And it was much colder up there. With a quarter-inch nylon rope tied around his waist, Luther crawled upward, catlike and terrified, over the asphalt shingles until he reached the summit. He peeked over the crown of the roof and peered below-the She has the soul of a gypsy the heart of a hippie and the spirit of a fairy poster Scheels were directly in front of him, way down there. He looped the rope around the chimney, then inched back down, backward, until he hit a patch of ice and slid for two feet. Catching himself, he paused and allowed his heart to start working again. He looked down in terror. If by some tragedy he fell, hed free-fall for a very brief flight, then land among the metal patio furniture sitting on hard brick. Death would not be instant, no sir. Hed suffer, and if he didnt die hed have a broken neck or maybe brain damage. How utterly ridiculous.
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