" A small boy's standing in the yard and won't answer me," said the old man, trembling. "He looks like Tom!" "Come to bed, you're dreaming." "But he's there see for yourself." He pulled the door wider to let her see. The cold wind blew and the thin ran fell upon the soil and the figure stood looking at them with distant eyes (Bradbury 159).
"LaFarge helped wife and son from the boat." "Here we are!" Anna smiled at all the lights, listening to the music from the drinking houses, the pianos, the phonographs, watching people, arm and arm, striding by in the crowded streets. "I wish I was home," said Tom "You never talked that way before," said the mother. "You always liked he Saturday nights in town." "Stay close to me," whispered Tom. "I don't want to get trapped" (Bradbury 165).
"As for Tom, he was trembling and shaking violently. He looked very sick. The crowd thickened about him, putting out their wild hands, seizing and demanding. Tom screamed. Before their eyes he changed. He was Tom and James and a man named Switchman, another named Butterfield; he was the town mayor and the young girl Judith and the husband William and the wife Clarisse. They stood over him and put their fingers to their mouths. They bent down. "He's dead," someone said at last" (Bradbury 173).