now。
In the Overlook's kitchen he paused to take two Excedrin and then went
downstairs and looked at papers until he heard the dim sound of the hotel truck
rattling into the driveway。 He went up to meet them。 He felt all right。 He saw
no need to mention his hallucination。 He'd had a bad scare but it was over now。
》
SNOW
It was dusk。
They stood on the porch in the fading light； Jack in the middle； his left arm
around Danny's shoulders and his right arm around Wendy's waist。 Together they
watched as the decision was taken out of their hands。
The sky had been pletely clouded over by two…thirty and it had begun to
snow an hour later； and this time you didn't need a weatherman to tell you it
was serious snow； no flurry that was going to melt or blow away when the evening
wind started to whoop。 At first it had fallen in perfectly straight lines；
building up a snowcover that coated everything evenly； but now； an hour after it
had started； the wind had begun to blow from the northwest and the snow had
begun to drift against the porch and the sides of the Overlook's driveway。
Beyond the grounds the highway had disappeared under an even blanket of white。
The hedge animals were also gone； but when Wendy and Danny had gotten home； she
had mended him on the good job he had done。 Do you think so？ he had asked；
and said no more。 Now the hedges were buried under amorphous white cloaks。
Curiously； all of them were thinking different thoughts but feeling the same
emotion： relief。 The bridge had been crossed。
〃Will it ever be spring？〃 Wendy murmured。
Jack squeezed her tighter。 〃Before you know it。 What do you say we go in and
have some supper？ It's cold out here。〃
She smiled。 All afternoon Jack had seemed distant and 。。。 well； odd。 Now he
sounded more like his normal self。 〃Fine by me。 How about you； Danny？〃
〃Sure。〃
So they went in together； leaving the wind to build to the low…pitched scream
that would go on all night a sound they would get to know well。 Flakes of snow
swirled and danced across the porch。 The Overlook faced it as it had for nearly
three quarters of a century； its darkened windows now bearded with snow；
indifferent to the fact that it was now cut off from the world。 Or possibly it
was pleased with the prospect。 Inside its shell the three of them went about
their early evening routine； like microbes trapped in the intestine of a
monster。
》
INSIDE 217
A week and a half later two feet of snow lay white and crisp and even on the
grounds of the Overlook Hotel。 The hedge menagerie was buried up to its
haunches； the rabbit； frozen on its hind legs； seemed to be rising from a white
pool。 Some of the drifts were over five feet deep。 The wind was constantly
changing them； sculpting them into sinuous； dunelike shapes。 Twice Jack had
snowshoed clumsily around to the equipment shed for his shovel to clear the
porch； the third time he shrugged； simply cleared a path through the towering
drift lying against the door； and let Danny amuse himself by sledding to the
right and left of the path。 The truly heroic drifts lay against the Overlook's
west side； some of them towered to a height of twenty feet； and beyond them the
ground was scoured bare to the grass by the constant windflow。 The first…floor
windows were covered； and the view from the dining room which Jack had so
admired on closing day was now no more exciting than a view of a blank movie
screen。 Their phone had been out for the last eight days； and the CB radio in
Ullman's office was now their only munications link with the outside world。
It snowed every day now； sometimes only brief flurries that powdered the
glittering snow crust； sometimes for real； the low whistle of the wind cranking
up to a womanish shriek that made the old hotel rock and groan alarmingly even
in its deep cradle of snow。 Night temperatures had not gotten above 10°； and
although the thermometer by the kitchen service entrance sometimes got as high
as 25° in the early afternoons； the steady knife edge of the wind made it
unfortable to go out without a ski mask。 But they all did go out on the days
when the sun shone； usually wearing two sets of clothing and mittens on over
their gloves。 Getting out was almost a pulsive thing； the hotel was circled
with the double track of Danny's Flexible Flyer。 The permutations were nearly
endless： Danny riding while his parents pulled； Daddy riding and laughing while
Wendy and Danny tried to pull （it was just possible for them to pull him on the
icy crust； and flatly impossible when powder covered it）； Danny and Mommy
riding； Wendy riding by herself while her menfolk pulled and puffed white vapor
like drayhorses； pretending she was heavier than she was。 They laughed a great
deal on these sled excursions around the house； but the whooping and impersonal
voice of the wind； so huge and hollowly sincere； made their laughter seem tinny
and forced。
They had seen caribou tracks in the snow and once the caribou themselves； a
group of five standing motionlessly below the security fence。 They had all taken
turns with Jack's Zeiss…Ikon binoculars to see them better； and looking at them
had given Wendy a weird； unreal feeling： they were standing leg…deep in the snow
that covered the highway； and it came to her that between now and the spring
thaw； the road belonged more to the caribou than it did to them。 Now the things
that men had made up here were neutralized。 The caribou understood that； she
believed。 She had put the binoculars down and had said something about starting
lunch and in the kitchen she had cried a little； trying to rid herself of the
awful pent…up feeling that sometimes fell on her like a large； pressing hand
over her heart。 She thought of the caribou。 She thought of the wasps Jack had
put out on the service entrance platform； under the Pyrex bowl； to freeze。
There were plenty of snowshoes hung from nails in the equipment shed； and Jack
found a pair to fit each of them； although Danny's pair was quite a bit
outsized。 Jack did well with them。 Although he had not snowshoed since his
boyhood in Berlin； New Hampshire； he retaught himself quickly。 Wendy didn't care
much for it — even fifteen minutes of tramping around on the outsized laced
paddles made her legs and ankles ache outrageously but Danny was intrigued and
working hard to pick up the knack。 He still fell often； but Jack was pleased
with his progress。 He said that by February Danny would be skipping circles
around both of them。
* * *
This day was overcast； and by noon the sky had already begun to spit snow。 The
radio was promising another eight to twelve inches and chanting hosannas to
Precipitation； that great god of Colorado skiers。 Wendy； sitting in the bedroom
and knitting a scarf； thought to herself that she knew exactly what the skiers
could do with all that snow。 She knew exactly where they could put it。
Jack was in the cellar。 He had gone down to ch