Steel by Richard Matheson

you’re not startin’ in again, Frank.”
    Frank explained it to both of them. He made it clear that he in no way regarded her as a mere cash purchase; that it was only the principle of the thing he wished to adhere to for both their sakes.
    â€œAll you have to do is take the money,” he finished, “and everything will be all right.”
    She looked at her father. Her father looked at her.
    â€œTake it, father,” she sighed.
    Mr. O’Shea shrugged and took the money.
    â€œFour-nine-two,” sang Frank. “Three-five-seven … eight-one-six. Fifteen, fifteen and thrice on my breast I spit to guard me safe from fascinating charms.”
    â€œFrank!” she cried. “You got your shirt all wet!”
    *   *   *
    Then he told her that, instead of throwing out her bouquet, she’d have to let all the men make a rush for her garter.
    She squinted at him. “Come on , Frank. This is goin’ too far.”
    He looked pained.
    â€œI’m only trying to make things right for us,” he said. “I don’t want anything to go wrong.”
    â€œBut—good God, Frank!—haven’t you done enough? You got me to change the wedding day. You bought me for fifteen dollars and spit all over yourself in front of Daddy. You make me wear this awful itchy hair bracelet. Well, I stood for it all. But I’m gettin’ a little tired of it all. Enough’s enough.”
    Frank got sad. He stroked her hand and looked like Joan of Arc going up in flames.
    â€œI’m only trying to do what I think is best,” he said. “We are beset by a host of dangers. We must be wary of what we do or all is lost.”
    She stared at him. “Frank, you do want to marry me, don’t you? This isn’t just a scheme to—?”
    He swept her into his arms and kissed her fervently.
    â€œFulvia,” he said, “ Dearest. I love you and I want to marry you. But we must do what is right.”
    Later Mr. O’Shea said, “He’s a jerk. Kick him out on his ear.”
    But she was rather chubby and she wasn’t very pretty and Frank was the only man who’d ever proposed to her.
    So she sighed and gave in. She talked it over with her mother and her father. She said that everything would be all right as soon as they got married. She said, “I’ll humor him until then, and then— whammo! ”
    But she managed to talk him out of having the male wedding guests make a rush for her garter.
    â€œYou don’t want me to get my neck broken, do you?” she asked.
    â€œYou’re right,” he said. “Just throw them your stockings.”
    â€œDarlin’, let me throw my bouquet. Please?”
    He looked pensive.
    â€œAll right,” he said. “But I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.”
    He got some salt and put it in the hot oven in her kitchen. After a while he looked in.
    â€œNow our tears are dry and we’re all right for a while,” he said.
    *   *   *
    The wedding day arrived.
    Frank was up bright and early. He went to church and made sure all the windows were closed tight to keep the demons out. He told the pastor it was lucky it was February so the doors could be kept closed. He made it quite clear that no one was to be allowed to touch the doors during the ceremony.
    The pastor got mad when Frank fired his .38 up the chimney.
    â€œWhat in heaven’s name are you doing!” he asked.
    â€œI am just frightening off evil spirits,” said Frank.
    â€œYoung man, there are no evil spirits in the First Calvary Episcopal Church!”
    Frank apologized. But, while the pastor was out in the lobby explaining the shot to a local policeman, Frank took some dishes out of his overcoat pocket, broke them and put the pieces under pew seats and in corners.
    Then he rushed downtown and bought twenty-five pounds of rice in case anyone ran out of it