Everything was just as it had been。 So why had the flesh of his face and hands
begun to creep； and why had the hair along the back of his neck begun to stand
up； as if the flesh back there had suddenly tightened？
He squinted up at the hotel again； but that was no answer。 It simply stood
there； its windows dark； a tiny thread of smoke curling from the chimney； ing
from the banked fire in the lobby。
（Buster； you better get going or they're going to e back and wonder if you
were doing anything all the while。）
Sure； get going。 Because the snow was ing and he had to get the damn hedges
trimmed。 It was part of the agreement。 Besides； they wouldn't dare
（Who wouldn't？ What wouldn't？ Dare do what？）
He began to walk back toward the hedge…clipper at the foot of the big kids'
slide； and the sound of his feet crunching on the crushed stone seemed
abnormally loud。 Now the flesh on his testicles had begun to creep too； and his
buttocks felt hard and heavy； like stone。
（Jesus； what is this？）
He stopped by the hedge…clipper； but made no move to pick it up。 Yes； there
was something different。 In the topiary。 And it was so simple； so easy to see；
that he just wasn't picking it up。 e on； he scolded himself； you just trimmed
the fucking rabbit； so what's the
（that's it）
His breath stopped in his throat。
The rabbit was down on all fours； cropping grass。 Its belly was against the
ground。 But not ten minutes ago it had been up on its hind legs； of course it
had been； he had trimmed its ears 。。。 and its belly。
His eyes darted to the dog。 When he had e down the path it had been sitting
up； as if begging for a sweet。 Now it was crouched； head tilted； the clipped
wedge of mouth seeming to snarl silently。 And the lions —
（oh no； baby； oh no； uh…uh； no way）
the lions were closer to the path。 The two on his right had subtly changed
positions； had drawn closer together。 The tail of the one on the left now almost
jutted out over the path。 When he had e past them and through the gate； that
lion had been on the right and he was quite sure its tail had been curled around
it。
They were no longer protecting the path； they were blocking it。
Jack put his hand suddenly over his eyes and then took it away。 The picture
didn't change。 A soft sigh； too quiet to be a groan； escaped him。 In his
drinking days he had always been afraid of something like this happening。 But
when you were a heavy drinker you called it the DTs — good old Ray Milland in
Lost Weekend； seeing the bugs ing out of the walls。
What did you call it when you were cold sober？
The question was meant to be rhetorical； but his mind answered it
（you call it insanity）
nevertheless。
Staring at the hedge animals； he realized something had changed while he had
his hand over his eyes。 The dog had moved closer。 No longer crouching； it seemed
to be in a running posture； haunches flexed； one front leg forward； the other
back。 The hedge mouth yawned wider； the pruned sticks looked sharp and vicious。
And now he fancied he could see faint eye indentations in the greenery as well。
Looking at him。
Why do they have to be trimmed？ he thought hysterically。 They're perfect。
Another soft sound。 He involuntarily backed up a step when he looked at the
lions。 One of the two on the right seemed to have drawn slightly ahead of the
other。 Its head was lowered。 One paw had stolen almost all the way to the low
fence。 Dear God； what next？
（next it leaps over and gobbles you up like something in an evil nursery
fable）
It was like that game they had played when they were kids； red light。 One
person was 〃it；〃 and while he turned his back and counted to ten； the other
players crept forward。 When 〃it〃 got to ten； he whirled around and if he caught
anyone moving； they were out of the game。 The others remained frozen in statue
postures until 〃it〃 turned his back and counted again。 They got closer and
closer； and at last； somewhere between five and ten； you would feel a hand on
your back。。。
Gravel rattled on the path。
He jerked his head around to look at the dog and it was halfway down the
pathway； just behind the lions now； its mouth wide and yawning。 Before； it had
only been a hedge clipped in the general shape of a dog； something that lost all
definition when you got up close to it。 But now Jack could see that it had been
clipped to look like a German shepherd； and shepherds could be mean。 You could
train shepherds to kill。
A low rustling sound。
The lion on the left had advanced all the way to the fence now； its muzzle was
touching the boards。 It seemed to be grinning at him。 Jack backed up another two
steps。 His head was thudding crazily and he could feel the dry rasp of his
breath in his throat。 Now the buffalo had moved； circling to the right； behind
and around the rabbit。 The head was lowered； the green hedge horns pointing at
him。 The thing was； you couldn't watch all of them。 Not all at once。
He began to make a whining sound； unaware in his locked concentration that he
was making any sound at all。 His eyes darted from one hedge creature to the
next； trying to see them move。 The wind gusted； making a hungry rattling sound
in the close…matted branches。 What kind of sound would there be if they got him？
But of course he knew。 A snapping； rending； breaking sound。 It would be
（no no NO NO I WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS NOT AT ALL！）
He clapped his hands over his eyes； clutching at his hair； his forehead； his
throbbing temples。 And he stood like that for a long time； dread building until
he could stand it no longer and he pulled his hands away with a cry。
By the putting green the dog was sitting up； as if begging for a scrap。 The
buffalo was gazing with disinterest back toward the roque court； as it had been
when Jack had e down with the clippers。 The rabbit stood on its hind legs；
ears up to catch the faintest sound； freshly clipped belly exposed。 The lions；
rooted into place； stood beside the path。
He stood frozen for a long time； the harsh breath in his throat finally
slowing。 He reached for his cigarettes and shook four of them out onto the
gravel。 He stooped down and picked them up； groped for them； never taking his
eyes from the topiary for fear the animals would begin to move again。 He picked
them up； stuffed three carelessly back into the pack； and lit the fourth。 After
two deep drags he dropped it and crushed it out。 He went to the hedge…clipper
and picked it up。
〃I'm very tired；〃 be said； and now it seemed okay to talk out loud。 It didn't
seem crazy at all。 〃I've been under a strain。 The wasps 。。。 the play 。。。 Al
calling me like that。 But it's all right。〃
He began to trudge back up to the hotel。 Part of his mind tugged fretfully at
him； tried to make him detour around the hedge animals； but he went directly up
the gravel path； through them。 A faint breeze rattled through them； that was
all。 He had imagined the whole thing。 He had had a bad scare but it was over
now。
In the Overlook's kitchen he paused to take two Excedrin and then