When he hit the floor, he started running. ![]() It’s a fear you can’t be talked out of or reasoned out of.” Just then there was another crack of thunder and Winn-Dixie rose straight up in the air like somebody had poked him with something hot. “Well,” he said, after a minute, “it’s a fear that goes way beyond normal fears. “Do you know what a pathological fear is?” “No sir,” I told him. He was lying on his stomach, and Winn-Dixie was sitting on top of him, panting and whining. He just stood there, and Winn-Dixie came barreling right toward him like he was a bowling ball and the preacher was the only pin left standing, and wham, they both fell to the ground. But just then there was a huge crack of thunder, one so loud that it shook the whole trailer, and Winn-Dixie came shooting back out of my room and went running right past me and I screamed, “Daddy, watch out!” But the preacher was still confused. “Opal, what’s going on?” “I don’t know,” I told him. He was standing at the door to his bedroom, and his hair was all kind of wild on top of his head, and he was looking around like he wasn’t sure where he was. I tried to grab him, but he was going too fast. But none of it lasted long, because Winn-Dixie came tearing back out of the preacher’s room, panting and running like crazy. I could tell because there was a sproi-i-ing sound that must have come from Winn-Dixie jumping up on the bed, and then there was a sound from the preacher like he was real surprised. Winn-Dixie was already at the other end of the trailer, in the preacher’s room. “Winn-Dixie,” I hissed, “come back here.” I didn’t want him going and waking the preacher up. “Huh? Is that what you want?” I stood up and opened the door and Winn-Dixie flew through it like something big and ugly and mean was chasing him. I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him, but he didn’t turn and look at me or smile or sneeze or wag his tail, or do any normal kind of Winn-Dixie thing he just kept beating his head against the door and crying and shaking. He just kept beating his head against the door and whining and whimpering and when I got out of bed and went over and put my hand on his head, he was shaking and trembling so hard that it scared me. “What are you doing?” He didn’t pay any attention to me. It was Winn-Dixie, whining and butting his head against my bedroom door. ![]() But what woke me up wasn’t the thunder and lightning. “night, there was a real bad thunderstorm.
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