but i 'd only gotten to the what when my voice was drowned out by a faint scratching sound . what shed give for a strawberry bomb now to steady her nerves ! `` right now , i 'm a guy covering your ass . '' back in his room , the author and his pen remain motionless as he forces himself to consider growing old . we cross the yard and the front door of the house buzzes open automatically . the negative reading claimed her breath . `` do you bag these up or burn them ? '' 