The Blob Read Online Free Page A

stepped behind the counter and slapped the order onto the ledge of the window between the serving area and the kitchen, Geller groped in his mind for another conversation starter.
    “That’s the biggest order the whole hour I’ve been here,” he said. “Looks like the game’s put you out of business.”
    She looked at him strangely, then realized he was just making conversation. “Don’t worry. When they’re done screaming their heads off, they’ll come in here like a flood. More ice tea?”
    Herb pushed his glass forward. “Please!”
    Fran had long hair that was drawn tightly behind her head now, making her look severe. But those bluish eyes and those soft lips betrayed a kind of vulnerability that appealed immensely to Herb Geller, that made him really want to know about this lady. As she poured him the tea, he noted admiringly the way she kept her uniformed starched and clean. He caught a whiff of fresh-scrubbed skin, a hint of Opium perfume, which just happened to be his very favorite.
    “Good to see this town get up on its hind legs about something, ” she said. “Even if it is only a football game.”
    “Takes their minds off their troubles. Been a lean year for most folks.”
    Fran shrugged. “Ski season’s almost here. There’ll be tourists. I hear you like the tourists especially, Herb.”
    Before he could comment, she grabbed his plate, which held the remnants of his tuna on whole wheat. “You done with this?”
    “Yeah.”
    Cripes! he thought. So she’d heard about him and the ski ladies. It figured. This wasn’t a big town, and it was only to be expected that the sheriff’s sexual activities would get talked about. Still, her comment did put a bit of a crimp in his confidence. He had been planning on playing himself as a shy and lonely guy—both of which he really and truly was, down deep. But with his reputation, it sure didn’t look like it. The truth was he didn’t really mind much getting rejected by ladies he didn’t especially care about. Experience showed that about one in seven would say yes anyway. But when you did care . . .
    Ah, the hell with it, he thought. Get on with it, Geller!
    “You know, Fran,” he said, “they got a new band out at the Tin Palace tonight. The Spurs. Country and western, so they say.”
    “Is that right?” Fran turned, but her expression stayed blank.
    “Supposed to be pretty good.”
    “That’s nice.”
    “You like country music?” Herb continued, not knowing what else to say.
    Then she seemed to get it. She leveled her gaze at him, really looking at him for the first time all day. “Herb, are you askin’ me out?”
    Herb stammered for a moment. “Well, er . . . uhm . . . Well, yeah! I guess I am!”
    Suddenly it was Fran’s turn to be flustered, and Herb Geller couldn’t tell why. He had a bad feeling, though, as she scribbled out his check, her back turned to him.
    “I don’t know,” she said suddenly. “I’m stuck here pretty late. Gotta make a living, you know.”
    Uh-oh! Here come the excuses. Herb knew a gentle letdown when he heard it, and he didn’t have to hear any more. Feelings sinking a bit, he tried to bow out gracefully.
    “Yeah. Must be tough to get away.”
    Suddenly a commotion sounded from outside. Both Herb and Fran shifted their gaze to the street, viewed through the diner’s window. What they saw was a horde of high school students, streaming banners and making noise, descending upon the diner.
    “We won!” was the cry. “We beat ’em, Fran,” yelped a girl in glasses as she flung open the door and entered, bringing the noise inside with her. “We won, twenty-one to fourteen!”
    “Oh, shit,” said Fran. She turned, bent down, and hollered into the kitchen. “George! Here they come!”
    The teenagers poured in, sweaty and wide eyed, whooping and waving, turning the whole diner into instant chaos.
    Herb shook his head at the sight. He pulled out his wallet to pay, took out one of his cards, and handed