''It's a small house,' said Odd, 'but it'll do. Some folks built it a while back, then movedaway East somewhere. It was up for sale for only five hundred, so I got it. Miss Weldon and I aremoving out there tonight, after our marriage. But don't tell nobody, please, until tomorrow.''Sure thing, Odd. Sure thing.'Odd went away into the four o'clock light, Radney at his side, and the barber shop menfell down into chairs and grabbed their ribs and laughed.The sun went down slow and the snipping of the shears continued, with the buzzing of flies, the clock ticking, and the men sitting around nodding their heads, showing their teeth, wavingtheir hands, joking. . .The next morning at breakfast, little Radney Bellows sat thoughtfully spooning hiscereal. Father folded his newspaper across the table and looked at Mother. 'Everybody in town'stalking about the quiet elopement of Odd Martin and Miss Weldon,' said Father. 'People, lookingfor them, can't find them.''Well,' said Mother, 'I heard he bought her a house.''I heard that, too,' admitted Father. 'I phoned Carl Rogers this morning. He says he didn'tsell any house to Odd. And Carl is the only real-estate dealer in town.'Radney Bellows swallowed more cereal. He looked at his father. 'Oh, no, he's not the only real-estate dealer in town.'

'What do you mean?' demanded Father.'Nothing, except I looked out the window at midnight and I saw something.''You saw what?''It was all moonlight. And you know what I saw? Well, I saw two people walking up theElm Glade road. A man and a woman. A man in a nice new coat, and a woman in a green dress.Walking real slow. Holding hands.' Radney took a breath. 'And the two people were Mr. OddMartin and Miss Weldon. And walking out the Elm Glade road there ain't any houses out that wayat all. Only the Trinity Park Cemetery. And Mr. Gustavsson, in town, he sells tombs in the TrinityPark Cemetery. He's got an office in town. Like I said, Mr. Carl Rogers ain't the only real estateman in town. So

''Oh,' snorted Father, irritably, 'you were dreaming!'Radney bent his head over his cereal and looked out from the corners of his eyes.'Yes, sir,' he said, finally, sighing. 'I was only dreaming.