TEXT:  
   
   
   
   
  Cool Air
   
  byH. P.Lovecraft
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  You ask me to explain why I am afraid of a draught of cool air; why I shiver more than others upon
  entering a cold room, and
  seemnauseated and repelled when the chill of evening creeps through the heat of a mild autumn day.
  There are those who say I
  respondto cold as others do to a badodour , and I am the last to deny the impression. What I will do is
  to relate the most horrible
  circumstanceI ever encountered, and leave it to you to judge whether or not this forms a suitable
  explanation of my peculiarity.
   
  It is a mistake to fancy that horror is associated inextricably with darkness, silence, and solitude. I found
  it in the glare of
  mid-afternoon, in theclangour of a metropolis, and in the teaming midst of a shabby and commonplace
  rooming-house with a
  prosaiclandlady and two stalwart men by my side. In the spring of 1923 I had secured some dreary and
  unprofitable magazine
  workin the city ofNew York; and being unable to pay any substantial rent, began drifting from one cheap
  boarding establishment
  toanother in search of a room which might combine the qualities of decent cleanliness, endurable
  furnishings, and very reasonable
  price. It soon developed that I had only a choice between different evils, but after a time I came upon a
  house in West Fourteenth
  Street which disgusted me much less than the others I had sampled.
   
  The place was a four-story mansion of brownstone, dating apparently from the late forties, and fitted with
  woodwork and marble
  whosestained and sulliedsplendour argued a descent from high levels of tasteful opulence. In the rooms,
  large and lofty, and
  decoratedwith impossible paper and ridiculously ornate stucco cornices, there lingered a depressing
  mustiness and hint of obscure
  cookery; but the floors were clean, the linen tolerably regular, and the hot water not too often cold or
  turned off, so that I came to
  regardit as at least a bearable place to hibernate till one might really live again. The landlady, a slatternly,
  almost bearded Spanish
  womannamedHerrero , did not annoy me with gossip or with criticisms of the late-burning electric light in
  my third-floor front hall
  room; and my fellow-lodgers were as quiet and uncommunicative as one might desire, being mostly
  Spaniards a little above the
  coarsestand crudest grade. Only the din of street cars in the thoroughfare below proved a serious
  
  annoyance.
   
  I had been there about three weeks when the first odd incident occurred. One evening at about eight I
  heard a spattering on the
  floorand became suddenly aware that I had been smelling the pungentodour of ammonia for some time.
  Looking about, I saw that
  theceiling was wet and dripping; the soaking apparently proceeding from a corner on the side toward the
  street. Anxious to stop
  thematter at its source, I hastened to the basement to tell the landlady; and was assured by her that the
  trouble would quickly be
  setright.
   
  "DoctairMuñoz," she cried as she rushed upstairs ahead of me, "hehavespeelhees chemicals. Heees
  tooseeck fordoctair
  heemself--seeckerandseecker all the time--but heweel not have noothair for help. Heeesvairy queer
  inheesseeckness --all day
  hetakefunnee -smelling baths, and he cannot get excite or warm. Allhees own housework hedo
  --heesleetleroom are full of
  bottlesand machines, and he do not work asdoctair . But he was great once--myfathair inBarcelonahave
  hear ofheem --and only
  joostnow hefeex a arm of the plumber that get hurt of sudden. Henevair go out, only on roof, and my boy
  Esteban hebreeng
  heemheesfood and laundry andmediceens and chemicals. MyGawd , thesal -ammoniac that manuse for
  keepheem cool !"
   
  Mrs.Herrero disappeared up the staircase to the fourth floor, and I returned to my room. The ammonia
  ceased to drip, and as I
  cleanedup what had spilled and opened the window for air, I heard the landlady's heavy footsteps above
  me. Dr.Muñoz I had
  neverheard, save for certain sounds as of some gasoline-driven mechanism; since his step was soft and
  gentle. I wondered for a
  momentwhat the strange affliction of this man might be, and whether his obstinate refusal of outside aid
  were not the result of a
  ratherbaseless eccentricity. There is, I reflected tritely, an infinite deal of pathos in the state of an eminent
  person who has come
  downin the world.
   
  I might never have known Dr.Muñoz had it not been for the heart attack that suddenly seized me one
  forenoon as I sat writing in
  myroom. Physicians had told me of the danger of those spells, and I knew there was no time to be lost;
  so remembering what the
  landladyhad said about the invalid's help of the injured workman, I dragged myself upstairs and knocked
  feebly at the door above
  mine. My knock was answered in good English by a curious voice some distance to the right, asking my
  name and business; and
  thesethings being stated, there came an opening of the door next to the one I had sought.
   
  A rush of cool air greeted me; and though the day was one of the hottest of late June, I shivered as I
  crossed the threshold into a
  largeapartment whose rich and tasteful decoration surprised me in this nest of squalor and seediness. A
  folding couch now filled
  
  itsdiurnal role of sofa, and the mahogany furniture, sumptuous hangings, old paintings, and mellow
  bookshelves all bespoke a
  gentleman'sstudy rather than a boarding-house bedroom. I now saw that the hall room above mine--the
  "leetleroom" of bottles
  andmachines which Mrs.Herrero had mentioned--was merely the laboratory of the doctor; and that his
  main living quarters lay in
  thespacious adjoining room whose convenient alcoves and large contiguous bathroom permitted him to
  hide all dressers and
  obtrusivelyutilitarian devices. Dr.Muñoz , most certainly, was a man of birth, cultivation, and
  discrimination.
   
  The figure before me was short but exquisitely proportioned, and clad in somewhat formal dress of
  perfect cut and fit. A high-bred
  faceof masterful though not arrogant expression was adorned by a short iron-grey full beard, and an
  old-fashioned pince-nez
  shieldedthe full, dark eyes and surmounted an aquiline nose which gave a Moorish touch to a
  physiognomy otherwise dominantly
  Celtiberian.Thick, well-trimmed hair that argued the punctual calls of a barber was parted gracefully
  above a high forehead; and
  thewhole picture was one of striking intelligence and superior blood and breeding.
   
  Nevertheless, as I saw Dr.Muñoz in that blast of cool air, I felt a repugnance which nothing in his aspect
  could justify. Only his
  lividlyinclined complexion and coldness of touch could have afforded a physical basis for this feeling, and
  even these things should
  havebeen excusable considering the man's known invalidism. It might, too, have been the singular cold
  that alienated me; for such
  chillinesswas abnormal on so hot a day, and the abnormal always excites aversion, distrust, and fear.
   
  But repugnance was soon forgotten in admiration, for the strange physician's extreme skill at once
  became manifest despite the
  ice-coldnessand shakiness of his bloodless-looking hands. He clearly understood my needs at a glance,
  and ministered to them
  witha master's deftness; the while reassuring me in a finely modulated though oddly hollow andtimbreless
  voice that he was the
  bitterestof sworn enemies to death, and had sunk his fortune and lost all his friends in a lifetime of bizarre
  experiment devoted to
  itsbafflement and extirpation. Something of the benevolent fanatic seemed to reside in him, and he
  rambled on almost garrulously
  ashe sounded my chest and mixed a suitable draught of drugs fetched from the smaller laboratory room.
  Evidently he found the
  societyof a well-born man a rare novelty in this dingy environment, and was moved to unaccustomed
  speech as memories of
  betterdays surged over him.
   
  His voice, if queer, was at least soothing; and I could not even perceive that he breathed as the fluent
  sentences rolled urbanely
  out. He sought to distract my mind from my own seizure by speaking of his theories and experiments; and
  I remember his tactfully
  consolingme about my weak heart by insisting that will and consciousness are stronger than organic life
  itself, so that if a bodily
  
  framebe but originally healthy and carefully preserved, it may through a scientific enhancement of these
  qualities retain a kind of
  nervousanimation despite the most serious impairments, defects, or even absences in the battery of
  specific organs. He might, he
  halfjestingly said, some day teach me to live--or at least to possess some kind of conscious
  existence--without any heart at all! For
  hispart, he was afflicted with a complication of maladies requiring a very exact regimen which included
  constant cold. Any
  markedrise in temperature might, if prolonged, affect him fatally; and the frigidity of his habitation--some
  55 or 56 degrees
  Fahrenheit--was maintained by an absorption system of ammonia cooling, the gasoline engine of whose
  pumps I had often heard in
  myown room below.
   
  Relieved of my seizure in amarvellously short while, I left the shivery place a disciple and devotee of the
  gifted recluse. After that
  I paid him frequentovercoated calls; listening while he told of secret researches and almost ghastly results,
  and trembling a bit
  whenI examined the unconventional and astonishingly ancient volumes on his shelves. I was eventually, I
  may add, almost cured
  ofmy disease for all time by his skillful ministrations. It seems that he did not scorn the incantations of the
  mediaevalists, sincehe
  believedthese cryptic formulae to contain rare psychological stimuli which might conceivably have singular
  effects on the
  substanceof a nervous system from which organic pulsations had fled. I was touched by his account of
  the aged Dr. Torres of
  Valencia, who had shared his earlier experiments and nursed him through the great illness of eighteen
  years before, whence his
  presentdisorders proceeded. No sooner had the venerable practitioner saved his colleague than he
  himself succumbed to the grim
  enemyhe had fought. Perhaps the strain had been too great; for Dr.Muñoz made it whisperingly
  clear--though not in detail--that
  themethods of healing had been most extraordinary, involving scenes and processes not welcomed by
  elderly and conservative
  Galens.
   
  As the weeks passed, I observed with regret that my new friend was indeed slowly but unmistakably
  losing ground physically, as
  Mrs.Herrero had suggested. The livid aspect of his countenance was intensified, his voice became more
  hollow and indistinct, his
  muscularmotions were less perfectly coordinated, and his mind and will displayed less resilience and
  initiative. Of this sad change
  heseemed by no means unaware, and little by little his expression and conversation both took on a
  gruesome irony which restored
  inme something of the subtle repulsion I had originally felt.
   
  He developed strange caprices, acquiring a fondness for exotic spices and Egyptian incense till his room
  smelled like a vault of a
  sepulchredPharaoh in theValleyofKings. At the same time his demands for cold air increased, and with
  my aid he amplified the
  ammoniapiping of his room and modified the pumps and feed of his refrigerating machine till he could
  
  keep the temperature as low
  as34 degrees or 40 degrees, and finally even 28 degrees; the bathroom and laboratory, of course, being
  less chilled, in order that
  watermight not freeze, and that chemical processes might not be impeded. The tenant adjoining him
  complained of the icy air from
  aroundthe connecting door, so I helped him fit heavy hangings to obviate the difficulty. A kind of growing
  horror, ofoutre and
  morbidcast, seemed to possess him. He talked of death incessantly, but laughed hollowly when such
  things as burial or funeral
  arrangementswere gently suggested.
   
  All in all, he became a disconcerting and even gruesome companion; yet in my gratitude for his healing I
  could not well abandon
  himto the strangers around him, and was careful to dust his room and attend to his needs each day,
  muffled in a heavyulster
  whichI bought especially for the purpose. I likewise did much of his shopping, and gasped in bafflement
  at some of the chemicals
  heordered from druggists and laboratory supply houses.
   
  An increasing and unexplained atmosphere of panic seemed to rise around his apartment. The whole
  house, as I have said, had a
  mustyodour; but the smell in his room was worse--and in spite of all the spices and incense, and the
  pungent chemicals of the now
  incessantbaths which he insisted on taking unaided. I perceived that it must be connected with his ailment,
  and shuddered when I
  reflectedon what that ailment might be. Mrs.Herrero crossed herself when she looked at him, and gave
  him up unreservedly to
  me; not even letting her son Esteban continue to run errands for him. When I suggested other physicians,
  the sufferer would fly
  intoas much of a rage as he seemed to dare to entertain. He evidently feared the physical effect of violent
  emotion, yet his will
  anddriving force waxed rather than waned, and he refused to be confined to his bed. The lassitude of his
  earlier ill days gave place
  toa return of his fiery purpose, so that he seemed about to hurl defiance at the death-daemon even as that
  ancient enemy seized
  him. The pretence of eating, always curiously like a formality with him, he virtually abandoned; and mental
  power alone appeared
  tokeep him from total collapse.
   
  He acquired a habit of writing long documents of some sort, which he carefully sealed and filled with
  injunctions that I transmit
  themafter his death to certain persons whom he named--for the most part lettered East Indians, but
  including a once celebrated
  French physician now generally thought dead, and about whom the most inconceivable things had been
  whispered. As it happened,
  I burned all these papers undelivered and unopened. His aspect and voice became utterly frightful, and
  his presence almost
  unbearable. One September day an unexpected glimpse of him induced an epileptic fit in a man who had
  come to repair his electric
  desklamp; a fit for which he prescribed effectively whilst keeping himself well out of sight. That man,
  oddly enough, had been
  
  throughthe terrors of the Great War without having incurred any fright so thorough.
   
  Then, in the middle of October, the horror of horrors came with stupefying suddenness. One night about
  eleven the pump of the
  refrigeratingmachine broke down, so that within three hours the process of ammonia cooling became
  impossible. Dr.Muñoz
  summonedme by thumping on the floor, and I worked desperately to repair the injury while my host
  cursed in a tone whose
  lifeless, rattling hollowness surpassed description. My amateur efforts, however, proved of no use; and
  when I had brought in a
  mechanicfrom aneighbouring all-night garage, we learned that nothing could be done till morning, when a
  new piston would have
  tobe obtained. The moribund hermit's rage and fear, swelling to grotesque proportions, seemed likely to
  shatter what remained of
  hisfailing physique, and once a spasm caused him to clap his hands to his eyes and rush into the
  bathroom. He groped his way out
  withface tightly bandaged, and I never saw his eyes again.
   
  The frigidity of the apartment was now sensibly diminishing, and at about5 a.m.the doctor retired to the
  bathroom, commanding
  meto keep him supplied with all the ice I could obtain at all-night drug stores and cafeterias. As I would
  return from my sometimes
  discouragingtrips and lay my spoils before the closed bathroom door, I could hear a restless splashing
  within, and a thick voice
  croakingout the order for "More--more!" At length a warm day broke, and the shops opened one by
  one. I asked Esteban either to
  helpwith the ice-fetching whilst I obtained the pump piston, or to order the piston while I continued with
  the ice; but instructed by
  hismother, he absolutely refused.
   
  Finally I hired a seedy-looking loafer whom I encountered on the corner ofEighth Avenueto keep the
  patient supplied with ice
  froma little shop where I introduced him, and applied myself diligently to the task of finding a pump piston
  and engaging workmen
  competentto install it. The task seemed interminable, and I raged almost as violently as the hermit when I
  saw the hours slipping
  byin a breathless, foodless round of vain telephoning, and a hectic quest from place to place, hither and
  thither by subway and
  surfacecar. AboutnoonI encountered a suitable supply house far downtown, and at approximately1:30
  p.m.arrived at my
  boarding-placewith the necessary paraphernalia and two sturdy and intelligent mechanics. I had done all I
  could, and hoped I was
  intime.
   
  Black terror, however, had preceded me. The house was in utter turmoil, and above the chatter of awed
  voices I heard a man
  prayingin a deep basso. Fiendish things were in the air, and lodgers told over the beads of their rosaries
  as they caught theodour
  frombeneath the doctor's closed door. The lounger I had hired, it seems, had fled screaming and
  mad-eyed not long after his
  seconddelivery of ice; perhaps as a result of excessive curiosity. He could not, of course, have locked the
  
  door behind him; yet it
  wasnow fastened, presumably from the inside. There was no sound within save a nameless sort of slow,
  thick dripping.
   
  Briefly consulting with Mrs.Herrero and the workmen despite a fear that gnawed my inmost soul, I
  advised the breaking down of
  thedoor; but the landlady found a way to turn the key from the outside with some wire device. We had
  previously opened the
  doorsof all the other rooms on that hall, and flung all the windows to the very top. Now, noses protected
  by handkerchiefs, we
  tremblinglyinvaded the accursed south room which blazed with the warm sun of early afternoon.
   
  A kind of dark, slimy trail led from the open bathroom door to the hall door, and thence to the desk,
  where a terrible little pool had
  accumulated. Something was scrawled there in pencil in an awful, blind hand on a piece of paper
  hideously smeared as though by
  thevery claws that traced the hurried last words. Then the trail led to the couch and ended unutterably.
   
  What was, or had been, on the couch I cannot and dare not say here. But this is what Ishiveringly
  puzzled out on thestickily
  smearedpaper before I drew a match and burned it to a crisp; what I puzzled out in terror as the landlady
  and two mechanics
  rushedfrantically from that hellish place to babble their incoherent stories at the nearest police station. The
  nauseous words
  seemedwell-nigh incredible in that yellow sunlight, with the clatter of cars and motor trucks ascending
  clamorously from crowded
  Fourteenth Street, yet I confess that I believed them then.Whether I believe them now I honestly do not
  know. There are things
  aboutwhich it is better not to speculate, and all that I can say is that I hate the smell of ammonia, and
  grow faint at a draught of
  unusuallycool air.
   
  "The end," ran that noisome scrawl, "is here. No more ice--the man looked and ran away. Warmer every
  minute, and the tissues
  can'tlast. I fancy you know--what I said about the will and the nerves and the preserved body after the
  organs ceased to work. It
  wasgood theory, but couldn't keep up indefinitely. There was a gradual deterioration I had not foreseen.
  Dr. Torres knew, but the
  shockkilled him. He couldn't stand what he had to do--he had to get me in a strange, dark place when he
  minded my letter and
  nursedme back. And the organs never would work again. It had to be done my way--preservation--for
  you see I died that time
  eighteenyears ago."
  
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