I thought hed give me a prescription for sleeping pills, but he said he couldnt even do that  I sometimes have an irregular heartbeat, and sleeping pills can make that worse. When did you see him? Early last week. Then, yesterday, my son Harold called me out of a clear blue sky and said he and Janet wanted to take me out to breakfast. Nonsense, I said. I can still get around the kitchen. If youre coming all the way down from Bangor, I said, Ill get up a nice little feed for you, and thats the end of it. Then, after, if you want to take me out  I was thinking of the mall, because I always like to go out there  why, that would be fine. Thats just what I said. She turned to Ralph with a smile that was small and bitter and fierce. It never occurred to me to wonder why both of them were coming to see me on a weekday, when both of them have jobs  and they must really love those jobs, because theyre about all they ever talk about. I just thought how sweet of them it was . . . how thoughtful . . . and I put out a special effort to look nice and do everything right so Janet wouldnt suspect I was having a problem. I think that rankles most of all. Silly old Lois, Our Lois, as Bill always says . . . dont look so surprised, Ralph! Of course I knew about that; did you think I fell off a stump just yesterday? And hes right. I am foolish, I am silly, but that doesnt mean I dont hurt just like anyone else when Im taken advantage of . . . She was beginning to cry again. Of course it doesnt, Ralph said, and patted her hand. You would have laughed if youd seen me, she said, baking fresh squash muffins at four oclock in the morning and slicing mushrooms for an Italian omelette at fourfifteen and starting in with the makeup at fourthirty just to be sure, absolutely sure that Jan wouldnt get going with that Are you sure you feel all right, Mother Lois? stuff. I hate it when she starts in with that crap. And do you know what, Ralph? She knew what was wrong with me all the time. They both did. So I guess the laugh was on me, wasnt it? Ralph thought he had been following closely, but apparently he had lost her on one of the turns. Knew? How could they know? Because Litchfield told them! she shouted. Her face twisted again, but this time it was not hurt or sorrow Ralph saw there but a terrible rueful rage. That tattling son of a bitch called my son on the telephone and TOLD HIM EVERYTHING! Ralph was dumbfounded. Lois, they cant do that, he said when he finally found his voice again. The doctorpatient relationship is . . . well, its privileged. Your son would know all about it, because hes a lawyer, and the same thing applies to them. Doctors cant tell anyone what their patients tell them unless the patient Oh Jesus, Lois said, rolling her eyes. Crippled wheelchair Jesus. What world are you living in, Ralph? Fellows like Litchfield do whatever they think is right. I guess I knew that all along, which makes me doublestupid for going to him at all. Carl Litchfield is a vain, arrogant man who cares more about how he looks in his suspenders and designer shirts than he does about his patients. Thats awfully cynical. And awfully true, thats the sad part. You know what? Hes thirtyfive or thirtysix, and hes somehow gotten the idea that when he hits forty, hes just going to . . . stop. Stay forty for as long as he wants to. Hes got an idea that people are old once they get to be sixty, and that even the best of them are pretty much in their dotage by the age of sixtyeight or so, and that once youre past eighty, itd be a mercy if your relatives would turn you over to that Dr Kevorkian. Children dont have any rights of confidentiality from their parents, and as far as Litchfield is concerned, old poops like us dont have any rights of confidentiality from our kids. It wouldnt be in our best interests, you see. What Carl Litchfield did practically the minute I was out of his examining room was to phone Harold in Bangor. He said I wasnt sleeping, that I was suffering from depression, and that I was having the sort of sensory problems that accompany a premature decline in cognition. And then he said,You have to remember that your mother is getting on in years, Mr Chasse, and if I were you Id think very seriously about her situation down here in Derry. He didnt! Ralph cried, amazed and horrified. I mean . . . did he? Lois was nodding grimly. He said it to Harold and Harold said it to me and now Im saying it to you. Silly old me, I didnt even know what a premature decline in cognition meant, and neither of them wanted to tell me. I looked up cognition in the dictionary, and do you know what it means? Thinking, Ralph said. Cognition is thinking. Right. My doctor called my son to tell him I was going senile! Lois laughed angrily and used Ralphs handkerchief to wipe fresh tears off her cheeks. I cant believe it, Ralph said, but the hell of it was he could. Ever since Carolyns death he had been aware that the navet with which he had regarded the world up until the age of eighteen or so had apparently not departed forever when he crossed the threshold between childhood and manhood; that peculiar innocence seemed to be returning as he stepped over the threshold between manhood and old manhood. Things kept surprising him . . . except surprise was really too mild a word. What a lot of them did was knock him ass over teakettle. The little bottles under the Kissing Bridge, for instance. He had taken a long walk out to Bassey Park one day in July and had gone under the bridge to rest out of the afternoon sun for awhile. He had barely gotten comfortable before noticing a little pile of broken glass in the weeds by the stream that trickled beneath the bridge. He had swept at the high grass with a length of broken branch and discovered six or eight small bottles. One had some crusty white stuff in the bottom. Ralph had picked it up, and as he turned it curiously before his eyes, he realized he was looking at the remains of a crackparty. He had dropped the bottle as if it were hot. He could still remember the numbed shock he had felt, his unsuccessful attempt to convince himself that he was nuts, that it couldnt be what he thought it was, not in this hick town two hundred and fifty miles north of Boston. It was that emerging naf which had been shocked, of course; that part of him seemed to believe (or had until he had discovered the little bottles under the Kissing Bridge) that all those news stories about the cocaine epidemic had just been makebelieve, no more real than a TV crime show or a JeanClaude Van Damme movie. He felt a similar sensation of shock now. Harold said they wanted to run me up to Bangor and show me the place, Lois was saying. He never takes me for rides these days; he just runs me places. Like Im an errand. They had lots of brochures, and when Harold gave Janet the nod, she whipped them out so fast Whoa, slow down. What place? What brochures? Im sorry, Im getting ahead of myself, arent I? Its a place in Bangor called Riverview Estates. Ralph knew the name; had gotten a brochure himself, as a matter of fact. One of those mass mailing things, this one targeted at people sixtyfive and over. He and McGovern had shared a laugh about it . . . but the laugh had been just a touch uneasy  like kids whistling past the graveyard. Shit, Lois  thats a retirement home, isnt it? No, sir! she said, widening her eyes innocently. Thats what I said, but Harold and Janet set me straight. No, Ralph, Riverview Estates is a condominium development site for communityoriented senior citizens! When Harold said that I said, Is that so? Well, let me tell you both something  you can put a fruit pie from McDonalds in a sterlingsilver chafing dish and call it a French tart, but its still just a fruit pie from McDonalds, as far as I am concerned. When I said that, Harold started to sputter and get red in the face, but Jan just gave me that sweet little smile of hers, the one she saves up for special occasions because she knows it drives me crazy. She says, Well, why dont we look at the brochures anyway. Mother Lois? Youll do that much, wont you, after we both took Personal Days from work and drove all the way down here to see you? Like Derry was in the heart of Africa, Ralph muttered. Lois took his hand and said something that made him laugh. Oh, to her it is! Was this before or after you found out Litchfield had tattled? Ralph asked. He used the same word Lois had on purpose; it seemed to fit this situation better than a fancier word or phrase would have done. Committed a breach of confidentiality was far too dignified for this nasty bit of work. Litchfield had run and tattled, simple as that. Before. I thought I might as well look at the brochures; after all, theyd come forty miles, and it wouldnt exactly kill me. So I looked while they ate the food Id fixed  there wasnt any that had to be scraped into the swill later on, either  and drank coffee. Thats quite a place, that Riverview. They have their own medical staff on duty twentyfour hours a day, and their own kitchen. When you move in they give you a complete physical and decide what you can have to eat. Theres a Red Diet Plan, a Blue Diet Plan, a Green Diet Plan, and a Yellow Diet Plan. There were three or four other colors as well. I cant remember what all of them were, but Yellow is for diabetics and Blue is for fatties. Ralph thought of eating three scientifically balanced meals a day for the rest of his life  no more sausage pizzas from Gambinos, no more Coffee Pot sandwiches, no more chiliburgers from Mexico Milts  and found the prospect almost unbearably grim. Also, Lois said brightly, they have a pneumatictube system that delivers your daily pills right to your kitchen. Isnt that a marvellous idea, Ralph? I guess so, Ralph said. Oh, yes, it is. Its marvellous, the wave of the future. Theres a computer to oversee everything, and I bet it never has a decline in cognition. Theres a special bus that takes the Riverview people to places of scenic or cultural interest twice a week, and it also takes them shopping. You have to take the bus, because Riverview people arent allowed to have cars. Good idea, he said, giving her hand a little squeeze. What are a few drunks on Saturday night compared to an old fogey with a slippery cognition on the loose in a Buick sedan? She didnt smile, as he had hoped she would. The pictures in those brochures turned my blood. Old ladies playing canasta. Old men throwing horseshoes. Both flavors together in this big pinepanelled room they call the River Hall, squaredancing. Although that is sort of a nice name, dont you think? River Hall? I guess its okay. I think it sounds like the kind of room youd find in an enchanted castle. But Ive visited quite a few old friends in Strawberry Fields  thats the geriatrics home in Skowhegan  and I know an old folks rec room when I see one. It doesnt matter how pretty a name you give it, theres still a cabinet full of board games in the corner and jigsaw puzzles with five or six pieces missing from each one and the TVs always tuned to something like Family Feud and never to the kind of movies where goodlooking young people take off their clothes and roll around on the floor together in front of the fireplace. Those rooms always smell of paste . . . and piss . . . and the fiveanddime watercolors that come in a long tin box . . . and despair. Lois looked at him with her dark eyes. Im only sixtyeight, Ralph. I know that sixtyeight doesnt seem like only anything to Dr Fountain of Youth, but it does to me, because my mother was ninetytwo when she died last year and my dad lived to be eightysix. In my family, dying at eighty is dying young . . . and if I had to spend twelve years living in a place where they announce dinner over the loudspeaker, Id go crazy. I would, too. I looked, though. I wanted to be polite. When I was finished, I made a neat little pile of them and handed them back to Jan. I said they were very interesting and thanked her. She nodded and smiled and put them back in her purse. I thought that was going to be the end of it and good riddance, but then Harold said, Put your coat on, Ma. For a second I was so scared I couldnt breathe. I thought theyd already signed me up! And I had an idea that if I said I wasnt going, Harold would open the door and there would be two or three men in white coats outside, and one of them would smile and say, Dont worry, Mrs Chasse; once you get that first handful of pills delivered direct to your kitchen, youll never want to live anywhere else. I dont want to put my coat on, I told Harold, and I tried to sound the way I used to when he was only ten and always tracking mud into the kitchen, but my heart was beating so hard I could hear it tapping in my voice. Ive changed my mind about going out. I forgot how much I had to do today. And then Jan gave the laugh I hate even more than her syrupy little smile and said,Why, Mother Lois, what would you have to do thats so important you cant go up to Bangor with us after weve taken time off to come down to Derry and see you? That woman always gets my back hair up, and I guess I do the same to her. I must, because Ive never in my life known one woman to smile that much at another without hating her guts. Anyway, I told her I had to wash the kitchen floor, to start with. Just look at it, I said. Dirty as the devil. Huh! Harold says. I cant believe youre going to send us back to the city emptyhanded after we came all the way down here, Ma. Well Im not moving into that place no matter how far you came, I said back, so you can get that idea right out of your head. Ive been living in Derry for thirtyfive years, half my life. All my friends are here, and Im not moving. They looked at each other the way parents do when theyve got a kid whos stopped being cute and started being a pain in the tail. Janet patted my shoulder and said, Now dont get all upset, Mother Lois  we only want you to come and look. Like it was the brochures again, and all I had to do was be polite. Just the same, her saying it was just to look set my mind at ease a little. I should have known they couldnt make me live there, or even afford it on their own. Its Mr Chasses money theyre counting on to swing it  his pension and the railroad insurance I got because he died on the job. It turned out they had an appointment all made for eleven oclock, and a man lined up to show me around and give me the whole pitch. I was mostly over being scared by the time I got all that straight in my mind, but I was hurt by the highhanded way they were treating me, and mad at how every other thing out of Janets mouth was Personal Days this and Personal Days that. It was pretty clear that she could think of a lot better ways to spend a day off than coming to Derry to see her fat old bag of a motherinlaw. Stop fluttering and come on, Mother, she says after a little more backandforth, like I was so pleased with the whole idea I couldnt even decide which hat to wear. Hop into your coat. Ill help you clean up the breakfast things when we get back. You didnt hear me, I said. Im not going anywhere. Why waste a beautiful fall day like this touring a place Ill never live in? And what gives you the right to drive down here and give me this kind of bums rush in the first place? Why didnt one of you at least call and say, We have an idea, Mom, want to hear it? Isnt that how you would have treated one of your friends? And when I said that, they traded another glance . . . Lois sighed, wiped her eyes a final time, and gave back Ralphs handkerchief, damper but otherwise none the worse for wear. Well, I knew from that look that we hadnt reached bottom yet. Mostly it was the way Harold looked  like he did when hed just hooked a handful of chocolate bits out of the bag in the pantry. And Janet . . . she gave him back the expression I dislike most of all. Her bulldozer look, I call it. And then she asked him if he wanted to tell me what the doctor had said, or if she should do it. In the end they both told it, and by the time they were done I was so mad and scared that I felt like yanking my hair out by the roots. The thing I just couldnt seem to get over no matter how hard I tried was the thought of Carl Litchfield telling Harold all the things I thought were private. Just calling him up and telling him, like there was nothing in the world wrong with it. So you think Im senile? I asked Harold. Is that what it comes down to? You and Jan think Ive gone soft in the attic at the advanced age of sixtyeight? Harold got red in the face and started shuffling his feet under his chair and muttering under his breath. Something about how he didnt think any such thing, but he had to consider my safety, just like Id always considered his when he was growing up. And all the time Janet was sitting at the counter, nibbling a muffin and giving him a look I could have killed her for  as if she thought he was just a cockroach that had learned to talk like a lawyer. Then she got up and asked if she could use the facility. I told her to go ahead, and managed to keep from saying it would be a relief to have her out of the room for two minutes. Thanks, Mother Lois, she says. I wont be long. Harry and I have to leave soon. If you feel you cant come with us and keep your appointment, then I guess theres nothing more to say. What a peach, Ralph said. Well, that was the end of it for me; Id had enough. I keep my appointments, Janet Chasse, I said, but only the ones I make for myself. I dont give a fart in a high wind for the ones other people make for me. She tossed up her hands like I was the most unreasonable woman who ever walked the face of the earth, and left me with Harold. He was looking at me with those big brown eyes of his, like he expected me to apologize. I almost felt like I should apologize, too, if only to get that cocker spaniel look off his face, but I didnt. I wouldnt. I just looked back at him, and after awhile he couldnt stand it anymore and told me I ought to stop being mad. He said he was just worried about me down here all by myself, that he was only trying to be a good son and Janet was only trying to be a good daughter. I guess I understand that, I said, but you should know that sneaking around behind a persons back is no way to express love and concern. He got all stiff then, and said he and Jan didnt see it as sneaking around. He cut his eyes toward the bathroom for a second or two when he said it, and I pretty much got the idea that what he meant was Jan didnt see it as sneaking around. Then he told me it wasnt the way I was making it out to be  that Litchfield had called him, not the other way around. All right, I said back, but what kept you from hanging up once you realized what hed called to talk to you about? That was just plain wrong, Harry. What in Gods good name got into you? He started to flutter and flap around  I think he might even have been starting to apologize  when Jan came back and the youknowwhat really hit the fan. She asked where my diamond earrings were, the ones theyd given me for Christmas. It was such a change of direction that at first I could only sputter, and I suppose I sounded like I was going senile. But finally I managed to say they were in the little china dish on my bedroom bureau, same as always. I have a jewelry box, but I keep those earrings and two or three other nice pieces out because they are so pretty that looking at them always cheers me up. Besides, theyre only clusters of diamond chips  its not like anyone would want to break in just to steal those. Same with my engagement ring and my ivory cameo, which are the other two pieces I keep in that dish. Lois gave Ralph an intense, pleading look. He squeezed her hand again. She smiled and took a deep breath. This is very hard for me. If you want to stop No, I want to finish . . . except that, past a certain point, I cant remember what happened, anyway. It was all so horrible. You see, Janet said she knew where I kept them, but they werent there. My engagement ring was, and the cameo, but not my Christmas earrings. I went in to check myself, and she was right. We turned the place upside down, looked everywhere, but we didnt find them. Theyre gone. Lois was now gripping Ralphs hands in both of her own, and seemed to be talking mostly to the zipper of his jacket. We took all the clothes out of the bureau . . . Harold pulled the bureau itself out from the wall and looked behind it . . . under the bed and the sofa cushions . . . and it seemed like every time I looked at Janet, she was looking back at me, giving me that sweet, wideeyed look of hers. Sweet as melting butter, it is  except in the eyes, anyway  and she didnt have to come right out and say what she was thinking, because I already knew. You see? You see how right Dr Litchfield was to call us, and how right we were to make that appointment? And how pigheaded youre being? Because you need to be in a place like Riverview Estates, and this just proves it. Youve lost the lovely earrings we gave you for Christmas, youre having a serious decline in cognition, and this just proves it. It wont be long before youre leaving the stoveburners on . . . or the bathroom heater . . . She began to cry again, and these tears made Ralphs heart hurt  they were the deep, scouring sobs of someone who has been shamed to the deepest level of her being. Lois hid her face against his jacket. He tightened his arm around her. Lois, he thought. Our Lois. But no; he didnt like the sound of that anymore, if he ever had. My Lois, he thought, and at that instant, as if some greater power had approved, the day began to fill with light again. Sounds took on a new resonance. He looked down at his hands and Loiss, entwined on her lap, and saw a lovely bluegray nimbus around them, the color of cigarette smoke. The auras had returned. 3 You should have sent them away the minute you realized the earrings were gone, he heard himself say, and each word was separate and gorgeously unique, like a crystal thunderclap. The very second. Oh, I know that now, Lois said. She was just waiting for me to stick my foot in my mouth, and of course I obliged. But I was so upset  first the argument about whether or not I was going to Bangor with them to look at Riverview Estates, then hearing my doctor had told them things he had no right to tell them, and on top of all that, finding out Id lost one of my most treasured possessions. And do you know what the cherry on top was? Having her be the one to discover those earrings were gone! Do you blame me for not knowing what to do? No,he said, and lifted her gloved hands to his mouth. The sound of them passing through the air was like the hoarse whisper of a palm sliding down a wool blanket, and for a moment he clearly saw the shape of his lips on the back of her right glove, printed there in a blue kiss. Lois smiled. Thank you, Ralph. Welcome. I suppose you have a pretty good idea of how things turned out, dont you? Jan said, You really should take better care, Mother Lois, only Dr Litchfield says youve come to a time of life when you really cant take better care, and thats why weve been thinking about Riverview Estates. Im sorry we ruffled your feathers, but it seemed important to move quickly. Now you see why. Ralph looked up. Overhead, the sky was a cataract of greenblue fire filled with clouds that looked like chrome airboats. He looked down the hill and saw Rosalie still lying between the Portosans. The dark gray balloonstring rose from her snout, wavering in the cool October breeze. I got really mad, then  She broke off and smiled. Ralph thought it was the first smile hed seen from her today which expressed real humor instead of some less pleasant and more complicated emotion. No  thats not right. I did more than just get mad. If my greatnephew had been there, he would have said, Nana went nuclear. Ralph laughed and Lois laughed with him, but her half sounded a trifle forced. What galls me is that Janet knew I would, she said. She wanted me to go nuclear, I think, because she knew how guilty Id feel later on. And God knows I do. I screamed at them to get the hell out. Harold looked like he wanted to sink right through the floorboards  shouting has always made him so embarrassed  but Jan just sat there with her hands folded in her lap, smiling and actually nodding her head, as if to say Thats right, Mother Lois, you go on and get all that nasty old poison out of your system, and when its gone, maybe youll be ready to hear sense. Lois took a deep breath. Then something happened. Im not sure just what. This wasnt the first time, either, but it was the worst time. Im afraid it was some kind of . . . well . . . some kind of seizure. Anyway, I started to see Janet in a really funny way . . . a really scary way. And I said something that finally got to her. I cant remember what it was, and Im not sure I want to know, but it certainly wiped that sweetysweetysweet smile I hate so much off her face. In fact, she just about dragged Harold out. The last thing I remember her saying is that one of them would call me when I wasnt so hysterical that I couldnt help making ugly accusations about the people who loved me. I stayed in my house for a little while after they were gone, and then I came out to sit in the park. Sometimes just sitting in the sun makes a body feel better. I stopped in the Red Apple for a snack, and thats when I heard you and Bill had a fight. Are you and he really on the outs, do you think? Ralph shook his head. Nah  well make it up. I really like Bill, but  but you have to be careful what you say with him, she finished. Also, Ralph, may I add that you cant take what he says back to you too seriously? This time it was Ralph who gave their linked hands a squeeze. That might be good advice for you, too, Lois  you shouldnt take what happened this morning too seriously. She sighed. Maybe, but its hard not to. I said some terrible things at the end, Ralph. Terrible. That awful smile of hers . . . A rainbow of understanding suddenly hit Ralphs consciousness. In its glow he saw a very large thing, so large it seemed both unquestionable and preordained. He fully faced Lois for the first time since the auras had returned to him . . . or since he had returned to them. She sat in a capsule of translucent gray light as bright as fog on a summer morning which is about to turn sunny. It transformed the woman Bill McGovern called Our Lois into a creature of great dignity . . . and almost unbearable beauty. She looks like Eos, he thought. Goddess of the dawn. Lois stirred uneasily on the bench. Ralph? Why are you looking at me that way? Because youre beautiful, and because Ive fallen in love with you, Ralph thought, amazed. Right now Im so in love with you that I feel as if Im drowning, and the dyings fine. Because you remember exactly what you said. She began to play nervously with the clasp of her purse again. No, I Yes you do. You told your daughterinlaw that she took your earrings. She did it because she realized you were going to stick to your guns about not going with them, and not getting what she wants makes your daughterinlaw crazy . . . it makes her go nuclear. She did it because you pissed her off. Isnt that about the size of it? Lois was looking at him with round, frightened eyes. How do you know that, Ralph? How do you know that about her? I know it because you know it, and you know it because you saw it. Oh, no, she whispered. No, I didnt see anything. I was in the kitchen with Harold the whole time. Not then, not when she did it, but when she came back. You saw it in her and all around her. As he himself now saw Harold Chasses wife in Lois, as if the woman sitting beside him on the bench had become a lens. Janet Chasse was tall, fairskinned, and longwaisted. Her cheeks were spattered with freckles she covered with makeup, and her hair was a vivid, gingery shade of red. This morning she had come to Derry with that fabulous hair lying over one shoulder in a bulky braid like a sheaf of copper wire. What else did he know about this woman he had never met? Everything, everything. She covers her freckles with pancake because she thinks they make her look childish; that people dont take women with freckles seriously. Her legs are beautiful and she knows it. She wears short skirts to work, but today when she came to see (the old bitch) Mother Lois, she was wearing a cardigan and an old pair of jeans. Derry dressdowns. Her period is overdue. Shes reached that time of life when it doesnt come as regular as clockwork anymore, and during that uneasy two or threeday pause she suffers through every month, a pause when the whole world seems made of glass and everyone in it seems either stupid or wicked, her behavior and her moods have become erratic. Thats probably the real reason she did what she did. Ralph saw her coming out of Loiss tiny bathroom. Saw her shoot an intense, furious glance toward the kitchen door  there is no sign of the sweetysweetysweet smile on that narrow, intense face now  and then scoop the earrings out of the china dish. Saw her cram them into the left front pocket of her jeans. No, Lois had not actually witnessed this small, ugly theft, but it had changed the color of Jan Chasses aura from pale green to a complex, layered pattern of browns and reds which Lois had seen and understood at once, probably without the slightest idea of what was really happening to her. She took them, all right, Ralph said. He could see a gray mist drifting dreamily across the pupils of Loiss wide eyes. He could have looked at it for the rest of the day. Yes, but If youd agreed to keep the appointment at Riverview Estates after all, I bet you would have found them again after her next visit . . . or she would have found them, I guess thats more likely. Just a lucky accident  Oh, Mother Lois, come see what I found! Under the bathroom sink, or in a closet, or lying in some dark corner. Yes. She was looking into his face now, fascinated, almost hypnotized. She must feel terrible . . . and she wont dare bring them back, will she? Not after the things I said. Ralph, how did you know? The same way you did. How long have you been seeing the auras, Lois? 4 Auras? I dont know what you mean. Except she did. Litchfield told your son about the insomnia, but I doubt if that alone would have been enough to get even Litchfield to . . . you know, tattle. The other thing  what you said he called sensory problems  went right by me. I was too amazed by the idea of anyone thinking you could possibly be prematurely senile, I guess, even though Ive been having my own sensory problems lately. You! Yes, maam. Then, just a little bit ago, you said something even more interesting. You said you started to see Janet in a really funny way. A really scary way. You couldnt remember what you said just before the two of them walked out, but you knew exactly how you felt. Youre seeing the other part of the world  the rest of the world. Shapes around things, shapes inside things, sounds within sounds. I call it the world of auras, and thats what youre experiencing. Isnt it, Lois? She looked at him silently for a moment, then put her hands over her face. I thought I was losing my mind, she said, and then said it again Oh Ralph, I thought I was losing my mind. 5 He hugged her, then let her go and tilted her chin up. No more tears, he said. I didnt bring a spare hanky. No more tears, she agreed, but her eyes were already brimming again. Ralph, if you only knew how awful its been I do know. She smiled radiantly. Yes . . . you do, dont you? What made that idiot Litchfield decide you were slipping into senility  except Alzheimers is probably what he had in mind  wasnt just insomnia but insomnia accompanied by something else . . . something he decided were hallucinations.


Right? I guess, but he didnt say anything like that at the time. When I told him about the things Id been seeing  the colors and all  he seemed very understanding. Uhhuh, and the minute you were out the door he called your son and told him to get the hell down to Derry and do something about old Mom, whos started seeing people walking around in colored envelopes with long balloonstrings floating up from their heads. You see those, too? Ralph, you see those, too? Me too, he said, and laughed. It sounded a bit loonlike, and he wasnt surprised. There were a hundred things he wanted to ask her; he felt crazed with impatience. And there was something else, something so unexpected he hadnt even been able to identify it at first he was horny. Not just interested; actually horny. Lois was crying again. Her tears were the color of mist on a still lake, and they smoked a little as they slipped down her cheeks. Ralph knew they would taste dark and mossy, like fiddleheads in spring. Ralph . . . this . . . this is . . . oh my! Bigger than Michael Jackson at the SuperBowl, isnt it? She laughed weakly. Well, just . . . you know, just a little. Theres a name for whats happening to us, Lois, and its not insomnia or senility or Alzheimers Disease. Its hyperreality. Hyperreality, she murmured. God, what an exotic word! Yes, it is. A pharmacist down the street at Rite Aid, Joe Wyzer, told it to me. Only theres a lot more to it than he knew. More than anyone in their right minds would guess. Yes, like telepathy . . . if its really happening, that is. Ralph, are we in our right minds? Did your daughterinlaw take your earrings? I . . . she . . . yes. Lois straightened. Yes, she did. No doubts? No. Then youve answered your own question. Were sane, all right . . . but I think youre wrong about the telepathy part. It isnt minds we read, but auras. Listen, Lois, theres all sorts of things I want to ask you, but I have an idea that right now theres only one thing I really have to know. Have you seen  He stopped abruptly, wondering if he really wanted to say what was on the tip of his tongue. Have I seen what? Okay. This is going to sound crazier than anything youve told me, but Im not crazy. Do you believe that? Im not. I believe you, she said simply, and Ralph felt a vast weight slip from his heart. She was telling the truth. There was no question about it; her belief shone all around her. Okay, listen. Since this started happening to you, have you seen certain people who dont look like they belong on Harris Avenue? People who dont look like they belong anywhere in the ordinary world? Lois was looking at him with puzzled incomprehension. Theyre bald, theyre very short, they wear white smock tops, and what they look like more than anything are the drawings of space aliens they sometimes have on the front pages of those tabloid newspapers they sell in the Red Apple. You havent seen anyone like that when youve been having one of these hyperreality attacks? No, no one. He banged a fist on his leg in frustration, thought for a moment, then looked up again. Monday morning, he said. Before the cops showed up at Mrs Lochers . . . did you see me? Very slowly, Lois nodded her head. Her aura had darkened slightly, and spirals of scarlet, thin as threads, began to twist slowly up through it on a diagonal. I imagine you have a pretty good idea of who called the police, then, Ralph said. Dont you? Oh, I know it was you, Lois said in a small voice. I suspected before, but I wasnt sure until just now. Until I saw it . . . you know, in your colors. In my colors, he thought. It was what Ed had called them, too. But you didnt see two pintsized versions of Mr Clean come out of her house? No, she said, but that doesnt mean anything. I cant even see Mrs Lochers house from my bedroom window. The Red Apples roof is in the way. Ralph laced his hands together on top of his head. Of course it was, and he should have known it. The reason I thought you called the police is that just before I went to take a shower, I saw you looking at something through a pair of binoculars. I never saw you do that before, but I thought maybe you just wanted a better look at the stray dog who raids the garbage cans on Thursday mornings. She pointed down the hill. Him. Ralph grinned. Thats no him, thats the gorgeous Rosalie. Oh. Anyway, I was in the shower a long time, because theres a special rinse I put in my hair. Not color, she said sharply, as if he had accused her of this, just proteins and things that are supposed to keep it looking a little thicker. When I came out, the police were flocking all around. I looked over your way once, but I couldnt see you anymore. Youd either gone into a different room or kind of scrunched back in your chair. You do that, sometimes. Ralph shook his head as if to clear it. He hadnt been in an empty theater on all those nights, after all; someone else had been there, too. They had just been in separate boxes. Lois, the fight Bill and I had wasnt really about chess. It Down the hill, Rosalie voiced a rusty bark and began struggling to her feet. Ralph looked in that direction and felt an icicle slip into his belly. Although the two of them had been sitting here for going on half an hour and no one had even come near the comfort stations at the bottom of the hill, the pressed plastic door of the Portosan marked MEN was now slowly opening. Doc 3 emerged from it. McGoverns hat, the Panama with the crescent bitten in the brim, was cocked back on his head, making him look weirdly as McGovern had on the day Ralph had first seen him in his brown fedora  like an enquiring newshawk in a forties crime drama. Upraised in one hand the bald stranger held the rusty scalpel. CHAPTER THIRTEEN 1 Lois? To Ralphs own ears, his voice seemed to be an echo winding down a long, deep canyon. Lois, do you see that? I dont Her voice broke off. Did the wind blow that bathroom door open? It didnt, did it? Is someone there? Is that why the dogs making that racket? Rosalie backed slowly away from the bald man, her ragged ears laid back, her muzzle wrinkled to expose teeth so badly eroded that they were not much more menacing than hard rubber pegs. She uttered a cracked volley of barks, then began to whine desperately. Yes! Dont you see him, Lois? Look! Hes right there! Ralph got to his feet. Lois got up with him, shielding her eyes with one hand. She peered down the slope with desperate intensity. I see a shimmer, thats all. Like the air over an incinerator. I told you to leave her alone! Ralph shouted down the hill. Quit it! Get the hell out! The bald man looked in Ralphs direction, but there was no surprise in the glance this time; it was casual, dismissive. He raised the middle finger of his right hand, flicked it at Ralph in the ancient salute, then bared his own teeth  much sharper and much more menacing than Rosalies  in a silent laugh. Rosalie cringed as the little man in the dirty smock began to walk toward her again, then actually raised a paw and put it on her own head, a cartoonish gesture that should have been funny and was horribly expressive of her terror instead. What cant I see, Ralph? Lois moaned. I see something, but Get AWAY from her! Ralph shouted, and raised his hand in that karatechop gesture again. The hand inside  the hand which earlier had produced that wedge of tight blue light  still felt like an unloaded gun, however, and this time the bald doc seemed to know it. He glanced in Ralphs direction and offered a small, jeering wave. [Aw, quit it. Shorts  sit back, shut up, and enjoy the show.] The creature at the foot of the hill returned his attention to Rosalie, who sat huddled at the base of an old pine. The tree was emitting a thin green fog from the cracks in its bark. The bald doctor bent over Rosalie, one hand outstretched in a gesture of solicitude that went very badly with the scalpel curled into his left fist. Rosalie whined . . . then stretched her neck forward and humbly licked the bald creatures palm. Ralph looked down at his own hands, sensing something in them  not the power hed had before, nothing like that, but something. Suddenly there were snaps of clear white light dancing just above his nails. It was as if his fingers had been turned into sparkplugs. Lois was grabbing frantically at him now. Whats wrong with the dog? Ralph, whats wrong with it? With no thought about what he was doing or why, Ralph put his hands over Loiss eyes, like someone playing Guess Who with a loved one. His fingers flashed a momentary white so bright it was almost blinding. Must be the white theyre always talking about in the detergent commercials, he thought. Lois screamed. Her hands flew to his wrists, clamped on them, then loosened. My God, Ralph, what did you do to me? He took his hands away and saw a glowing figureeight surrounding her eyes; it was as if she had just taken off a pair of goggles which had been dipped in confectioners sugar. The white began to dim almost as soon as his hands were gone . . . except . . . Its not dimming, he thought. Its sinking in. Never mind, he said, and pointed. Look! The widening of her eyes told him what he needed to know. Doc 3, completely unmoved by Rosalies desperate effort to make friends, shoved her muzzle aside with the hand holding the scalpel. He seized the old bandanna hanging around her neck in his other hand and yanked her head up. Rosalie howled miserably. Slobber ran back along the sides of her face. The bald man voiced a scabrous chuckle that made Ralphs flesh crawl. [Hi! Leave off! Leave off teasing that dog!] The bald mans head snapped around. The grin ran off his face and he snarled at Lois, sounding a little like a dog himself. [Yahh, go fuck yourself, you fat old ShortTime cunt! Dogs mine, just like I already told your limpdick boyfriend!] The bald man had let go of the blue bandanna when Lois shouted at him, and Rosalie was now cringing back against the pine again, her eyes rolling, curds of foam dripping from the sides of her muzzle. Ralph had never seen such a completely terrified creature in his life. Run! Ralph screamed. Get away! She seemed not to hear him, and after a moment Ralph realized she wasnt hearing him, because Rosalie was no longer entirely there. The bald doctor had done something to her already  had pulled her at least partway out of ordinary reality like a farmer using his tractor and a length of chain to pull a stump. Ralph tried once more, anyway. [Run, Rosalie! Run away!] This time her laidback ears cocked forward and her head began to turn in Ralphs direction. He didnt know if she would have obeyed him or not, because the bald man renewed his hold on the bandanna before she could even begin to move. He yanked her head up again. Hes going to kill it! Lois screamed. Hes going to cut its throat with that thing he has! Dont let him, Ralph! Make him stop! I cant! Maybe you can! Shoot him! Shoot your hand at him! She looked at him, not understanding. Ralph made frantic woodchopping gestures with his right hand, but before Lois could respond, Rosalie gave a dreadful lost howl. The bald doc raised the scalpel and brought it down, but it wasnt Rosalies throat he cut. He cut her balloonstring. 2 A thread emerged from each of Rosalies nostrils and floated upward. They twined together about six inches above her snout, making a delicate pigtail, and it was at this point that Baldy 3s scalpel did its work. Ralph watched, frozen with horror, as the severed pigtail rose into the sky like the string of a released helium balloon. It was unravelling as it went. He thought it would tangle in the branches of the old pine, but it didnt. When the ascending balloonstring finally did meet one of the branches, it simply passed through. Of course, Ralph thought. The same way this guys buddies walked through May Lochers locked front door after they finished doing the same thing to her. This idea was followed by a thought too simple and gruesomely logical not to be believed not spacealiens, not little bald doctors, but Centurions. Ed Deepneaus Centurions. They didnt look like the Roman soldiers you saw in tinpants epics like Spartacus and Ben Hur, true, but they had to be Centurions . . . didnt they? Sixteen or twenty feet above the ground, Rosalies balloonstring simply faded away to nothingness. Ralph looked back down in time to see the bald dwarf pull the faded blue bandanna off over the dogs head and then push her down at the base of the tree. Ralph looked at her more closely and felt all his flesh shrink closer to his bones. His dream of Carolyn recurred with cruel intensity, and he found himself struggling to bottle up a shriek of terror. Thats right, Ralph, dont scream. You dont want to do that because once you start, you might not be able to stop  you might just go on doing it until your throat bursts. Remember Lois, because shes in this now, too. Remember Lois and dont start screaming. Ah, but it was hard not to, because the dreambugs which had come spewing out of Carolyns head were now pouring from Rosalies nostrils in writhing black streams. Those arent bugs. I dont know what they are, but they are not bugs. No, not bugs  just another kind of aura. Nightmarish black stuff, neither liquid nor gas, was pumping out of Rosalie with each exhaled breath. It did not float away but instead began to surround her in slow, nasty coils of antilight. That blackness should have hidden her from view, but it didnt. Ralph could see her pleading, terrified eyes as the darkness gathered around her head and then began to ooze down her back and sides and legs. It was a deathbag, a real deathbag this time, and he was watching as Rosalie, her balloonstring now cut, wove it relentlessly about herself like a poisonous placental sac. This metaphor triggered the voice of Ed Deepneau inside his head, Ed saying that the Centurions were ripping babies from the wombs of their mothers and taking them away in covered trucks. Ever wonder what was under most of those tarps? Ed had asked. Doc 3 stood grinning down at Rosalie. Then he united the knot in her bandanna and put it around his own neck, tying it in a big, loose knot, making it look like a bohemian artists necktie. This done, he looked up at Ralph and Lois with an expression of loathsome complacency. There! his look said. I took care of my business after all, and there wasnt a damned thing you could do about it, was there? [Do something, Ralph! Please do something! Make him stop!] Too late for that, but maybe not too late to send him packing before he could enjoy the sight of Rosalie dropping dead at the foot of the tree. He was pretty sure Lois couldnt produce a karatechop of blue light as he had done, but maybe she could do something else. Yes  she can shoot him in her own way. He didnt know why he was so sure of that, but suddenly he was. He grabbed Lois by the shoulders to make her look at him, then raised his right hand. He cocked his thumb and pointed his forefinger at the bald man. He looked like a small child playing cops and robbers. Lois responded with a look of dismay and incomprehension. Ralph grabbed her hand and stripped off her glove. [You! You, Lois!] She got the idea, raised her own hand, extended her forefinger, and made the childs shooting gesture Pow! Pow! Two compact lozenge shapes, their grayblue shade identical to Loiss aura but much brighter, flew from the end of her finger and streaked down the hill. Doc 3 screeched and leaped upward, fisted hands held at shoulder height, the heels of his black shoes clipping against his buttocks, as the first of these bullets went under him. It struck the ground, rebounded like a flat stone skipped across the surface of a pond, and hit the Portosan marked WOMEN. For a moment the entire front of it glowed fiercely, as the window of the BuffyBuffy had done. The second bluegray pellet clipped the baldys left hip and ricocheted up into the sky. He screamed  a high, chattery sound that seemed to twist like a worm in the middle of Ralphs head. Ralph raised his hands to his ears even though it could do no good, and saw Lois doing the same thing. He felt sure that if that scream went on for long, it would burst his head open just as surely as high C shatters fine crystal. Doc 3 fell to the needlecarpeted ground beside Rosalie and rolled back and forth, howling and holding his hip the way a small child will hold the place he banged when he tumbled off his tricycle. After a few moments of this, his cries began to diminish and he scrambled to his feet. His eyes blazed at them from below the white expanse of his brow. Bills Panama was tilted far back on his head now, and the left side of his smock was black and smoking. [Ill get you! Ill get you both! Goddam interfering ShortTime fucks! ILL GET YOU BOTH!] He whirled and bounded down the path which led to the playground and the tennis courts, running in big flying leaps like an astronaut on the moon. Loiss shot didnt appear to have done any real damage, judging by his speed afoot. Lois seized Ralphs shoulder and shook him. As she did, the auras began to fade again. [The children! Its going toward the chi ] She was fading out, and that seemed to make perfect sense, because he suddenly saw that Lois wasnt really talking at all, only staring at him fixedly with her dark eyes as she clutched his shoulder. I cant hear you! he yelled. Lois, I cant hear you! Whats wrong, are you deaf? Its going toward the playground! Toward the children! We cant let it hurt the children! Ralph let out a deep, shuddering sigh. It wont. How can you be sure? I dont know. I just am. I shot it. She turned her finger toward her face, for a moment looking like a woman who mimes suicide. I shot it with my finger. Uhhuh. It stung him, too. Hard, from the way he looked. I cant see the colors anymore, Ralph. He nodded. They come and go, like radio stations at night. I dont know how I feel . . . I dont even know how I want to feel! She wailed this last, and Ralph folded her into his arms. In spite of everything that was going on in his life right now, one fact registered very clearly it was wonderful to be holding a woman again. Thats okay, he told her, and pressed his face against the top of her head. Her hair smelled sweet, with none of the underlying murk of beautyshop chemicals hed gotten used to in Carolyns hair over the last ten or fifteen years of their life together. Let go of it for now, okay? She looked at him. He could no longer see the faint mist drifting across her pupils, but felt sure it was still there. And besides, they were very pretty eyes even without the extra added attraction. Whats it for, Ralph? Do you know what its for? He shook his head. His mind was whirling with jigsaw pieces  hats, docs, bugs, protest signs, dolls that exploded in splatters of fake blood  that would not fit together. And for the time being, at least, the thing that seemed to recur with the most resonance was Old Dors nonsense saying Donebuncantbeundone. Ralph had an idea that was nothing but the truth. 3 A sad little whine came to his ears and Ralph looked down the hill. Rosalie was lying at the base of the big pine, trying to get up. Ralph could no longer see the black bag around her, but he was sure it was still there. Oh Ralph, the poor thing! What can we do? There was nothing they could do. Ralph was sure of it. He took Loiss right hand in both of his and waited for Rosalie to lie back and die. Instead of that, she gave a wholebody lurch that sent her so strongly to her feet that she almost toppled over the other way. She stood still for a moment, her head held so low her muzzle was almost on the ground, and then sneezed three or four times. With that out of the way, she shook herself and looked up at Ralph and Lois. She yapped at them once, a short, brisk sound. To Ralph it sounded as if she were telling them to quit worrying. Then she turned and made off through a little grove of pine trees toward the parks lower entrance. Before Ralph lost sight of her, she had achieved the limping yet insouciant trot which was her trademark. The bum leg was no better than it had been before Doc 3s interference, but it seemed no worse. Clearly old but seemingly a long way from dead (Just like the rest of the Harris Avenue Old Crocks, Ralph thought), she disappeared into the trees. I thought that thing was going to kill her, Lois said. In fact, I thought it had killed her. Me too, Ralph said. Ralph, did all that really happen? It did, didnt it? Yes. The balloonstrings . . . do you think theyre lifelines? He nodded slowly. Yes. Like umbilical cords. And Rosalie . . . He thought back to his first real experience with the auras, of how hed stood outside the Rite Aid with his back to the blue mailbox and his jaw hanging down almost to his breastbone. Of the sixty or seventy people he had observed before the auras faded again, only a few had been walking inside the dark envelopes he now thought of as deathbags, and the one Rosalie had knitted around herself just now had been blacker by far than any he had seen that day. Still, those people in the parking lot whose auras had been dingydark had invariably looked unwell . . . like Rosalie, whose aura had been the color of old sweatsocks even before Baldy 3 started messing with her. Maybe he just hurried up what may otherwise be a perfectly natural process, he thought. Ralph? Lois asked. What about Rosalie? I think my old friend Rosalie is living on borrowed time now, Ralph said. Lois considered this, looking down the hill and into the sundusty grove where Rosalie had disappeared. At last she turned to Ralph again. That midget with the scalpel was one of the men you saw coming out of May Lochers house, wasnt he? No. Those were two other ones. Have you seen more? No. Do you think there are more? I dont know. He had an idea that next shed ask if Ralph had noticed that the creature had been wearing Bills Panama, but she didnt. Ralph supposed it was possible she hadnt recognized it. Too much weirdness swirling around, and besides, there hadnt been a chunk bitten out of the brim the last time shed seen Bill wearing it. Retired history teachers just arent the hatbiting type, he reflected, and grinned. This has been quite a morning, Ralph. Lois met his gaze frankly, eye to eye. I think we need to talk about this, dont you? I really need to know whats going on. Ralph remembered this morning  a thousand years ago, now  walking back down the street from the picnic area, running over his short list of acquaintances, trying to decide whom he should talk to. He had crossed Lois off that mental list on the grounds that she might gossip to her girlfriends, and he was now embarrassed by that facile judgement, which had been based more on McGoverns picture of Lois than on his own. It turned out that the only person Lois had spoken to about the auras before today was the one person she should have been able to trust to keep her secret. He nodded at her. Youre right. We need to talk. Would you like to come back to my house for a little late lunch? I make a pretty mean stirfry for an old gal who cant keep track of her earrings. Id love to. Ill tell you what I know, but its going to take awhile. When I talked to Bill this morning, I gave him the Readers Digest version. So, Lois said. The fight was about chess, was it? Well, maybe not, Ralph said, smiling down at his hands. Maybe it was actually more like the fight you had with your son and your daughterinlaw. And I didnt even tell him the craziest parts. But youll tell me? Yes, he said, and started to get up. Ill bet youre a hell of a good cook, too. In fact He stopped suddenly and clapped one hand to his chest. He sat back down on the bench, heavily, his eyes wide and his mouth ajar. Ralph? Are you all right? Her alarmed voice seemed to be coming from a great distance. In his minds eye he was seeing Baldy 3 again, standing between the BuffyBuffy and the apartment house next door. Baldy 3 trying to get Rosalie to cross Harris Avenue so he could cut her balloonstring. Hed failed then, but hed gotten the job done (I was gonna play with her! ) before the morning was out. Maybe the fact that Bill McGovern isnt the hatbiting type wasnt the only reason Lois didnt notice whose hat Baldy 3 was wearing, Ralph old buddy. Maybe she didnt notice because she didnt want to notice. Maybe there are a couple of pieces here that fit together, and if youre right about that, the implications are wideranging. You see that, dont you? Ralph? Whats wrong? He saw the dwarf snatching a bite from the brim of the Panama and then clapping it back on his head. Heard him saying he guessed he would have to play with Ralph instead. But not just me. Me and my friends, he said. Me and my asshole friends. Now, thinking back on it, he saw something else, as well. He saw the sun striking splinters of fire from the lobes of Doc 3s ears as he  or it  chomped into the brim of McGoverns hat. The memory was too clear to deny, and so were those implications. Those wideranging implications. Take it easy  you dont know a thing for sure, and the funnyfarm is just over the horizon, my friend. I think you need to remember that, maybe use it as an anchor. I dont care if Lois is also seeing all this stuff or not. The other men in the white coats, not the pintsized baldies but the muscular guys with the butterfly nets and the Thorazine shots, can show up at any time. Any old time at all. But still. Still. Ralph! Jesus Christ, talk to me! Lois was shaking him now and shaking hard, like a wife trying to rouse a husband who is going to be late for work. He looked around at her and tried to manufacture a smile. It felt false from the inside but must have looked all right to Lois, because she relaxed. A little, anyway. Sorry, he said. For a few seconds there it all just sort of . . . you know, ganged up on me. Dont you scare me like that! The way you grabbed your chest, my God! Im fine, Ralph said, and forced his false smile even wider. He felt like a kid pulling a wad of Silly Putty, seeing how far he could stretch it before it thinned enough to tear. And if youre still cookin, Im still eatin. Threesixnine, hon, the goose drank wine. Lois took a close look at him and then relaxed. Good. That would be fun. I havent cooked for anyone but Simone and Mina  theyre my girlfriends, you know  in a long time. Then she laughed. Except that isnt what I mean. That isnt why it would be, you know, fun. What do you mean? That I havent cooked for a man in a long time. I hope I havent forgotten how. Well, there was the day Bill and I came in to watch the news with you  we had macaroni and cheese. It was good, too. She made a dismissive gesture. Reheated. Not the same. The monkey chewed tobacco on the streetcar line. The line broke Smiling wider than ever. Waiting for the rips to start. Im sure you havent forgotten how, Lois. Mr Chasse had a very hearty appetite. All sorts of hearty appetites, in fact. But then he started having his liver trouble, and . . . She sighed, then reached for Ralphs arm and took it with a mixture of timidity and resolution he found completely endearing. Never mind. Im tired of snivelling and moaning about the past. Ill leave that to Bill. Lets go. He stood up, linked his arm through hers, and walked her down the hill and toward the lower entrance to the park. Lois beamed blindingly at the young mothers in the playground as she and Ralph passed them. Ralph was glad for the distraction. He could tell himself to withhold judgement, he could remind himself over and over again that he didnt know enough about what was happening to him and Lois to even kid himself that he could think logically about it, but he kept jumping at that conclusion anyway. The conclusion felt right to his heart, and he had already come a long way toward believing that, in the world of auras, feeling and knowing were close to identical. I dont know about the other two, but 3 is one crazy medic . . . and he takes souvenirs. Takes them the way some of the crazies in Vietnam took ears. That Loiss daughterinlaw had given in to an evil impulse, scooping the diamond earrings from the china dish and putting them in the pocket of her jeans, he had no doubt. But Janet Chasse no longer had them; even now she was no doubt reproaching herself bitterly for having lost them and wondering why she had ever taken them in the first place. Ralph knew the shrimp with the scalpel had McGoverns hat even if Lois had failed to recognize it, and they had both seen him take Rosalies bandanna. What Ralph had realized as he started to get up from the bench was that those splinters of light he had seen reflected from the bald creatures earlobes almost certainly meant that Doc 3 had Loiss earrings, as well. 4 The late Mr Chasses rocking chair stood on faded linoleum by the door to the back porch. Lois led Ralph to it and admonished him to stay out from underfoot. Ralph thought this was an assignment he could handle. Strong light, midafternoon light, fell across his lap as he sat and rocked. Ralph wasnt sure how it had gotten so late so fast, but somehow it had. Maybe I fell asleep, he thought. Maybe Im asleep right now, and dreaming all this. He watched as Lois took down a wok (definitely hobbitsized) from an overhead cupboard. Five minutes later, savory smells began to fill the kitchen. I told you Id cook for you someday, Lois said, adding vegetables from the fridge crisper and spices from one of the overhead cabinets. That was the same day I gave you and Bill the leftover macaroni and cheese. Do you remember? I believe I do, Ralph said, smiling. Theres a jug of fresh cider in the milkbox on the front porch  cider always keeps best outside. Would you get it? You can pour out, too. My good glasses are in the cupboard over the sink, the one I cant reach without dragging over a chair. Youre tall enough to do without the chair, I judge. What are you, Ralph, about sixtwo? Sixthree. At least I was; I guess maybe Ive lost an inch or two in the last ten years. Your spine settles, or something. And you dont have to go putting on the dog just for me. Honest. She looked at him levelly, hands on hips, the spoon with which she had been stirring the contents of the wok jutting from one of them. Her severity was offset by a trace of a smile. I said my good glasses, Ralph Roberts, not my best glasses. Yes, maam, he said, grinning, then added From the way that smells, I guess you still remember how to cook for a man. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, Lois replied, but Ralph thought she looked pleased as she turned back to the wok. 5 The food was good, and they didnt talk about what had happened in the park as they applied themselves to it. Ralphs appetite had become uncertain, out more often than in, since his insomnia had really begun to bite, but today he ate heartily and chased Loiss spicy stirfry with three glasses of apple cider (hoping uneasily as he finished the last one that the rest of the days activities wouldnt take him too far from a toilet). When they had finished, Lois got up, went to the sink, and began to draw hot water for dishes. As she did, she resumed their earlier conversation as if it were a halffinished piece of knitting which had been temporarily laid aside for some other, more pressing, chore. What did you do to me? she asked him. What did you do to make the colors come back? I dont know. It was as if I was on the edge of that world, and when you put your hands over my eyes, you pushed me into it. He nodded, remembering how shed looked in the first few seconds after hed removed his hands  as if shed just taken off a pair of goggles which had been dipped in powdered sugar. It was pure instinct. And youre right, it is like a world. I keep thinking of it just that way, as the world of auras.


Its wonderful, isnt it? I mean, its scary, and when it first started to happen to me  back in late July or early August, this was  I was sure I was going crazy, but even then I liked it, too. I couldnt help liking it. Ralph gazed at her, startled. Had he once upon a time thought of Lois as transparent? Gossipy? Unable to keep a secret? No, Im afraid it was a little worse than that, old buddy. You thought she was shallow. You saw her pretty much through Bills eyes, as a matter of fact as our Lois. No less . . . but not much more. What? she asked, a little uneasily. Why are you looking at me like that? Youve been seeing these auras since summer? That long? Yes  brighter and brighter. Also more often. Thats why I finally went to see the tattletale. Did I really shoot that thing with my finger, Ralph? The more time goes by, the less I can believe that part of it. You did. I did something like it myself shortly before I ran into you. He told her about his earlier confrontation with Doc 3, and about how he had banished the dwarf . . . temporarily, at least. He raised his hand to his shoulder and brought it swiftly down. Thats all I did  like a kid pretending to be Chuck Norris or Steven Seagal. But it sent this incredible bolt of blue light at him, and he scurried in a hurry. Which was probably for the best, because I couldnt have done it again. I dont know how I did that, either. Could you have shot your finger again? Lois giggled, turned toward him, and cocked her finger in his general direction. Want to find out? Kapow! Kablam! Dont point dat ding at me, lady, Ralph told her. He smiled as he said it, but wasnt entirely sure he was joking. Lois lowered her finger and squirted Joy into the sink. As she began to stir the water around with one hand, puffing up the suds, she asked what Ralph thought of as the Big Questions Where did this power come from, Ralph? And whats it for? He shook his head as he got up and walked over to the dishdrainer. I dont know and I dont know. Hows that for helpful? Where do you keep your dishwipers, Lois? Never mind where I keep my dishwipers. Go sit down. Please tell me youre not one of these modern men, Ralph  the ones that are always hugging each other and bawling. Ralph laughed and shook his head. Nope. I was just well trained, thats all. Okay. As long as you dont start going on about how sensitive you are. There are some things a girl likes to find out for herself. She opened the cupboard under the sink and tossed him a faded but scrupulously clean dishtowel. Just dry them and put them on the counter. Ill put them away myself. While youre working, you can tell me your story. The unabridged version. You got a deal. He was still wondering where to begin when his mouth opened, seemingly of its own accord, and began for him. When I finally started to get it through my head that Carolyn was going to die, I went for a lot of walks. And one day, while I was out on the Extension . . . 6 He told her everything, beginning with his intervention between Ed and the fat man wearing the West Side Gardeners gimmecap and ending with Bill telling him that hed better go see his doctor, because at their age mental illness was common, at their age it was common as hell. He had to double back several times to pick up dropped stitches  the way Old Dor had showed up in the middle of his efforts to keep Ed from going at the man from West Side Gardeners, for instance  but he didnt mind doing that, and Lois didnt seem to have any trouble keeping his narrative straight, either. The overall feeling Ralph was conscious of as he wound his way through his tale was a relief so deep it was nearly painful. It was as if someone had stacked bricks on his heart and mind and he was now removing them, one by one. By the time he was finished, the dishes were done and they had left the kitchen in favor of the living room with its dozens of framed photographs, presided over by Mr Chasse from his place on the TV. So? Ralph said. How much of it do you believe? All of it, of course, she said, and either did not notice the expression of relief of Ralphs face or chose to ignore it. After what we saw this morning  not to mention what you knew about my wonderful daughterinlaw  I cant very well not believe. Thats my advantage over Bill. Not your only one, Ralph thought but didnt say. None of this stuff is coincidental, is it? she asked him. Ralph shook his head. No, I dont think so. When I was seventeen, she said, my mother hired this boy from down the road  Richard Henderson, his name was  to do chores around our place. There were a lot of boys she could have hired, but she hired Richie because she liked him . . . and she liked him for me, if you understand what I mean. Of course I do. She was matchmaking. Uhhuh, but at least she wasnt doing it in a big, gruesome, embarrassing way. Thank God, because I didnt care a fig for Richie  at least not like that. Still, Mother gave it her very best. If I was studying my books at the kitchen table, shed have him loading the woodbox even though it was May and already hot. If I was feeding the chickens, shed have Richie cutting sidehay next to the dooryard. She wanted me to see him around . . . to get used to him . . . and if we got to like each others company and he asked me to a dance or the town fair, that would have been just fine with her. It was gentle, but it was there. A push. And thats what this is like. The pushes dont feel all that gentle to me, Ralph said. His hand went involuntarily to the place where Charlie Pickering had pricked him with the point of his knife. No, of course they dont. Having a man stick a knife in your ribs like that must have been horrible. Thank God you had that spraycan. Do you suppose Old Dor sees the auras, too? That something from that world told him to put the can in your pocket? Ralph gave a helpless shrug. What she was suggesting had crossed his mind, but once you got beyond it, the ground really started to slope away. Because if Dorrance had done that, it suggested that some ((entity) force or being had known that Ralph would need help. Nor was that all. That force  or being  would also have had to know that (a) Ralph would be going out on Sunday afternoon, that (b) the weather, quite nice up until then, would turn nasty enough to require a jacket, and (c) which jacket he would wear. You were talking, in other words, about something that could foretell the future. The idea that he had been noticed by such a force frankly scared the hell out of him. He recognized that in the case of the aerosol can, at least, the intervention had probably saved his life, but it still scared the hell out of him. Maybe, he said. Maybe something did use Dorrance as an errandboy. But why? And what do we do now? she added. Ralph could only shake his head. She glanced up at the clock squeezed in between the picture of the man in the raccoon coat and the young woman who looked ready to say Twentythree skidoo any old time, then reached for the phone. Almost threethirty! My goodness! Ralph touched her hand. Who are you calling? Simone Castonguay. Id made plans to go over to Ludlow with her and Mina this afternoon  theres a cardparty at the Grange  but I cant go after all this. Id lose my shirt. She laughed, then colored prettily. Just a figure of speech. Ralph put his hand over hers before she could lift the receiver. Go on to your cardparty, Lois. Really? She looked both doubtful and a little disappointed. Yes. He was still unclear about what was going on here, but he sensed that was about to change. Lois had spoken of being pushed, but to Ralph it felt more as if he were being carried, the way a river carries a man in a small boat. But he couldnt see where he was going; heavy mist shrouded the banks, and now, as the current began to grow swifter, he could hear the rumble of rapids somewhere up ahead. Still, there are shapes, Ralph. Shapes in the mist. Yes. Not very comforting ones, either. They might be trees that only looked like clutching fingers . . . but on the other hand, they might be clutching fingers trying to look like trees. Until Ralph knew which was the case, he liked the idea of Lois being out of town just fine. He had a strong intuition  or perhaps it was only hope masquerading as intuition  that Doc 3 couldnt follow her to Ludlow, that he might not even be able to follow her across the Barrens to the east side. You cant know any such thing, Ralph. Maybe not, but it felt right, and he was still convinced that in the world of the auras, feeling and knowing were pretty nearly the same thing. One thing he did know was that Doc 3 hadnt cut Loiss balloonstring yet; that Ralph had seen for himself, along with the joyously healthy gray glow of her aura. Yet Ralph could not escape a growing certainty that Doc 3  Crazy Doc  intended to cut it, and that, no matter how lively Rosalie had looked when she went trotting away from Strawford Park, the severing of that cord was a mortal, murderous act. Lets say youre right, Ralph; lets say he cant get at her this afternoon if shes playing nickelin, dimeorout in Ludlow. What about tonight? Tomorrow? Next week? Whats the solution? Does she call up her son and her bitch of a daughterinlaw, tell them shes changed her mind about Riverview Estates and wants to go there after all? He didnt know. But he knew he needed time to think, and he also knew that constructive thinking would be hard to do until he was fairly sure that Lois was safe, at least for awhile. Ralph? Youre getting that moogy look again. That what look? Moogy. She tossed her hair pertly. Thats a word I made up to describe how Mr Chasse looked when he was pretending to listen to me but was actually thinking about his coin collection. I know a moogy look when I see one, Ralph. What are you thinking about? I was wondering what time you think youll get back from your cardgame. That depends. On what? On whether or not we stop at Tubbys for chocolate frapps. She spoke with the air of a woman revealing a secret vice. Suppose you come straight back. Seven oclock. Maybe seventhirty. Call me as soon as you get home. Would you do that? Yes. You want me out of town, dont you? Thats what that moogy look really means. Well . . . You think that nasty bald thing means to hurt me, dont you? I think its a possibility. Well, he might hurt you, too! Yes, but . . . But so far as I can tell, Lois, hes not wearing any of my fashion accessories. But what? Im going to be okay until you get back, thats all. He remembered her deprecating remark about modern men hugging each other and bawling and tried for a masterful frown. Go play cards and leave this business to me, at least for the time being. Thats an order. Carolyn would have either laughed or gotten angry at such comicopera macho posturing. Lois, who belonged to an entirely different school of feminine thought, only nodded and looked grateful to have the decision taken out of her hands. All right. She tilted his chin down so she could look directly into his eyes. Do you know what youre doing, Ralph? Nope. Not yet, anyway. All right. Just as long as you admit it. She placed a hand on his forearm and a soft, openmouthed kiss on the corner of his mouth. Ralph felt an entirely welcome prickle of heat in his groin. Ill go to Ludlow and win five dollars playing poker with those silly women who are always trying to fill their inside straights. Tonight well talk about what to do next. Okay? Yes. Her small smile  a thing more in the eyes than of the mouth  suggested that they might do a little more than just talk, if Ralph was bold . . . and at that moment he felt quite bold, indeed. Not even Mr Chasses stern gaze from his place atop the TV affected that feeling very much. CHAPTER FOURTEEN 1 It was quarter to four by the time Ralph crossed the street and walked the short distance back up the hill to his own building. Weariness was stealing over him again; he felt as if he had been up for roughly three centuries. Yet at the same time he felt better than he had since Carolyn had died. More together. More himself. Or is that maybe just what you want to believe? That a person cant feel this miserable without some sort of positive payback? Its a lovely idea, Ralph, but not very realistic. All right, he thought, so maybe Im a little confused right now. Indeed he was. Also frightened, exhilarated, disoriented, and a touch horny. Yet one clear idea came through this mix of emotions, one thing he needed to do before he did anything else he had to make up with Bill. If that meant apologizing, he could do that. Maybe an apology was even in order. Bill, after all, hadnt come to him, saying, Gee, old buddy, you look terrible, tell me all about it. No, he had gone to Bill. He had done so with misgivings, true, but that didnt change the fact, and Ah, Ralph, jeez, what am I going to do with you? It was Carolyns amused voice, speaking to him as clearly as it had during the weeks following her death, when hed handled the worst of his grief by discussing everything with her inside his head . . . and sometimes aloud, if he happened to be alone in the apartment. Bill was the one who blew his top, sweetie, not you. I see youre just as determined to be hard on yourself now as you were when I was alive. I guess some things never change. Ralph smiled a little. Yeah, okay, maybe some things never did change, and maybe the argument had been more Bills fault than his. The question was whether or not he wanted to cut himself off from Bills companionship over a stupid quarrel and a lot of stiffnecked horseshit about who had been right and who had been wrong. Ralph didnt think he did, and if that meant making an apology Bill didnt really deserve, what was so awful about that? So far as he knew, there were no bones in the three little syllables that made up Im sorry. The Carolyn inside his head responded to this idea with wordless incredulity. Never mind, he told her as he started up the walk. Im doing this for me, not for him. Or for you, as far as that goes. He was amazed and amused to discover how guilty that last thought made him feel  almost as if he had committed an act of sacrilege. But that didnt make the thought any less true. He was feeling around in his pocket for his latchkey when he saw a note thumbtacked to the door. Ralph felt for his glasses, but he had left them upstairs on the kitchen table. He leaned back, squinting to read Bills scrawling hand Dear RalphLoisFayeWhoever, I expect to be spending most of the day at Derry Home. Bob Polhursts niece called and told me that this time its almost certainly the real thing; the poor man has almost finished his struggle. Room 313 in Derry Home ICU is about the last place on earth I want to be on a beautiful day in October, but I guess Id better see this through to the end. Ralph, Im sorry I gave you such a hard time this morning. You came to me for help and I damned near clawed your face off instead. All I can say by way of apology is that this thing with Bob has completely wrecked my nerves. Okay? I think I owe you a dinner . . . if you still want to eat with the likes of me, that is. Faye, please please PLEASE quit bugging me about your damned chess tournament. I promised Id play, and I keep my promises. Goodbye, cruel world, Bill Ralph straightened up with a feeling of relief and gratitude. If only everything else that had been happening to him lately could straighten itself out as easily as this part had done! He went upstairs, shook the teakettle, and was filling it at the sink when the telephone rang. It was John Leydecker. Boy, Im glad I finally got hold of you, he said. I was getting a little worried, old buddy. Why? Ralph asked. Whats wrong? Maybe nothing, maybe something. Charlie Pickering made bail after all. You told me that wouldnt happen. I was wrong, okay? Leydecker said, clearly irritated. It wasnt the only thing I was wrong about, either. I told you the judged probably set bail in the fortythousanddollar range, but I didnt know Pickering was going to draw Judge Steadman, who has been known to say that he doesnt even believe in insanity. Steadman set bail at eighty grand. Pickerings courtappointed bellowed like a calf in the moonlight, but it didnt make any difference. Ralph looked down and saw he was still holding the teakettle in one hand. He put it on the table. And he still made bail? Yep. Remember me telling you that Ed would throw him away like a paring knife with a broken blade? Yes. Well, score it as another strikeout for John Leydecker. Ed marched into the bailiffs office at eleven oclock this morning with a briefcase full of money. Eight thousand dollars? Ralph asked. I said briefcase, not envelope, Leydecker replied. Not eight but eighty. Theyre still buzzing down at the courthouse. Hell, theyll be buzzing about it even after the Christmas tinsel comes down. Ralph tried to imagine Ed Deepneau in one of his baggy old sweaters and a pair of worn corduroys  Eds madscientist outfits, Carolyn had called them  pulling banded stacks of twenties and fifties out of his briefcase and couldnt do it. I thought you said ten per cent was enough to get out. It is, if you can also escrow something  a house or a piece of property, for instance  that stacks up somewhere near the total bail amount. Apparently Ed couldnt do that, but he did have a little rainyday cash under the mattress. Either that or he gave the toothfairy one hell of a blowjob. Ralph found himself remembering the letter he had gotten from Helen about a week after she had left the hospital and moved out to High Ridge. She had mentioned a check shed gotten from Ed  seven hundred and fifty dollars. It seems to indicate he understands his responsibilities, she had written. Ralph wondered if Helen would still feel that way if she knew that Ed had walked into the Derry County Courthouse with enough money to send his daughter sailing through the first fifteen years of her life . . . and pledged it to free a crazy guy who liked to play with knives and Molotov cocktails. Where in Gods name did he get it? he asked Leydecker. Dont know. And he isnt required to say? Nope. Its a free country. I understand he said something about cashing in some stocks. Ralph thought back to the old days  the good old days before Carolyn had gotten sick and died and Ed had just gotten sick. Thought back to meals the four of them had had together once every two weeks or so, takeout pizza at the Deepneaus or maybe Carols chicken potpie in the Robertses kitchen, and remembered Ed saying on one occasion that he was going to treat them all to prime rib at the Red Lion in Bangor when his stock accounts matured. Thats right, Helen had replied, smiling at Ed fondly. She had been pregnant then, just beginning to show, and looking all of fourteen with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing a checkered smock that was still yards too big for her. Which do you think will mature first, Edward? The two thousand shares of United Toejam or the six thousand of Amalgamated Sourballs? And he had growled at her, a growl that had made them all laugh because Ed Deepneau didnt have a mean bone in his body, anyone who had known him more than two weeks knew that Ed wouldnt hurt a fly. Except Helen might have known a little different  even back then Helen had almost surely known a little different, fond look or no fond look. Ralph? Leydecker asked. Are you still there? Ed didnt have any stocks, Ralph said. He was a research chemist, for Christs sake, and his father was foreman in a bottling plant in some crazy place like Plaster Rock, Pennsylvania. No dough there. Well, he got it somewhere, and Id be lying if I said I liked it. From the other Friends of Life, do you think? No, I dont. First, were not talking rich folks here  most of the people who belong to The Friends are bluecollar types, workingclass heroes. They give what they can, but this much? No. They could have gotten together enough property deeds among them to spring Pickering, I suppose, but they didnt. Most of them wouldnt, even if Ed had asked. Eds all but persona non grata with them now, and I imagine they wish theyd never heard of Charlie Pickering. Dan Daltons taken back the leadership of The Friends of Life, and to most of them, thats a big relief. Ed and Charlie and two other people  a man named Frank Felton and a woman named Sandra McKay  seem to be operating very much on their own hook now. Felton I dont know anything about and theres no jacket on him, but the McKay woman has toured some of the same fine institutions as Charlie. Shes unmissable, too  pasty complexion, lots of acne, glasses so thick they make her eyes look like poached eggs, goes about three hundred pounds. You joking? No. She favors stretch pants from Kmart and can usually be observed travelling in the company of assorted DingDongs, Funny Bones, and Hostess Twinkies. She often wears a big sweatshirt with the words BABY FACTORY on the front. Claims to have given birth to fifteen children. Shes never actually had any, and probably cant. Why are you telling me all this? Because I want you to watch out for these people, Leydecker said. He spoke patiently, as if to a child. They may be dangerous. Charlie is for sure, that you know without me telling you, and Charlie is out. Where Ed got the money to spring him is secondary  he got it, thats what matters. I wouldnt be a bit surprised if he came after you again. Him, or Ed, or the others. What about Helen and Natalie? Theyre with their friends  friends who are very hip to the dangers posed by screwloose hubbies. I filled Mike Hanlon in, and hell also keep an eye on her. The library is being watched very closely by our men. We dont think Helens in any real danger at the present time  shes still staying at High Ridge  but were doing what we can. Thank you, John. I appreciate that, and I appreciate the call. I appreciate that you appreciate it, but Im not quite done yet. You need to remember who Ed called and threatened, my friend  not Helen but you. She doesnt seem to be much of a concern to him anymore, but you linger on his mind, Ralph. I asked Chief Johnson if I could assign a man  Chris Nell would be my pick  to keep an eye on you, at least until after WomanCares RentABitch has come and gone. I was turned down. Too much going on this week, he said . . . but the way I was turned down suggests to me that if you asked, youd get someone to watch your back. So what do you say? Police protection, Ralph thought. Thats what they call it on the TV cop shows and thats what hes talking about  police protection. He tried to consider the idea, but too many other things got in the way; they danced in his head like weird sugarplums. Hats, docs, smocks, spraycans. Not to mention knives, scalpels, and a pair of scissors glimpsed in the dusty lenses of his old binoculars. Each thing I do I rush through so I can do something else, Ralph thought, and on the heels of that Its a long walk back to Eden, sweetheart, so dont sweat the small stuff. No, he said. What? Ralph closed his eyes and saw himself picking up this same phone and calling to cancel his appointment with the pinsticker man. This was the same thing all over again, wasnt it? Yes. He could get police protection from the Pickerings and the McKays and the Feltons, but that wasnt the way this was supposed to go. He knew that, felt it in every beat of his heart and pulse of his blood. You heard me, he said. I dont want police protection. For Gods sake, why? I can take care of myself, Ralph said, and grimaced a little at the pompous absurdity of this sentiment, which he had heard expressed in John Wayne Westerns without number. Ralph, I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but youre old. You got lucky on Sunday. You might not get lucky again. I didnt just get lucky, Ralph thought. Ive got friends in high places. Or maybe I should say entities in high places. Ill be okay, he said. Leydecker sighed. If you change your mind, will you call me? Yes. And if you see either Pickering or a large lady with thick glasses and stringy blonde hair hanging around Ill call you. Ralph, please think this over. Just a guy parked down the street is all Im talking about. Donebuncantbeundone, Ralph said. Huh? I said I appreciate it, but no. Ill be talking to you. Ralph gently replaced the telephone in its cradle. Probably John was right, he thought, probably he was crazy, yet he had never felt so completely sane in his life. Tired, he told his sunny, empty kitchen,but sane. He paused, then added Also halfway to being in love, maybe. That made him grin, and he was still grinning when he finally put the kettle on to heat. 2 He was on his second cup of tea when he remembered what Bill had said in his note about owing him a meal. He decided on the spur of the moment to ask Bill to meet him at Day Break, Sun Down for a little supper. They could start over. I think we have to start over, he thought, because that little psycho has got his hat, and Im pretty sure that means hes in trouble. Well, no time like the present. He picked up the phone and dialed a number he had no trouble remembering 9415000. The number of Derry Home Hospital. 3 The hospital receptionist connected him with Room 313. The clearly tired woman who answered the phone was Denise Polhurst, the dying mans niece. Bill wasnt there, she told him. Four other teachers from what she termed Uncs glory days had shown up around one, and Bill had proposed lunch. Ralph even knew how his downstairs tenant would have put it better belated than never. It was one of his favorites. When Ralph asked her if she expected him back soon, Denise Polhurst said she did. Hes been so faithful. I dont know what I would have done without him, Mr Robbins. Roberts, he said. Bill made Mr Polhurst sound like a wonderful man. Yes, they all feel that way. But of course the bills wont be coming to his fan club, will they? No, Ralph said uncomfortably. I suppose not. Bills note said your uncle is very low. Yes. The doctor says he probably wont last the day, let alone the night, but Ive heard that song before. God forgive me, but sometimes its like Uncle Bobs one of those ads from Publishers Clearing House  always promising, never delivering. I suppose that sounds awful, but Im too tired to care. They turned off the lifesupport stuff this morning  I couldnt have taken the responsibility all by myself, but I called Bill and he said it was what Unc would have wanted. Its time for Bob to explore the next world, he said. Hes mapped this one to a nicety. Isnt that poetic, Mr Robbins? Yes. Its Roberts, Ms Polhurst. Will you tell Bill that Ralph Roberts called and would like him to call ba So we turned it off and I was all prepared  nerved up, I guess youd say  and then he didnt die. I cant understand it. Hes ready, Im ready, his lifes work is done . . . so why wont he die? I dont know. Death is very stupid, she said, speaking in the nagging and unlovely voice which only the very tired and the deeply heartsick seem to employ. An obstetrician this slow in cutting a babys umbilical cord would be fired for malpractice. Ralphs mind had a tendency to drift these days, but this time it snapped back in a hurry. What did you say? Beg your pardon? She sounded startled, as if her own mind had been drifting. You said something about cutting the cord. I didnt mean anything, she said. That nagging tone had grown stronger . . . except it wasnt nagging, Ralph realized; it was whining, and it was frightened. Something was wrong here. His heartbeat suddenly speeded up. I didnt mean anything at all, she insisted, and suddenly the phone Ralph was holding turned a deep and sinister shade of blue in his hand. Shes been thinking about killing him, and not just idly, either  shes been thinking about putting a pillow over his face and smothering him with it. It wouldnt take long, she thinks. A mercy, she thinks. Over at last, she thinks. Ralph pulled the phone away from his ear. Blue light, cold as a February sky, rose in pencilthin rays from the holes in the earpiece. Murder is blue, Ralph thought, holding the phone at arms length and staring with wideeyed unbelief as the blue rays began to bend and drip toward the floor. He could hear, very faintly, the quacking, anxious voice of Denise Polhurst. It wasnt anything I ever wanted to know, but I guess I know it anyway murder is blue. He brought the handset toward his mouth again, cocking it to keep the top half, with its freight of icicle aura, away from him. He was afraid that if that end of the handset got too close to his ear, it might deafen him with her cold and furious desperation. Tell Bill that Ralph called, he said. Roberts, not Robbins. He hung up without waiting for a reply. The blue rays shattered away from the phones earpiece and tumbled toward the floor. Ralph was again reminded of icicles; this time of how they fell in a neat row when you ran your gloved hand along the underside of an eave after a warm winter day. They disappeared before they hit the linoleum. He glanced around. Nothing in the room glowed, shimmered, or vibrated. The auras were gone again. He began to let out a sigh of relief and then, from outside on Harris Avenue, a car backfired. In the empty secondfloor apartment, Ralph Roberts screamed. 4 He didnt want any more tea, but he was still thirsty. He found half a Diet Pepsi  flat but wet  in the back of the fridge, poured it into a plastic cup with a faded Red Apple logo on it, and took it outside. He could no longer stand to be in the apartment, which seemed to smell of unhappy wakefulness. Especially not after what had happened with the phone. The day had become even more beautiful, if that was possible; a strong, mild wind had developed, rolling bands of light and shadow across the west side of Derry and combing the leaves from the trees. These the wind sent hurrying along the sidewalks in rattling dervishes of orange and yellow and red. Ralph turned left not because he had any conscious desire to revisit the picnic area up by the airport but only because he wanted the wind at his back. Nevertheless, he found himself entering the little clearing again some ten minutes later. This time it was empty, and he wasnt surprised. There was no edge in the wind that had sprung up, nothing to make old men and women scurry indoors, but it was hard work keeping cards on the table or chesspieces on the board when the puckish wind kept trying to snatch them away. As Ralph approached the small trestle table where Faye Chapin usually held court, he was not exactly surprised to see a note held down by a rock, and he had a good idea what the subject would be even before he put down his plastic Red Apple cup and picked it up. Two walks; two sightings of the bald doc with the scalpel; two old people suffering insomnia and seeing brightly colored visions; two notes. Its like Noah leading the animals onto the ark, not one by one but in pairs . . . and is another hard rain going to fall? Well, what do you think, old man? He didnt know what he thought . . . but Bills note had been a kind of obituaryinprogress, and he had absolutely no doubt that Fayes was the same thing. That sense of being carried forward, effortlessly and without hesitation, was simply too strong to doubt; it was like awakening on some alien stage to find oneself speaking lines (or stumbling through them, anyway) in a drama for which one could not remember having rehearsed, or seeing a coherent shape in what had up until then looked like complete nonsense, or discovering . . . Discovering what? Another secret city, thats what, he murmured. The Derry of Auras. Then he bent over Fayes note and read it while the wind played prankishly with his thinning hair. 5 Those of you who want to pay your final respects to Jimmy Vandermeer are advised to do so by tomorrow at the very latest.