and then hands began to go up. Two . . . six . . . nine of them. Roy Owdersfelt, Warwick said. Roy Owdersfelt, a tall boy with a pimple the size of a tumor on the end of his nose, stood up, twisting his rawboned hands in front of him. I stole ten bucks from my mommas purse last year! he announced in a high, screamy voice. One scabbed, grimy hand wandered up to his face, settled on the pimple, and gave it a fearful tweak. I took it down to The Wizard of Odds and I turned it into quarters and I played all these different games like PacMan and Laser Strike until it was gone! That was money she had put away against the gas bill, and thats how come for a while they turned off our heat! He blinked around at them. And my brother got sick and had to go in the hospital up in Indianapolis with pneumonia! Because I stole that money! Thats my confession. Roy Owdersfelt sat down. Sunlight Gardener said, Can Roy be forgiven? In unison the boys replied, Roy can be forgiven. Can anyone here forgive him, boys? No one here. Who can forgive him? God through the power of His only begotten Son, Jesus. Will you pray to Jesus to intercede for you? Gardener asked Roy Owdersfelt. Sure am gonna! Roy Owdersfelt cried in an unsteady voice, and tweaked the pimple again. Jack saw that Roy Owdersfelt was weeping. And the next time your momma comes here are you going to tell your momma that you know you sinned against her and your little brother and against the face of God and youre just as sorry a boy as ever there was? You bet! Sunlight Gardener nodded to Andy Warwick. Confession, Warwick said. Before confession was over at six oclock, almost everyone except Jack and Wolf had his hand up, hoping to relate some sin to those gathered. Several confessed petty theft. Others told of stealing liquor and drinking until they threw up. There were, of course, many tales of drugs. Warwick called on them, but it was Sunlight Gardener they looked to for approval as they told . . . and told . . . and told. Hes got them liking their sins, Jack thought, troubled. They love him, they want his approval, and I guess they only get it if they confess. Some of these sad sacks probably even make their crimes up. The smells from the dining hall had been getting stronger. Wolfs stomach rumbled furiously and constantly next to Jack. Once, during one boys tearful confession of having hooked a Penthouse magazine so he could look at those filthy pictures of what he called sexedout women, Wolfs stomach rumbled so loudly that Jack elbowed him. Following the last confession of the evening, Sunlight Gardener offered a short, melodious prayer. Then he stood in the doorway, informal and yet resplendent in his jeans and white silk shirt, as the boys filed out. As Jack and Wolf passed, he closed one of his hands around Jacks wrist. Ive met you before. Confess, Sunlight Gardeners eyes demanded. And Jack felt an urge to do just that. Oh yes, we know each other, yes. You whipped my back bloody. No, he said. Oh yes, Gardener said. Oh yes. Ive met you before. In California? In Maine? Oklahoma? Where? Confess. I dont know you, Jack said. Gardener giggled. Inside his own head, Jack suddenly knew, Sunlight Gardener was jigging and dancing and snapping a bullwhip. So Peter said when he was asked to identify Jesus Christ, he said. But Peter lied. So do you, I think. Was it in Texas, Jack? El Paso? Was it in Jerusalem in another life? On Golgotha, the place of the skull? I tell you Yes, yes, I know, weve only just met. Another giggle. Wolf, Jack saw, had shied as far away from Sunlight Gardener as the doorway would allow. It was the smell. The gagging, cloying smell of the mans cologne. And under it, the smell of craziness. I never forget a face, Jack. I never forget a face or a place. Ill remember where we met. His eyes flicked from Jack to WolfWolf whined a little and pulled backand then back to Jack again. Enjoy your dinner, Jack, he said. Enjoy your dinner, Wolf. Your real life at the Sunlight Home begins tomorrow. Halfway to the stairs, he turned and looked back. I never forget a place or a face, Jack. Ill remember. Coldly, Jack thought, God, I hope not. Not until Im about two thousand miles away from this fucking pris Something slammed into him hard. Jack flew out into the hall, pinwheeling his arms madly for balance. He hit his head on the bare concrete floor and saw a tangled shower of stars. When he was able to sit up, he saw Singer and Bast standing together, grinning. Behind them was Casey, his gut pouching out his white turtleneck. Wolf was looking at Singer and Bast, and something in his tenseddown posture alarmed Jack. No, Wolf! he said sharply. Wolf slumped. No, go ahead, dummy, Heck Bast said, laughing a little. Dont listen to him. Go on and try me, if you want. I always liked a little warmup before dinner. Singer glanced at Wolf and said, Leave the dummy alone, Heck. Hes just the body. He nodded at Jack. Theres the head. Theres the head we got to change. He looked down at Jack, hands on his knees, like an adult bending to pass a pleasant word or two with a very small child. And we will change it, Mr. Jack Parker. You can believe it. Deliberately, Jack said, Piss off, you bullying asshole. Singer recoiled as if slapped, a flush rising out of his collar, up his neck, and into his face. With a growl, Heck Bast stepped forward. Singer grabbed Basts arm. Still looking at Jack, he said, Not now. Later. Jack got to his feet. You want to watch out for me, he said quietly to them both, and although Hector Bast only glowered, Sonny Singer looked almost scared. For a moment he seemed to see something in Jack Sawyers face that was both strong and forbiddingsomething that had not been there almost two months ago, when a much younger boy had set the small seafront town of Arcadia Beach to his back and had begun walking west. 4 Jack thought that Uncle Tommy might have described dinnernot unkindlyas consisting of American Grange Hall Cuisine. The boys sat at long tables and were served by four of their number, who had changed into clean messwhites following the confession period. Following another prayer, chow was duly brought on. Big glass bowls full of homebaked beans were passed up and down the four tables, steaming platters of cheap red hotdogs, tureens of canned pineapple chunks, lots of milk in plain cartons marked DONATED COMMODITIES and INDIANA STATE DAIRY COMMISSION. Wolf ate with grim concentration, his head down, a piece of bread always in one hand to serve as a combination pusher and mopper. As Jack watched, he gobbled five hotdogs and three helpings of the bullethard beans. Thinking of the small room with its closed window, Jack wondered if he were going to need a gasmask tonight. He supposed sonot that he was likely to be issued one. He watched dismally as Wolf slopped a fourth helping of beans onto his plate. Following dinner, all the boys rose, formed lines, and cleared the tables. As Jack took his dishes, a Wolfdecimated loaf of bread, and two milkpitchers out into the kitchen, he kept his eyes wide open. The stark labels on the milk cartons had given him an idea. This place wasnt a prison, and it wasnt a workhouse. It was probably classed as a boarding school or something, and the law would demand that some sort of state inspectors must keep an eye on it. The kitchen would be a place where the State of Indianas eye would fall most often. Bars on the windows upstairs, okay. Bars on the kitchen windows? Jack didnt think so. They would raise too many questions. The kitchen might make a good jumpingoff point for an escape attempt, so Jack studied it carefully. It looked a lot like the cafeteria kitchen at his school in California. The floor and walls were tiled, the big sinks and counters stainless steel. The cupboards were nearly the size of vegetable bins. An old conveyorbelt dishwasher stood against one wall. Three boys were already operating this hoary antique under the supervision of a man in cooks whites. The man was narrow, pallid, and possessed of a ratlike little face. An unfiltered cigarette was pasted to his upper lip, and that identified him in Jacks mind as a possible ally. He doubted if Sunlight Gardener would let any of his own people smoke cigarettes. On the wall, he saw a framed certificate which announced that this public kitchen had been rated acceptable under standards set by the State of Indiana and the U.S. Government. And no, there were no bars on the frostedglass windows. The ratlike man looked over at Jack, peeled his cigarette off his lower lip, and tossed it into one of the sinks. New fish, you and your buddy, huh? he asked. Well, youll be old fish soon enough. The fish get old real quick here in the Sunlight Home, dont they, Sonny? He grinned insolently at Sonny Singer. It was quite obvious that Singer did not know how to cope with such a smile; he looked confused and unsure, just a kid again. You know youre not supposed to talk to the boys, Rudolph, he said. You can just cram it up your ass anytime you cant roll it down the alley or kick it in the air, buddyroo, Rudolph said, flicking his eyes lazily over Singer. You know that, dont you? Singer looked at him, lips first trembling, then writhing, then pushing together hard. He suddenly turned around. Nightchapel! he shouted furiously. Nightchapel, come on, lets go, get those tables cleared and lets get up the hall, were late! Nightchapel! 5 The boys trooped down a narrow staircase lit by naked bulbs enclosed in wire mesh. The walls were dank plaster, and Jack didnt like the way Wolfs eyeballs were rolling. After that, the cellar chapel was a surprise. Most of the downstairs areawhich was considerablehad been converted into a spare, modern chapel. The air down here was goodnot too warm, not too cold. And fresh. Jack could hear the whispering of convection units somewhere near. There were five pews split by a central aisle, leading up to a dais with a lectern and a simple wooden cross hung on a purple velvet backdrop. Somewhere, an organ was playing. The boys filed quietly into the pews. The microphone on the lectern had a large, professionallooking baffle on the end of it. Jack had been in plenty of studio soundrooms with his mother, often sitting patiently by and reading a book or doing his homework assignments while she did TV overdubs or looped unclear dialogue, and he knew that sort of baffle was meant to keep the speaker from popping the mike. He thought it a strange thing to see in the chapel of a religious boarding home for wayward boys. Two video cameras stood at either side of the lectern, one to catch Sunlight Gardeners right profile, the other to catch his left. Neither was turned on this evening. There were heavy purple drapes on the walls. On the right, they were unbroken. Set into the left wall, however, was a glass rectangle. Jack could see Casey crouched over an extremely professionallooking soundboard, reeltoreel tape recorder close to his right hand. As Jack watched, Casey grabbed a pair of cans from the board and slipped them over his ears. Jack looked up and saw hardwood beams rising in a series of six modest arches. Between them was drilled white composition board . . . soundproofing. The place looked like a chapel, but it was a very efficient combination TVandradio studio. Jack suddenly thought of Jimmy Swaggart, Rex Humbard, Jack Van Impe. Folks, just lay yo hand on yo television set, and you gone be HEALED!!! He suddenly felt like screaming with laughter. A small door to the left of the podium opened, and Sunlight Gardener stepped out. He was dressed in white from head to toe, and Jack saw expressions varying from exaltation to outright adoration on the faces of many of the boys, but Jack again had to restrain himself from a wild laughingspree. The vision in white approaching the lectern reminded him of a series of commercials he had seen as a very young child. He thought Sunlight Gardener looked like the Man from Glad. Wolf turned toward him and whispered hoarsely, Whats the matter, Jack? You smell like somethings really funny. Jack snorted so hard into the hand cupped over his mouth that he blew colorless snot all over his fingers. Sunlight Gardener, his face glowing with ruddy good health, turned the pages of the great Bible on the lectern, apparently lost in deepest meditation. Jack saw the glowering scorchedearth landscape of Heck Basts face, the narrow, suspicious face of Sonny Singer. He sobered up in a hurry. In the glass booth, Casey was sitting up, watching Gardener alertly. And as Gardener raised his handsome face from his Bible and fastened his cloudy, dreaming, and utterly insane eyes upon his congregation, Casey flipped a switch. The reels of the big tape recorder began to turn. 6 Fret not thyself because of evildoers, said Sunlight Gardener. His voice was low, musical, thoughtful. Neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity. For they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and wither as the green herb. Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the Territories (Jack Sawyer felt his heart take a nasty, leaping turn in his chest) and verily thou shalt be fed. Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass. . . . Cease from anger, and forsake wrath; fret not thyself in any wise to do evil. For evildoers shall be cut off but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit his Territory. Sunlight Gardener closed the Book. May God, he said, add His Blessing to the reading of His Holy Word. He looked down at his hands for a long, long time. In Caseys glass booth, the wheels of the tape recorder turned. Then he looked up again, and in his mind Jack suddenly heard this man scream Not the Kingsland? You dont mean to tell me youve overturned a full wagonload of Kingsland Ale, you stupid goats penis? You dont mean to tell me that, do yoooooouuuuuuu? Sunlight Gardener studied his young male congregation closely and earnestly. Their faces looked back at himround faces, lean faces, bruised faces, faces flaring with acne, faces that were sly, and faces that were open and youthful and lovely. What does it mean, boys? Do you understand Psalm Thirtyseven? Do you understand this lovely, lovely song? No, their faces saidsly and open, clear and sweet, pitted and poxed. Not too much, only got as far as the fifth grade, been on the road, been on the bum, been in trouble . . . tell me . . . tell me. . . . Suddenly, shockingly, Gardener shrieked into the mike, It means DONT SWEAT IT! Wolf recoiled, moaning a little. Now you know what that means, dont you? You boys have heard that one, havent you? Yeah! someone shouted from behind Jack. OHYEAH! Sunlight Gardener echoed, beaming. DONT SWEAT IT! NEGATIVE PERSPIRATION! They are good words, arent they, boys? Those are some kind of gooooood words, OHYEAH! Yeah! . . . YEAH! This Psalm says you dont have to WORRY about the evildoers! NO SWEAT! OHYEAH! It says you dont have to WORRY about the workers of sin and iniquity! NEGATIVE PERSPIRATION! This Psalm here says that if you WALK the Lord and TALK the Lord, EVERYTHINGS GONNA BE SO COOL! Do you understand that, boys? Do you have an understanding ear for that? Yeah! Hallelujah! Heck Bast cried, grinning divinely. Amen! a boy with a great lazy eye behind his magnifying spectacles returned. Sunlight Gardener took the mike with practiced ease, and Jack was again reminded of a Las Vegas lounge performer. Gardener began to walk back and forth with nervous, mincing rapidity. He sometimes did a jigging little halfstep in his clean white leather shoes; now he was Dizzy Gillespie, now Jerry Lee Lewis, now Stan Kenton, now Gene Vincent; he was in a fever of jive Godhead testimony. Naw, you dont have to fear! Ah, naw! You dont have to fear that kid who wants to show you dirtybook pictures! You dont have to fear that boy who says just one toke on just one joint wont hurt you and youll be a sissy if you dont take it! Ah, naw! CAUSE WHEN YOU GOT THE LORD YOU GONNA WALK WITH THE LORD, AM I RIGHT? YEAH!!! OHYEAH! AND WHEN YOU GOT THE LORD YOU GONNA TALK WITH THE LORD, AM I RIGHT? YEAH! I CANT HEAR YOU, AM I RIGHT? YEAH!!! They screamed it out, many of them rocking back and forth in a frenzy now. IF IM RIGHT SAY HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! IF IM RIGHT SAY OHYEAH! OHYEAH! They rocked back and forth; Jack and Wolf were rocked with them, helplessly. Jack saw that some of the boys were actually weeping. Now tell me this, Gardener said, looking toward them warmly and confidentially. Is there any place for the evildoer here in the Sunlight Home? Huh? What do you think? No sir! cried out the thin boy with the buck teeth. Thats right, Sunlight Gardener said, approaching the podium again. He gave the mike a quick, professional flick to clear the cord out from under his feet and then he slipped it back into the clamp again. Thats the ticket. No room here for tattletale liars and workers of iniquity, say hallelujah. Hallelujah, the boys replied. Amen, Sunlight Gardener agreed. The Lord saysin the Book of Isaiah he says itthat if you lean on the Lord, youre gonna mount upohyeah!with wings as eagles, and your strength shall be the strength of ten and I say to you, boys, THAT THE SUNLIGHT HOME IS A NEST FOR EAGLES, CAN YOU SAY OHYEAH! OHYEAH! There was another caesura. Sunlight Gardener gripped the sides of the podium, head down as if in prayer, gorgeous white hair hanging in disciplined waves. When he spoke again, his voice was low and brooding. He did not look up. The boys listened breathlessly. But we have enemies, Sunlight Gardener said at last. This was little more than a whisper, but the mike picked it up and transmitted it perfectly. The boys sigheda rustle of wind through autumn leaves. Heck Bast was looking around truculently, eyes rolling, pimples glowing such a deep red that he looked like a boy in the grip of a tropical illness. Show me an enemy, Heck Basts face said. Yeah, you go on, show me an enemy and just see what happens to him! Gardener looked up. Now his mad eyes appeared filled with tears. Yes, we have enemies, he repeated. Twice now the State of Indiana has tried to shut me down. Do you know what? The radical humanists can barely stand to think of me down here at the Sunlight Home, teaching my boys to love Jesus and their country. It makes em mad, and do you want to know something, boys? Do you want to know a deep old dark secret? They leaned forward, eyes on Sunlight Gardener. We dont just make em mad, Gardener said in a hoarse conspirators whisper. We make em scaaaaaared. Hallelujah! Ohyeah! Amen! In a flash, Sunlight Gardener grabbed the mike again, and he was off! Up and down! back and forth! sometimes he jigged a twostep neat as a minstrel in a 1910 cakewalk! He bopped the word to them, pumping one arm first at the boys, then up toward heaven, where God had presumably dragged up His armchair to listen. We scare em, ohyeah! Scare em so bad they got to have another cocktail, or another joint, or another sniff of cocaine! We scare em, because even smart old Goddenying, Jesushating radical humanists like them can smell righteousness and the love of God, and when they smell that they can smell the brimstone coming out of their own pores, and they dont like that smell, oh no! So they send down an extra inspector or two to plant garbage under the kitchen counters, or to let loose some cockaroaches in the flour! They start a lot of vile rumors about how my boys are beaten. Are you beaten? NO! they roared indignantly, and Jack was dumbfounded to see Morton roaring the negative out as enthusiastically as all the rest, even though a bruise was already beginning to form on Mortons cheek. Why, they sent down a bunch of smart news reporters from some smart radical humanist news show! Sunlight Gardener cried in a kind of disgusted wonder. They came down here and they said, Okay, who are we supposed to do the hatchetjob on? Weve done a hundred and fifty already, were experts at smearing the righteous, dont worry about us, just give us a few joints and a few cocktails and point us in the right direction. But we fooled em, didnt we, boys? Rumbling, almost vicious assent. They didnt find no one chained to a beam in the barn, did they? Didnt find no boys in straitjackets, like they heard down in town from some of these hellbound School Board jackals, did they? Didnt find no boys getting their fingernails pulled, or all their hair shaved off, or nothing like that! Most they could find was some boys who said they got spanked, and they DID get spanked, ohyeah, they was spanked and Id testify on that matter myself before the Throne of Almighty God, with a liedetector strapped to each arm, because the book says if you SPARE that rod, you gonna SPOIL that child, and if you believe that, boys, you gimme hallelujah! HALLELUJAH! Even the Indiana Board of Education, much as theyd like to get rid of me and leave a clear field for the devil, even they had to admit that when it comes to spanking, Gods law and the State of Indianas law runs just about the same that if you SPARE that rod, you gonna SPOIL that child! They found HAPPY boys! They found HEALTHY boys! They found boys who were willing to WALK the Lord and TALK the Lord, oh can you say hallelujah? They could. Can you say ohyeah? They could do that, too. Sunlight Gardener came back to the podium. The Lord protects those that love Him, and the Lord is not gonna see a bunch of dopesmoking, communistloving radical humanists take away this resting place for tired, confused boys. There were a few boys who told tattletale lies to those socalled newspeople, Gardener said. I heard the lies repeated on that TV news show, and although the boys slinging that mud were too cowardly to show their own faces on the screen, I knewohyeah!I knew those voices. When youve fed a boy, when youve held his head tenderly against your breast when he cries for his momma in the night, why, I guess then you know his voice. Those boys are gone now. God may forgive themI hope He does, ohyeahbut Sunlight Gardener is just a man. He hung his head to show what a shameful admission this was. But when he raised it again, his eyes were still hot, sparkling with fury. Sunlight Gardener cannot forgive them. So Sunlight Gardener set them out on the road again. They have been sent out into the Territories, but there they shall not be fed; there even the trees may eat them up, like beasts which walk in the night. Terrified silence in the room. Behind the glass panel, even Casey looked pallid and strange. The Book says that God sent Cain out to the East of Eden, into the land of Nod. Being cast out onto the road is like that, my boys. You have a safe haven here. He surveyed them. But if you weaken . . . if you lie . . . then woe unto you! Hell awaits the backslider just as it awaits the boy or man who dives into it on purpose. Remember, boys. Remember. Let us pray. 23 Ferd Janklow 1 It took Jack less than a week to decide that a detour into the Territories was the only way they could possibly escape the Sunlight Home. He was willing to try that, but he found he would do almost anything, run any risk, if only he could avoid flipping from the Sunlight Home itself. There was no concrete reason for this, only the voice of his undermind whispering that what was bad here would be worse over there. This was, perhaps, a bad place in all worlds . . . like a bad spot in an apple which goes all the way to the core. Anyway, the Sunlight Home was bad enough; he had no urge to see what its Territories counterpart looked like unless he had to. But there might be a way. Wolf and Jack and the other boys not lucky enough to be on the Outside Staffand that was most of themspent their days in what the longtimers called Far Field. It was about a mile and half down the road, at the edge of Gardeners property, and there the boys spent their days picking rocks. There was no other fieldwork to be done at this time of year. The last of the crops had been harvested in midOctober, but as Sunlight Gardener had pointed out each morning in Chapel Devotions, rocks were always in season. Sitting in the back of one of the Homes two dilapidated farmtrucks each morning, Jack surveyed Far Field while Wolf sat beside him, head down, like a boy with a hangover. It had been a rainy fall in the midwest, and Far Field was a gluey, sticky, muddy mess. Day before yesterday one of the boys had cursed it under his breath and called it a real bootsucker. Suppose we just take off? Jack thought for the fortieth time. Suppose I just yell Go for it! at Wolf and we start busting our buns? Where? North end, where those trees are, and the rock wall. Thats where his land ends. There might be a fence. Well climb over it. For that matter, Wolf can throw me over it, if he has to. Might be barbed wire. Wiggle under it. Or Or Wolf could tear it apart with his bare hands. Jack didnt like to think of it, but he knew Wolf had the strength . . . and if he asked, Wolf would do it. It would rip up the big guys hands, but he was getting ripped up in worse ways right now. And then what? Flip, of course. That was what. If they could just get off the land that belonged to the Sunlight Home, that undervoice whispered, they would have a fighting chance all the way clear. And Singer and Bast (whom Jack had come to think of as the Thuggsy Twins) would not be able to use one of the trucks to run them down; the first truck to turn wheels into Far Field before the deep frosts of December would mire itself rockerpanel deep. Itd be a footrace, pure and simple. Got to try it. Better than trying it back there, at the Home. And And it wasnt just Wolfs growing distress that was driving him; he was now nearly frantic about Lily, who was back in New Hampshire dying by inches while Jack said hallelujah under duress. Go for it. Magic juice or no magic juice. Got to try. But before Jack was quite ready, Ferd Janklow tried. Great minds run in the same channel, can you say amen. 2 When it happened, it happened fast. At one moment Jack was listening to Ferd Janklows usual line of cynical, amusing bullshit. At the next, Ferd was pelting north across the murky field toward the stone wall. Until Ferd went for it, the day had seemed as drearily ordinary as any other at the Sunlight Home. It was cold and overcast; there was a smell of rain, possibly even snow in the air. Jack looked up to ease his aching back, and also to see if Sonny Singer was around. Sonny enjoyed harassing Jack. Most of the harassment was of the nuisance variety. Jack had his feet stepped on, he was pushed on the stairs, his plate had been knocked out of his hands for three meals runninguntil he had learned to simultaneously cradle it on the inner side of his body and hold it in a deathgrip. Jack wasnt completely sure why Sonny hadnt organized a mass stomping. Jack thought maybe it was because Sunlight Gardener was interested in the new boy. He didnt want to think that, it scared him to think that, but it made sense. Sonny Singer was holding off because Sunlight Gardener had told him to, and that was another reason to get out of here in a hurry. He looked to his right. Wolf was about twenty yards away, grubbing rocks with his hair in his face. Closer by was a gantrythin boy with buck teethDonald Keegan, his name was. Donny grinned at him worshipfully, baring those amazing buck teeth. Spit dribbled from the end of his lolling tongue. Jack looked away quickly. Ferd Janklow was on his leftthe boy with the narrow Delftware hands and the deep widows peak. In the week since Jack and Wolf had been incarcerated in the Sunlight Home, he and Ferd had become good friends. Ferd was grinning cynically. Donnys in love with you, he said. Blow it out, Jack said uncomfortably, feeling a flush rise in his cheeks. I bet Donnyd blow it out if you let him, Ferd said. Wouldnt you, Donny? Donny Keegan laughed his big, rusty yuckyuck, not having the slightest idea of what they were talking about. I wish youd quit it, Jack said. He felt more uncomfortable than ever. Donnys in love with you. The bloody hell of it was, he thought that maybe poor, retarded Donny Keegan really was in love with him . . . and Donny was maybe not the only one. Oddly, Jack found himself thinking of the nice man who had offered to take him home and who had then settled for dropping him off at the mall exit near Zanesville. He saw it first, Jack thought. Whatevers new about me, that man saw it first. Ferd said, Youve gotten very popular around here, Jack. Why, I think even old Heck Bast would blow it out for you, if you asked him. Man, thats sick, Jack said, flushing. I mean Abruptly, Ferd dropped the rock he had been working at and stood up. He looked swiftly around, saw none of the white turtlenecks were looking at him, and then turned back to Jack. And now, my darling, he said, its been a very dull party, and I really must be going. Ferd made kissing noises at Jack, and then a grin of amazing radiance lit and broadened Ferds narrow, pale face. A moment later he was in full flight, running for the rock wall at the end of Far Field, running in big gangling storklike strides. He did indeed catch the guards nappingat least to a degree. Pedersen was talking about girls with Warwick and a horsefaced boy named Peabody, an Outside Staffer who had been rotated back to the Home for a while. Heck Bast had been granted the supreme pleasure of accompanying Sunlight Gardener to Muncie on some errand. Ferd got a good headstart before a startled cry went up Hey! Hey, someones takin off! Jack gaped after Ferd, who was already six rows over and humping like hell. In spite of seeing his own plan coopted, Jack felt a moment of triumphant excitement, and in his heart he wished him nothing but well. Go! Go, you sarcastic son of a bitch! Go, for Jasons sake! Its Ferd Janklow, Donny Keegan gurgled, and then laughed his big, whooping laugh. 3 The boys gathered for confession in the common room that night as they always did, but confession was cancelled. Andy Warwick strode in, announced the cancellation with abrupt baldness, and told them they could have an hour of fellowship before dinner. Then he strode out. Jack thought Warwick had looked, under his patina of goosestepping authority, frightened. And Ferd Janklow was not here. Jack looked around the room and thought with glum humor that if this was fellowship one with the other, he would hate to see what would happen if Warwick had told them to have a quiet hour. They sat around the big long room, thirtynine boys between age twelve and age seventeen, looking at their hands, picking at scabs, morosely biting their nails. They all shared a common lookjunkies robbed of their fix. They wanted to hear confessions; even more, they wanted to make confessions. No one mentioned Ferd Janklow. It was as though Ferd, with his grimaces at Sunlight Gardeners sermons and his pale Delftware hands, had never existed. Jack found himself barely able to restrain an impulse to stand and scream at them. Instead, he began to think as hard as he ever had in his life. Hes not here because they killed him. Theyre all mad. You think madness isnt catching? Just look what happened at that nutty place down in South Americawhen the man in the reflector sunglasses told them to drink the purple grape drink, they said yassuh, boss, and drank it. Jack looked around at the dreary, indrawn, tired, blank facesand thought how they would light, how they would kindle, if Sunlight Gardener strode in hereif he strode in here right here and now. Theyd do it, too, if Sunlight Gardener asked them to. Theyd drink it, and then theyd hold me and Wolf, and theyd pour it down our throats as well. Ferd was rightthey see something on my face, or in it, something that came into me in the Territories, and maybe they do love me a little . . .


I guess thats what pulled Heck Basts bellrope anyway. That slob isnt used to loving anything or anyone. So, yeah, maybe they do love me a little . . . but they love him a lot more. Theyd do it. Theyre mad. Ferd could have told him that, and, sitting there in the common room, Jack supposed that Ferd had told him. He told Jack he had been committed to the Sunlight Home by his parents, bornagain Christians who fell down on their knees in the living room whenever anyone on The 700 Club began to say a prayer. Neither of them had understood Ferd, who was cut from an entirely different bolt of cloth. They thought Ferd must be a child of the devila communistic, radical humanist changeling. When he ran away for the fourth time and was bagged by none other than Franky Williams, his parents came to the Sunlight Homewhere Ferd had of course been stashedand fell in love with Sunlight Gardener on sight. Here was the answer to all the problems their bright, troublesome, rebellious son had caused them. Sunlight Gardener would educate their son toward the Lord. Sunlight Gardener would show him the error of his ways. Sunlight Gardener would take him off their hands and get him off the streets of Anderson. They saw that story about the Sunlight Home on Sunday Report, Ferd told Jack. They sent me a postcard saying God would punish liars and false prophets in a lake of fire. I wrote them backRudolph in the kitchen smuggled the letter out for me. Dolphs a pretty good guy. He paused. You know what the Ferd Janklow definition of a good guy is, Jack? No. One who stays bought, Ferd said, and laughed a cynical, hurt laugh. Two bucks buys Dolphs mailman services. So I wrote them a letter and said that if God punished liars the way they said, then I hoped Sunlight Gardener could find a set of asbestos longjohns in the other world, because he was lying about what goes on here faster than a horse can trot. Everything they had on Sunday Reportthe rumors about the straitjackets and about the Boxit was all true. Oh, they couldnt prove it. The guys a nut, Jack, but hes a smart nut. If you ever make a mistake about that, hell put a real hurt on you and on Phil the Fearless WolfBoy for good measure. Jack said, Those Sunday Report guys are usually pretty good at catching people with their hands in the pork barrel. At least, thats what my mom says. Oh, he was scared. He got real shrill and shrieky. Ever see Humphrey Bogart in The Caine Mutiny? He was like that for a week before they showed up. When they finally got here he was all sweetness and reason, but the week before was a living hell. Mr. Ice Cream was shitting in his pants. That was the week he kicked Benny Woodruff down the stairs from the third floor because he caught him with a Superman comic. Benny was out cold for three hours, and he couldnt quite get it straight who he was or where he was until that night. Ferd paused. He knew they were coming. Same as he always knows when the state inspectors are going to pull a surprise inspection. He hid the straitjackets in the attic and made believe the Box was a haydrying shed. Ferds cynical, hurt laugh again. Know what my folks did, Jack? They sent Sunny Gardener a Xerox of my letter to them. For my own good, my pop says in his next letter to me. And guess what? Its Ferds turn in the Box, courtesy of my own folks! The hurt laugh again. Tell you one other thing. He wasnt kidding at nightchapel. The kids that talked to the Sunday Report people all disappearedthe ones he could get hold of, anyway. The way Ferd himself has disappeared now, Jack thought, watching Wolf brood across the room. He shivered. His hands felt very, very cold. Your friend Phil the Fearless WolfBoy. Was Wolf starting to look hairier again? So soon? Surely not. But that was coming of courseit was as relentless as the tides. And by the way, Jack, while were just sitting around here worrying about the dangers of just sitting around here, hows your mother? Hows Darling Lil, Queen of the Bs? Losing weight? Having pain? Is she finally starting to feel it eat into her with its sharp, ratty little teeth as you sit here growing roots in this weird prison? Is Morgan maybe getting ready to wind up the lightning and give the cancer a hand? He had been shocked at the idea of straitjackets, and although he had seen the Boxa big ugly iron thing which sat in the Homes back yard like a weird abandoned refrigeratorhe couldnt believe that Gardener actually put boys in it. Ferd had slowly convinced him, talking in a low voice as they harvested rocks in Far Field. Hes got a great setup here, Ferd had said. Its a license to coin money. His religious shows play all over the midwest on the radio and over most of the country on cable TV and the indy stations. Were his captive audience. We sound great on the radio and we look great on the tubewhen Roy Owdersfelt isnt milking that fucking pimple on the end of his nose, that is. Hes got Casey, his pet radio and TV producerCasey videotapes every morningchapel and audiotapes every nightchapel. He cuts all the sound and picture together and hypes everything until Gardener looks like Billy Graham and us guys sound like the crowd in Yankee Stadium during the seventh game of the World Series. That isnt all Casey does, either. Hes the house genius. You see the bug in your room? Casey set up the bugs. Everything feeds into his control room, and the only way into that control room is through Gardeners private office. The bugs are voiceactuated, so he doesnt waste any tape. Anything juicy he saves for Sunlight Gardener. Ive heard Casey put a blue box on Gardeners phone so he can make longdistance phone calls free, and I know damned well hes spliced a line into the payTV cable that goes by out front. You like the idea of Mr. Ice Cream settling back and watching a big double feature on Cinemax after a hard day of selling Jesus to the masses? I like it. This guy is as American as spinner hubcaps, Jack, and here in Indiana they love him almost as much as they love highschool basketball. Ferd hawked back snot, grimaced, twisted his head, and spat into the dirt. Youre kidding, Jack said. Ferd Janklow never kids about the Marching Morons of the Sunlight Home, Ferd said solemnly. Hes rich, he doesnt have to declare any of it to the Internal Revenue, hes got the local school board buffaloedI mean, theyre scared to death of him; theres this one woman who practically skitters every time shes out here, looks like shed like to give him the sign against the evil eye, or somethingand like I said, he always seems to know when someone from the State Education Board is going to pay us a surprise visit. We clean this place from top to bottom, Bast the Bastard takes the canvas overcoats up to the attic, and the Box gets filled with hay from the barn. And when they come, were always in class. How many classes you been in since you landed here in Indianas version of the Love Boat, Jack? None, Jack said. None! Ferd agreed, delighted. He laughed his cynical, hurt laugh againthat laugh said, Guess what I found out when I turned eight or so? I found out that I was getting a royal fucking from life, and that things werent going to change in a hurry. Or maybe they were never going to change. And although it bums me out, it also has its funny side. You know what I mean, jellybean? 4 Such was the run of Jacks thoughts when hard fingers suddenly grasped the back of his neck at the pressurepoints below the ears and lifted him out of his chair. He was turned around into a cloud of foul breath and treatedif that was the wordto the sterile moonscape of Heck Basts face. Me and the Reverend was still in Muncie when they brought your queer troublemaker friend into the hospital, he said. His fingers pulsed and squeezed, pulsed and squeezed. The pain was excruciating. Jack moaned and Heck grinned. The grin allowed bad breath to escape his mouth in even greater quantities. Reverend got the news on his beeper. Janklow looked like a taco that spent about fortyfive minutes in a microwave oven. Its gonna be a while before they put that boy back together again. Hes not talking to me, Jack thought. Hes talking to the whole room. Were supposed to get the message that Ferds still alive. Youre a stinking liar, he said. Ferds Heck Bast hit him. Jack went sprawling on the floor. Boys scattered away from him. From somewhere, Donny Keegan heehawed. There was a roar of rage. Jack looked up, dazed, and shook his head in an effort to clear it. Heck turned and saw Wolf standing protectively over Jack, his upper lip pulled back, the overhead lights sending weird orange glints off his round glasses. So the dumbhead finally wants to dance, Heck said, beginning to grin. Hey, all right! I love to dance. Come on, snotface. Come on over here and lets dance. Still growling, saliva now coating his lower lip, Wolf began to move forward. Heck moved to meet him. Chairs scraped across linoleum as people moved back hurriedly to give them room. Whats going on h From the door. Sonny Singer. No need to finish his question; he saw what was going on here. Smiling, he pulled the door shut and leaned against it, watching, arms crossed over his narrow chest, his dark narrow face now alight. Jack switched his gaze back to Wolf and Heck. Wolf, be careful! he shouted. Ill be careful, Jack, Wolf said, his voice little more than a growl. Ill Lets dance, asshole, Heck Bast grunted, and threw a whistling, countryboy roundhouse. It hit Wolf high on the right cheekbone, driving him backward three or four steps. Donny Keegan laughed his high, whinnying laugh, which Jack now knew was as often a signal of dismay as of glee. The roundhouse was a good, heavy blow. Under other circumstances, the fight would probably have ended right there. Unfortunately for Hector Bast, it was also the only blow he landed. He advanced confidently, big fists up at chest height, and drove the roundhouse again. This time Wolfs arm moved upward and outward to meet it. Wolf caught Hecks fist. Hecks hand was big. Wolfs hand was bigger. Wolfs fist swallowed Hecks. Wolfs fist clenched. From within it came a sound like small dry sticks first cracking, then breaking. Hecks confident smile first curdled, then froze solid. A moment later he began to shriek. Shouldnt have hurt the herd, you bastard, Wolf whispered. Oh your Bible this and oh your Bible thatWolf!and all you have to do is hear six verses of The Book of Good Farming to know you never . . . Crackle! . . . never . . . Crunch! NEVER hurt the herd. Heck Bast fell to his knees, howling and weeping. Wolf still held Hecks fist in his own, and Hecks arm angled up. Heck looked like a Fascist giving a Heil Hitler salute on his knees. Wolfs arm was as rigid as stone, but his face showed no real effort; it was, except for the blazing eyes, almost serene. Blood began to drip out of Wolfs fist. Wolf, stop! Thats enough! Jack looked around swiftly and saw that Sonny was gone, the door standing open. Almost all of the boys were on their feet now. They had drawn away from Wolf as far as the rooms walls would allow, their faces awed and fearful. And still the tableau held in the center of the room Heck Bast on his knees, arms up and out, his fist swallowed in Wolfs, blood pouring onto the floor from Wolfs fist. People crowded back into the doorway. Casey, Warwick, Sonny Singer, three more big guys. And Sunlight Gardener, with a small black case, like a glassescase, in one hand. Thats enough, I said! Jack took one look at the newcomers and raced toward Wolf. Right here and now! Right here and now! All right, Wolf said quietly. He let go of Hecks hand, and Jack saw a horrible crushed thing that looked like a mangled pinwheel. Hecks fingers stuck off at jagged angles. Heck mewled and held his destroyed hand against his chest. All right, Jack. The six of them grabbed Wolf. Wolf made a halfturn, slipped one arm free, pushed, and suddenly Warwick went rattling against the wall. Someone screamed. Hold him! Gardener yelled. Hold him! Hold him, for Jesus sake! He was opening the flat black case. No, Wolf! Jack shouted. Quit it! For a moment Wolf went on struggling, and then he slumped back, allowing them to push him to the wall. To Jack they looked like Lilliputians clinging to Gulliver. Sonny looked afraid of Wolf at last. Hold him, Gardener repeated, taking a glittering hypodermic out of the flat case. That mincing, almost coy smile had come onto his face. Hold him, praise Jesus! You dont need that, Jack said. Jack? Wolf looked suddenly frightened. Jack? Jack? Gardener, headed for Wolf, pushed Jack as he went by. There was good whipcord muscle in that push. Jack went reeling into Morton, who squealed and shrank away as if Jack were contaminated. Belatedly, Wolf began to struggle againbut they were six, and that was too many. Perhaps, when the Change was on him, it wouldnt have been. Jack! he howled. Jack! Jack! Hold him, praise God, Gardener whispered, his lips skinned back brutally from his teeth, and plunged the hypodermic into Wolfs arm. Wolf went rigid, threw his head back, and howled. Kill you, you bastard, Jack thought incoherently. Kill you, kill you, kill you. Wolf struggled and thrashed. Gardener stood back, watching coldly. Wolf got a knee up into Caseys expansive gut. Casey whoofed air out, staggered backward, then came back. A minute or two later, Wolf began first to flag . . . then to sag. Jack got to his feet, weeping with rage. He tried to plunge toward the knot of white turtlenecks holding his friendas he watched he saw Casey swing a fist into Wolfs drooping face, and saw blood begin to pour from Wolfs nose. Hands held him back. He struggled, then looked around and saw the frightened faces of the boys he picked rocks with in Far Field. I want him in the Box, Gardener said as Wolfs knees finally buckled. He looked slowly around at Jack. Unless . . . perhaps youd like to tell me where weve met before, Mr. Parker? Jack stood looking down at his feet, saying nothing. His eyes stung and burned with hot, hateful tears. The Box, then, Gardener said. You may feel different when he starts to vocalize, Mr. Parker. Gardener strode out. 5 Wolf was still screaming in the Box when Jack and the other boys were marched down to morningchapel. Sunlight Gardeners eyes seemed to dwell ironically on Jacks pale, strained face. Perhaps now, Mr. Parker? Wolf, its my mother, my mother Wolf was still screaming when Jack and the other boys scheduled for fieldwork were split into two groups and marched out to the trucks. As he passed near the Box, Jack had to suppress an urge to jam his hands over his ears. Those growls, those gibbering sobs. All at once Sonny Singer was at his shoulder. Reverend Gardeners in his office waiting to take your confession right this minute, snotface, he said. Told me to tell you hell let the dummy out of the Box the minute you tell him what he wants to know. Sonnys voice was silky, his face dangerous. Wolf, screaming and howling to be let out, pounding the homeriveted iron sides of the Box with a fury of blows. Ah, Wolf, shes my MOTHER I cant tell him what he wants to know, Jack said. He turned suddenly toward Sonny, turning the force of whatever had come into him in the Territories upon Sonny. Sonny took two giant steps backward, his face dismayed and sickly scared. He tripped over his own feet and stumbled into the side of one of the idling trucks. If it hadnt been there, he would have fallen down. All right, Sonny said . . . the words came out in a breathy rush that was close to a whine. All right, all right, forget it. His thin face grew arrogant again. Reverend Gardener told me if you said no that I should tell you that your friends screaming for you. Do you get it? I know who hes screaming for. Get in the truck! Pedersen said grimly, barely looking at them as he passed by . . . but when he passed Sonny, Pedersen grimaced as though he had smelled something rotten. Jack could hear Wolf screaming even after the trucks got rolling, though the mufflers on both were little more than scallops of iron lace and the engines blatted stridently. Nor did Wolfs screams fade. He had made some sort of connection with Wolfs mind now, and he could hear Wolf screaming even after the work parties had reached Far Field. The understanding that these screams were only in his mind did nothing at all to improve matters. Around lunchtime, Wolf fell silent, and Jack knew, suddenly and with no doubt at all, that Gardener had ordered him taken out of the Box before his screams and howls attracted the wrong sort of attention. After what had happened to Ferd, he wouldnt want any attention at all focused on the Sunlight Home. When the work parties returned that late afternoon, the door of the Box was standing open and the Box was empty. Upstairs in the room they shared, Wolf was lying on the lower bunk. He smiled wanly as Jack came in. Hows your head, Jack? Bruise looks a little better. Wolf! Wolf, are you all right? Screamed, didnt I? Couldnt help it. Wolf, Im sorry, Jack said. Wolf looked strangetoo white, somehow diminished. Hes dying, Jack thought. No, his mind corrected; Wolf had been dying ever since they had flipped into this world to escape Morgan. But now he was dying faster. Too white . . . diminished . . . but . . . Jack felt a creeping chill. Wolfs bare legs and arms werent really bare; they were downed with a fine pelt of hair. It hadnt been there two nights ago, he was sure of that. He felt an urge to rush over to the window and stare out, searching for the moon, trying to make sure he hadnt somehow misplaced about seventeen days. Its not the time of the Change, Jacky, Wolf said. His voice was dry, somehow huskedout. The voice of an invalid. But I started to change in that dark smelly place they put me in. Wolf! I did. Because I was so mad and scared. Because I was yelling and screaming. Yelling and screaming can make the Change all by themselves, if a Wolf does it long enough. Wolf brushed at the hair on his legs. Itll go away. Gardener set a price for letting you out, Jack said, but I couldnt pay it. I wanted to, but . . . Wolf . . . my mother . . . His voice blurred and wavered toward tears. Shhh, Jacky. Wolf knows. Right here and now. Wolf smiled his terrible wan smile again, and took Jacks hand. 24 Jack Names the Planets 1 Another week in the Sunlight Home, praise God. The moon put on weight. On Monday, a smiling Sunlight Gardener asked the boys to bow their heads and give thanks to God for the conversion of their brother Ferdinand Janklow. Ferd had made a souldecision for Christ while recuperating in Parkland Hospital, Sunlight said, his smile radiant. Ferd had made a collect call to his parents and told them he wanted to be a soulwinner for the Lord, and they prayed for guidance right there over the longdistance line, and his parents had come to pick him up that very day. Dead and buried under some frosty Indiana field . . . or over in the Territories, perhaps, where the Indiana State Patrol could never go. Tuesday was too coldly rainy for fieldwork. Most of the boys had been allowed to stay in their rooms and sleep or read, but for Jack and Wolf, the period of harassment had begun. Wolf was lugging load after load of garbage from the barn and the sheds out to the side of the road in the driving rain. Jack had been set to work cleaning toilets. He supposed that Warwick and Casey, who had assigned him this duty, thought they were giving him a really nasty job to do. It was obvious that theyd never seen the mens room of the worldfamous Oatley Tap. Just another week at the Sunlight Home, can you say ohyeah. Hector Bast returned on Wednesday, his right arm in a cast up to the elbow, his big, doughy face so pallid that the pimples on it stood out like garish dots of rouge. Doctor says I may never get the use of it back, Heck Bast said. You and your numbnuts buddy have got a lot to answer for, Parker. You aiming to have the same thing happen to your other hand? Jack asked him . . . but he was afraid. It was not just a desire for revenge he saw in Hecks eyes; it was a desire to commit murder. Im not afraid of him, Heck said. Sonny says they took most of the mean out of him in the Box. Sonny says hell do anything to keep from going back in. As for you Hecks left fist flashed out. He was even clumsier with his left hand than with his right, but Jack, stunned by the big boys pallid rage, never saw it coming. His lips spread into a weird smile under Hecks fist and broke open. He reeled back against the wall. A door opened and Billy Adams looked out. Shut that door or Ill see you get a helping! Heck screamed, and Adams, not anxious for a dose of assault and battery, complied in a hurry. Heck started toward Jack. Jack pushed groggily away from the wall and raised his fists. Heck stopped. Youd like that, wouldnt you, Heck said. Fighting with a guy thats only got one good hand. Color rushed up into his face. Footsteps rattled on the third floor, heading toward the stairs. Heck looked at Jack. Thats Sonny. Go on. Get out of here. Were gonna get you, my friend. You and the dummy both. Reverend Gardener says we can, unless you tell him whatever it is he wants to know. Heck grinned. Do me a favor, snotface. Dont tell him. 2 They had taken something out of Wolf in the Box, all right, Jack thought. Six hours had passed since his hallway confrontation with Heck Bast. The bell for confession would ring soon, but for now Wolf was sleeping heavily in the bunk below him. Outside, rain continued to rattle off the sides of the Sunlight Home. It wasnt meanness, and Jack knew it wasnt just the Box that had taken it. Not even just the Sunlight Home. It was this whole world. Wolf was, simply, pining for home. He had lost most of his vitality. He smiled rarely and laughed not at all. When Warwick yelled at him at lunch for eating with his fingers, Wolf cringed. It has to be soon, Jacky. Because Im dying. Wolfs dying. Heck Bast said he wasnt afraid of Wolf, and indeed there seemed nothing left to be afraid of; it seemed that crushing Hecks hand had been the last strong act of which Wolf was capable. The confession bell rang. That night, after confession and dinner and chapel, Jack and Wolf came back to their room to find both of their beds dripping wet and reeking of urine. Jack went to the door, yanked it open, and saw Sonny, Warwick, and a big lunk named Van Zandt standing in the hall, grinning. Guess we got the wrong room, snotface, Sonny said. Thought it had to be the toilet, on account of the turds we always see floating around in there. Van Zandt almost ruptured himself laughing at this sally. Jack stared at them for a long moment, and Van Zandt stopped laughing. Who you looking at, turd? You want your fucking nose broke off? Jack closed the door, looked around, and saw Wolf asleep in his wet bunk with all his clothes on. Wolfs beard was coming back, but still his face looked pale, the skin stretched and shiny. It was an invalids face. Leave him alone, then, Jack thought wearily. If hes that tired, let him sleep in it. No. You will not leave him alone to sleep in that fouled bed. You will not! Tiredly, Jack went to Wolf, shook him halfawake, got him off the wet, stinking mattress, and out of his biballs. They slept curled up together on the floor. At four in the morning, the door opened and Sonny and Heck marched in. They yanked Jack up and halfcarried him down to Sunlight Gardeners basement office. Gardener was sitting with his feet up on the corner of his desk. He was fully dressed in spite of the hour. Behind him was a picture of Jesus walking on the Sea of Galilee while his disciples gawped in wonder. To his right was a glass window looking into the darkened studio where Casey worked his idiotsavant wonders. There was a heavy keychain attached to one of Gardeners beltloops. The keys, a heavy bunch of them, lay in the palm of his hand. He played with them while he spoke. You havent given us a single confession since you got here, Jack, Sunlight Gardener said, his tone one of mild reproof. Confession is good for the soul. Without confession we cannot be saved. Oh, I dont mean the idolatrous, heathenish confession of the Catholics. I mean confession before your brothers and your Saviour. Ill keep it between me and my Saviour, if its all the same to you, Jack said evenly, and in spite of his fear and disorientation, he could not help relishing the expression of fury which overspread Gardeners face. Its not all the same to me! Gardener screamed. Pain exploded in Jacks kidneys. He fell to his knees. Watch what you say to Reverend Gardener, snotface, Sonny said. Some of us around here stand up for him. God bless you for your trust and your love, Sonny, Gardener said gravely, and turned his attention to Jack again. Get up, son. Jack managed to get up, holding on to the edge of Sunlight Gardeners expensive blondewood desk. Whats your real name? Jack Parker. He saw Gardener nod imperceptibly, and tried to turn, but it was a moment too late. Fresh pain exploded in his kidneys. He screamed and went down again, knocking the fading bruise on his forehead against the edge of Gardeners desk. Where are you from, you lying, impudent, devils spawn of a boy? Pennsylvania. Pain exploded in the meaty upper part of his left thigh. He rolled into a fetal position on the white Karastan carpet, huddled with his knees against his chest. Get him up. Sonny and Heck got him up. Gardener reached into the pocket of his white jacket and took out a Zippo lighter. He flicked the wheel, produced a big yellow flame, and brought the flame slowly toward Jacks face. Nine inches. He could smell the sweet, pungent reek of lighter fluid. Six inches. Now he could feel heat. Three inches. Another inchmaybe just half thatand discomfort would turn to pain. Sunlight Gardeners eyes were hazyhappy. His lips trembled on the edge of a smile. Yeah! Hecks breath was hot, and it smelled like mouldy pepperoni. Yeah, do it! Where do I know you from? I never met you before! Jack gasped. The flame moved closer. Jacks eyes began to water, and he could feel his skin beginning to sear. He tried to pull his head back. Sonny Singer pushed it forward. Where have I met you? Gardener rasped. The lighters flame danced deep in his black pupils, each deep spark a twinner of the other. Last chance! Tell him, for Gods sake tell him! If we ever met I dont remember it, Jack gasped. Maybe California The Zippo clicked closed. Jack sobbed with relief. Take him back, Gardener said. They yanked Jack toward the door. It wont do you any good, you know, Sunlight Gardener said. He had turned around and appeared to be meditating on the picture of Christ walking on water. Ill get it out of you. If not tonight, then tomorrow night. If not tomorrow night, then the night after. Why not make it easy on yourself, Jack? Jack said nothing. A moment later he felt his arm twisted up to his shoulder blades. He moaned. Tell him! Sonny whispered. And part of Jack wanted to, not because he was hurt but becausebecause confession was good for the soul. He remembered the muddy courtyard, he remembered this same man in a different envelope of skin asking who he was, he remembered thinking Ill tell you anything you want to know if only youll stop looking at me with those freakedout eyes of yours, sure, because Im only a kid, and thats what kids do, they tell, they tell everything Then he remembered his mothers voice, that tough voice, asking him if he was going to spill his guts to this guy. I cant tell you what I dont know, he said. Gardeners lips parted in a small, dry smile. Take him back to his room, he said. 3 Just another week in the Sunlight Home, can you say amen, brothers and sisters. Just another long, long week. Jack lingered in the kitchen after the others had taken in their breakfast dishes and left. He knew perfectly well that he was risking another beating, more harassment . . . but by this time, that seemed a minor consideration. Only three hours before, Sunlight Gardener had come within an ace of burning his lips off. He had seen it in the mans crazy eyes, and felt it in the mans crazy heart. After something like that, the risk of a beating seemed a very minor consideration indeed. Rudolphs cooks whites were as gray as the lowering November sky outside. When Jack spoke his name in a nearwhisper, Rudolph turned a bloodshot, cynical gaze on him. Cheap whiskey was strong on his breath. You better get outta here, new fish. Theyre keepin an eye on you pretty good. Tell me something I dont know. Jack glanced nervously toward the antique dishwasher, which thumped and hissed and gasped its steamy dragons breath at the boys loading it. They seemed not to be looking at Jack and Rudolph, but Jack knew that seemed was really the operant word. Tales would be carried. Oh yes. At the Sunlight Home they took away your dough, and carried tales became a kind of replacement currency. I need to get out of here, Jack said. Me and my big friend. How much would you take to look the other way while we went out that back door? More than you could pay me even if you could get your hands on what they took from you when they hod you in here, buddyroo, Rudolph said. His words were hard but he looked at Jack with a bleary sort of kindness. Yes, of courseit was all gone, everything. The guitarpick, the silver dollar, the big croaker marble, his six dollars . . . all gone. Sealed in an envelope and held somewhere, probably in Gardeners office downstairs. But Look, Id give you an IOU. Rudolph grinned. Comin from someone in this den of thieves and dopeaddicts, thats almost funny, he said. Piss on your fuckin IOU, old hoss. Jack turned all the new force that was in him upon Rudolph. There was a way to hide that force, that new beautyto a degree, at leastbut now he let it all come out, and saw Rudolph step back from it, his face momentarily confused and amazed. My IOU would be good and I think you know it, Jack said quietly. Give me an address and Ill mail you the cash. How much? Ferd Janklow said that for two bucks youd mail a letter for someone. Would ten be enough to look the other way just long enough for us to take a walk? Not ten, not twenty, not a hundred, Rudolph said quietly. He now looked at the boy with a sadness that scared Jack badly. It was that look as much as anything elsemaybe morethat told him just how badly he and Wolf were caught. Yeah, Ive done it before. Sometimes for five bucks. Sometimes, believe it or not, for free. I would have done it free for Ferdie Janklow. He was a good kid. These fuckers Rudolph raised one water and detergentreddened fist and shook it toward the greentiled wall. He saw Morton, the accused pudpuller, looking at him, and Rudolph glared horribly at him. Morton looked away in a hurry. Then why not? Jack asked desperately. Because Im scared, hoss, Rudolph said. What do you mean? The night I came here, when Sonny started to give you some trouble Singer! Rudolph flapped one hand contemptuously. I aint scared of Singer, and I aint scared of Bast, no matter how big he is. Its him Im afraid of. Gardener? Hes a devil from hell, Rudolph said. He hesitated and then added, Ill tell you something I never told nobody else. One week he was late givin me my pay envelope and I went downstairs to his office. Most times I dont, I dont like to go down there, but this time I had to . . . well, I had to see a man. I needed my money in a hurry, you know what I mean? And I seen him go down the hall and into his office, so I knew he was there. I went down and knocked on the door, and it swung open when I did, because it hadnt completely latched. And you know what, kid? He wasnt there. Rudolphs voice had lowered steadily as he told this story, until Jack could barely hear the cook over the thump and wheeze of the dishwasher. At the same time, his eyes had widened like the eyes of a child reliving a scary dream.


I thought maybe he was in that recordinstudio thing they got, but he wasnt. And he hadnt gone into the chapel because theres no direct connectin door. Theres a door to the outside from his office, but it was locked and bolted on the inside. So where did he go, buddyroo? Where did he go? Jack, who knew, could only look at Rudolph numbly. I think hes a devil from hell and he took some weird elevator down to report to fuckin HQ, Rudolph said. Id like to help you but I cant. There aint enough money in Fort Knox for me to cross the Sunlight Man. Now you get out of here. Maybe they aint noticed youre missin. But they had, of course. As he came out through the swinging doors, Warwick stepped up behind him and clubbed Jack in the middle of the back with hands interlaced to form one gigantic fist. As he went stumbling forward through the deserted cafeteria, Casey appeared from nowhere like an evil jackinthebox and stuck out a foot. Jack couldnt stop. He tripped over Caseys foot, his own feet went out from under him, and he sprawled in a tangle of chairs. He got up, fighting back tears of rage and shame. You dont want to be so slow taking in your dishes, snotface, Casey said. You could get hurt. Warwick grinned. Yeah. Now get on upstairs. The trucks are waiting to leave. 4 At four the next morning he was awakened and taken down to Sunlight Gardeners office again. Gardener looked up from his Bible as if surprised to see him. Ready to confess, Jack Parker? I have nothing The lighter again. The flame, dancing a bare inch from the tip of his nose. Confess. Where have we met? The flame danced a little closer yet. I mean to have it out of you, Jack. Where? Where? Saturn! Jack screamed. It was all he could think of. Uranus! Mercury! Somewhere in the asteroid belt! Io! Ganymede! Dei Pain, thick and leaden and excruciating, exploded in his lower belly as Hector Bast reached between his legs with his good hand and squeezed Jacks testes. There, Heck Bast said, smiling cheerfully. Didnt you just have that coming, you hellbound mocker. Jack collapsed slowly to the floor, sobbing. Sunlight Gardener leaned slowly down, his face patientalmost beatific. Next time, it will be your friend down here, Sunlight Gardener said gently. And with him I will not hesitate. Think about it, Jack. Until tomorrow night. But tomorrow night, Jack decided, he and Wolf would not be here. If only the Territories were left, then the Territories it would be . . . . . . if he could get them back there. 25 Jack and Wolf Go to Hell 1 They had to flip from downstairs. He concentrated on that rather than on the question of whether or not they would be able to flip at all. It would be simpler to go from the room, but the miserable little cubicle he and Wolf shared was on the third floor, forty feet above the ground. Jack didnt know how exactly the Territories geography and topography corresponded to the geography and topography of Indiana, but he wasnt going to take a chance that could get their necks broken. He explained to Wolf what they would do. You understand? Yes, Wolf said listlessly. Give it back to me, anyway, pal. After breakfast, I go into the bathroom across from the common room. I go into the first stall. If no one notices Im gone, youll come in. And well go back to the Territories. Is that right, Jacky? Thats it, Jack said. He put a hand on Wolfs shoulder and squeezed it. Wolf smiled wanly. Jack hesitated and said, Im sorry I got you into this. Its all my fault. No, Jack, Wolf said kindly. Well try this. Maybe . . . A small, wistful hope seemed to glimmer briefly in Wolfs eyes. Yes, Jack said. Maybe. 2 Jack was too scared and excited to want breakfast, but he thought he might attract attention by not eating. So he shovelled in eggs and potatoes that tasted like sawdust, and even managed one fatty piece of bacon. The weather had finally cleared. There had been frost the night before, and the rocks in Far Field would be like chunks of slag embedded in hardened plastic. Plates taken out to the kitchen. Boys allowed to go back to the common room while Sonny Singer, Hector Bast, and Andy Warwick got their dayrosters. They sat around, looking blank. Pedersen had a fresh copy of the magazine the Gardener organization published, The Sunlight of Jesus. He turned the pages idly, glancing up every once in a while to look at the boys. Wolf looked a question at Jack. Jack nodded. Wolf got up and lumbered from the room. Pedersen glanced up, saw Wolf cross the hall and go into the long, narrow bathroom across the way, and then went back to his magazine. Jack counted to sixty, then forced himself to count to sixty again. They were the two longest minutes of his life. He was dreadfully afraid that Sonny and Heck would come back into the common room and order all the boys out to the trucks, and he wanted to get into the bathroom before that happened. But Pedersen wasnt stupid. If Jack followed Wolf too closely, Pedersen might suspect something. At last Jack got up and walked across the room toward the door. It seemed impossibly far away, and his heavy feet seemed to bring him no closer; it was like an optical illusion. Pederson looked up. Where are you going, snotface? Bathroom, Jack said. His tongue was dry. He had heard of peoples mouths getting dry when they were afraid, but their tongues? Theyll be upstairs in a minute, Pedersen said, nodding toward the end of the hall, where the stairs led down to the chapel, the studio, and Gardeners office. You better hold it and water Far Field. I got to take a crap, Jack said desperately. Sure. And maybe you and your big stupid friend like to pull each others dorks a little before you start the day. Just to sort of perk yourselves up. Go sit down. Well, go on, then, Pedersen said crossly. Dont just stand there and whine about it. He looked back at his magazine. Jack crossed the hall and stepped into the bathroom. 3 Wolf had picked the wrong stallhe was halfway down the line, his big, clunky workshoes unmistakable under the door. Jack pushed in. It was cramped with the two of them, and he was very aware of Wolfs strong, clearly animal odor. Okay, Jack said. Lets try it. Jack, Im scared. Jack laughed shakily. Im scared, too. How do we I dont know. Give me your hands. That seemed like a good start. Wolf put his hairy handspaws, almostin Jacks hands, and Jack felt an eerie strength flow from them into him. Wolfs strength wasnt gone after all, then. It had simply gone underground, as a spring will sometimes go underground in a savagely hot season. Jack closed his eyes. Want to get back, he said. Want to get back, Wolf, Help me! I do, Wolf breathed. I will if I can! Wolf! Here and now. Right here and now! Jack squeezed Wolfs pawhands tighter. He could smell Lysol. Somewhere he could hear a car passing. A phone rang. He thought, I am drinking the magic juice. In my mind Im drinking it, right here and now Im drinking it, I can smell it, so purple and so thick and new, I can taste it, I can feel my throat closing on it As the taste filled his throat, the world swayed under them, around them. Wolf cried out, Jacky, its working! It startled him out of his fierce concentration and for a moment he became aware that it was only a trick, like trying to get to sleep by counting sheep, and the world steadied again. The smell of the Lysol flooded back. Faintly he heard someone answer the phone querulously Yes, hello, who is it? Never mind, its not a trick, not a trick at allits magic. Its magic and I did it before when I was little and I can do it again, Speedy said so that blind singer Snowball said so, too, THE MAGIC JUICE IS IN MY MIND He bore down with all his force, all his effort of will . . . and the ease with which they flipped was stupefying, as if a punch aimed at something which looked like granite hit a cleverly painted papiermch shell instead, so that the blow you thought would break all your knuckles instead encountered no resistance at all. 4 To Jack, with his eyes screwed tightly shut, it felt as if the floor had first crumbled under his feet . . . and then disappeared completely. Oh shit were going to fall anyway, he thought dismally. But it wasnt really a fall, only a minor sideslip. A moment later he and Wolf were standing firmly, not on hard bathroom tile but on dirt. A reek of sulphur mingled with what smelled like raw sewage flooded in. It was a deathly smell, and Jack thought it meant the end of all hope. Jason! Whats that smell? Wolf groaned. Oh Jason that smell, cant stay here, Jacky, cant stay Jacks eyes snapped open. At the same moment Wolf let go of Jacks hands and blundered forward, his own eyes still tightly shut. Jack saw that Wolfs illfitting chinos and checked shirt had been replaced by the Oshkosh biballs in which Jack had originally seen the big herdsman. The John Lennon glasses were gone. And and Wolf was blundering toward the edge of a precipice less than four feet away. Wolf! He lunged at Wolf and wrapped his arms around Wolfs waist. Wolf, no! Jacky, cant stay, Wolf moaned. Its a Pit, one of the Pits, Morgan made these places, oh I heard that Morgan made them, I can smell it Wolf, theres a cliff, youll fall! Wolfs eyes opened. His jaw dropped as he saw the smokey chasm which spread at their feet. In its deepest, cloudy depths, red fire winked like infected eyes. A Pit, Wolf moaned. Oh Jacky, its a Pit. Furnaces of the Black Heart down there. Black Heart at the middle of the world. Cant stay, Jacky, its the worst bad there is. Jacks first cold thought as he and Wolf stood at the edge of the Pit, looking down into hell, or the Black Heart at the middle of the world, was that Territories geography and Indiana geography werent the same. There was no corresponding place in the Sunlight Home to this cliff, this hideous Pit. Four feet to the right, Jack thought with sudden, sickening horror. Thats all it would have takenjust four feet to the right. And if Wolf had done what I told him If Wolf had done just what Jack had told him, they would have flipped from that first stall. And if they had done that, they would have come into the Territories just over this cliffs edge. The strength ran out of his legs. He groped at Wolf again, this time for support. Wolf held him absently, his eyes wide and glowing a steady orange. His face was a grue of dismay and fear. Its a Pit, Jacky. It looked like the huge openpit molybdenum mine he had visited with his mother when they had vacationed in Colorado three winters agothey had gone to Vail to ski but one day it had been too bitterly cold for that and so they had taken a bus tour to the Continental Minerals molybdenum mine outside the little town of Sidewinder. It looks like Gehenna to me, JackO, she had said, and her face as she looked out the frostbordered bus window had been dreamy and sad. I wish theyd shut those places down, every one of them. Theyre pulling fire and destruction out of the earth. Its Gehenna, all right. Thick, choking vines of smoke rose from the depths of the Pit. Its sides were veined with thick lodes of some poisonous green metal. It was perhaps half a mile across. A road leading downward spiraled its inner circumference. Jack could see figures toiling both upward and downward upon this road. It was a prison of some kind, just as the Sunlight Home was a prison, and these were the prisoners and their keepers. The prisoners were naked, harnessed in pairs to carts like rickshawscarts filled with huge chunks of that green, greasylooking ore. Their faces were drawn in rough woodcuts of pain. Their faces were blackened with soot. Their faces ran with thick red sores. The guards toiled beside them, and Jack saw with numb dismay that they were not human; in no sense at all could they be called human. They were twisted and humped, their hands were claws, their ears pointed like Mr. Spocks. Why, theyre gargoyles! he thought. All those nightmare monsters on those cathedrals in FranceMom had a book and I thought we were going to have to see every one in the whole country but she stopped when I had a bad dream and wet the beddid they come from here? Did somebody see them here? Somebody from the Middle Ages who flipped over, saw this place, and thought hed had a vision of hell? But this was no vision. The gargoyles had whips, and over the rumble of the wheels and the sounds of rock cracking steadily under some steady, baking heat, Jack heard their pop and whistle. As he and Wolf watched, one team of men paused near the very top of the spiral road, their heads down, tendons on their necks standing out in harsh relief, their legs trembling with exhaustion. The monstrosity who was guarding thema twisted creature with a breechclout twisted around its legs and a patchy line of stiff hair growing from the scant flesh over the knobs of its spinebrought its whip down first on one and then on the other, howling at them in a high, screeching language that seemed to drive silver nails of pain into Jacks head. Jack saw the same silver beads of metal that had decorated Osmonds whip, and before he could blink, the arm of one prisoner had been torn open and the nape of the others neck lay in ruined flaps. The men wailed and leaned forward even farther, their blood the deepest color in the yellowish murk. The thing screeched and gibbered and its grayish, plated right arm flexed as it whirled the whip over the slaves heads. With a final staggering jerk, they yanked the cart up and onto the level. One of them fell forward onto his knees, exhausted, and the forward motion of the cart knocked him sprawling. One of the wheels rolled over his back. Jack heard the sound of the downed prisoners spine as it broke. It sounded like a track referees startergun. The gargoyle shrieked with rage as the cart tottered and then fell over, dumping its load onto the split, cracked, arid ground at the top of the Pit. He reached the fallen prisoner in two lunging steps and raised his whip. As he did, the dying man turned his head and looked into Jack Sawyers eyes. It was Ferd Janklow. Wolf saw, too. They groped for each other. And flipped back. 5 They were in a tight, closed placea bathroom stall, in factand Jack could barely breathe because Wolfs arms were wrapped around him in a crushing embrace. And one of his feet was sopping wet. He had somehow managed to flip back with one foot in a toiletbowl. Oh, great. Things like this never happen to Conan the Barbarian, Jack thought dismally. Jack no, Jack no, the Pit, it was the Pit, no, Jack Quit it! Quit it, Wolf! Were back! No, no, n Wolf broke off. He opened his eyes slowly. Back? You bet, right here and now, so let go of me, youre breaking my ribs, and besides, my foots stuck in the damn The door between the bathroom and the hall burst open with a bang. It struck the inner tile wall with enough force to shatter the frostedglass panel. The stall door was torn open. Andy Warwick took one look and spoke three furious, contemptuous words You fucking queers. He grabbed the dazed Wolf by the front of his checked shirt and pulled him out. Wolfs pants caught on the steel hood over the toiletpaper dispenser and pulled the whole works off the wall. It went flying. The toiletpaper roll broke free and went unspooling across the floor. Warwick sent Wolf crashing into the sinks, which were just the right height to catch him in the privates. Wolf fell to the floor, holding himself. Warwick turned to Jack, and Sonny Singer appeared at the stall door. He reached in and grabbed Jack by the front of his shirt. All right, you fag Sonny began, and that was as far as he got. Ever since he and Wolf had been dragooned into this place, Sonny Singer had been in Jacks face. Sonny Singer with his sly dark face that wanted to look just like Sunlight Gardeners face (and as soon as it could). Sonny Singer who had coined the charming endearment snotface. Sonny Singer whose idea it had undoubtedly been to piss in their beds. Jack pistoned his right fist out, not swinging wildly in the Heck Bast style but driving strong and smooth from the elbow. His fist connected with Sonnys nose. There was an audible crunch. Jack felt a moment of satisfaction so perfect it was sublime. There, Jack cried. He pulled his foot out of the john. A great grin suffused his face, and he shot a thought at Wolf just as hard as he could We aint doing that bad, Wolfyou broke one bastards hand, and I broke one bastards nose. Sonny stumbled backward, screaming, blood spouting through his fingers. Jack came out of the stall, his fists held up in front of him in a pretty fair imitation of John L. Sullivan. I told you to watch out for me, Sonny. Now Im gonna teach you to say hallelujah. Heck! Sonny screamed. Andy! Casey! Somebody! Sonny, you sound scared, Jack said. I dont know why And then somethingsomething that felt like a full hod of bricksfell on the back of his neck, driving him forward into one of the mirrors over the sinks. If it had been glass, it would have broken and cut Jack badly. But all the mirrors here were polished steel. There were to be no suicides in the Sunlight Home. Jack was able to get one arm up and cushion the blow a little, but he still felt woozy as he turned around and saw Heck Bast grinning at him. Heck Bast had hit him with the cast on his right hand. As he looked at Heck, an enormous, sickening realization suddenly dawned on Jack. It was you! That hurt like hell, Heck said, holding his plastered right hand in his left, but it was worth it, snotface. He started forward. It was you! It was you standing over Ferd in that other world, whipping him to death. It was you, you were the gargoyle, it was your Twinner! A rage so hot it was like shame swept through Jack. As Heck came in range, Jack leaned back against the sink, grasped its edge tightly in both hands, and shot both of his feet out. They caught Heck Bast squarely in the chest and sent him reeling back into the open stall. The shoe that had come back to Indiana planted in a toiletbowl left a clear wet print on Hecks white turtleneck sweater. Heck sat down in the toilet with a splash, looking stunned. His cast clunked on porcelain. Others were bursting in now. Wolf was trying to get up. His hair hung in his face. Sonny was advancing on him, one hand still clapped over his squirting nose, obviously meaning to kick Wolf back down. Yeah, you go ahead and touch him, Sonny, Jack said softly, and Sonny cringed away. Jack caught one of Wolfs arms and helped him up. He saw as if in a dream that Wolf had come back hairier than ever. Its putting him under too much stress, all of this. Its bringing on his Change and Christ this is never going to end, never . . . never. . . . He and Wolf backed away from the othersWarwick, Casey, Pedersen, Peabody, Singerand toward the rear of the bathroom. Heck was coming out of the stall Jack had kicked him into, and Jack saw something else. They had flipped from the fourth stall down the line. Heck Bast was coming out of the fifth. They had moved just far enough in that other world to come back into a different stall. They was buggering each other in there! Sonny cried, his words muffled and nasal. The retard and the pretty boy! Warwick and me caught em with their dicks out! Jacks buttocks touched cold tile. Nowhere else to run. He let go of Wolf, who slumped, dazed and pitiful, and put up his fists. Come on, he said. Whos first? You gonna take us all on? Pedersen asked. If I have to, I will, Jack said. What are you going to do, put me in traction for Jesus? Come on! A flicker of unease on Pedersens face; a cramp of outright fear on Caseys. They stopped . . . they actually stopped. Jack felt a moment of wild, stupid hope. The boys stared at him with the unease of men looking at a mad dog which can be brought down . . . but which may bite someone badly first. Stand aside, boys, a powerful, mellow voice said, and they moved aside willingly, relief lighting their faces. It was Reverend Gardener. Reverend Gardener would know how to handle this. He came toward the cornered boys, dressed this morning in charcoal slacks and a white satin shirt with full, almost Byronic, sleeves. In his hand he held that black hypodermic case. He looked at Jack and sighed. Do you know what the Bible says about homosexuality, Jack? Jack bared his teeth at him. Gardener nodded sadly, as if this were no more than he had expected. Well, all boys are bad, he said. Its axiomatic. He opened the case. The hypo glittered. I think that you and your friend have been doing something even worse than sodomy, however, Gardener went on in his mellow, regretful voice. Going to places better left to your elders and betters, perhaps. Sonny Singer and Hector Bast exchanged a startled, uneasy look. I think that some of this evil . . . this perversity . . . has been my own fault. He took the hypo out, glanced at it, and then took out a vial. He handed the case to Warwick and filled the hypo. I have never believed in forcing my boys to confess, but without confession there can be no decision for Christ, and with no decision for Christ, evil continues to grow. So, although I regret it deeply, I believe that the time to ask has ended and the time to demand in Gods name has come. Pedersen. Peabody. Warwick. Casey. Hold them! The boys surged forward on his command like trained dogs. Jack got in one blow at Peabody, and then his hands were grabbed and pinned. Led me hid imb! Sonny cried in his new, muffled voice. He elbowed through the crowd of goggling boys, his eyes glittering with hate. I wand to hid imb! Not now, Gardener said. Later, perhaps. Well pray on it, wont we, Sonny? Yeah. The glitter in Sonnys eyes had become positively feverish. Imb going to bray on id all day. Like a man who is finally waking up after a very long sleep, Wolf grunted and looked around. He saw Jack being held, saw the hypodermic needle, and peeled Pedersens arm off Jack as if it had been the arm of a child. A surprisingly strong roar came from his throat. No! Let him GO! Gardener danced in toward Wolfs blind side with a fluid grace that reminded Jack of Osmond turning on the carter in that muddy stableyard. The needle flashed and plunged. Wolf wheeled, bellowing as if he had been stung . . . which, in a way, was just what had happened to him. He swept a hand at the hypo, but Gardener avoided the sweep neatly. The boys, who had been looking on in their dazed Sunlight Home way, now began to stampede for the door, looking alarmed. They wanted no part of big, simple Wolf in such a rage. Let him GO! Let . . . him . . . let him . . . Wolf! Jack . . . Jacky . . . Wolf looked at him with puzzled eyes that shifted like strange kaleidoscopes from hazel to orange to a muddy red. He held his hairy hands out to Jack, and then Hector Bast stepped up behind him and clubbed him to the floor. Wolf! Wolf! Jack stared at him with wet, furious eyes. If you killed him, you son of a bitch Shhh, Mr. Jack Parker, Gardener whispered in his ear, and Jack felt the needle sting his upper arm. Just be quiet now. Were going to get a little sunlight in your soul. And maybe then well see how you like pulling a loaded wagon up the spiral road. Can you say hallelujah? That one word followed him down into dark oblivion. Hallelujah . . . hallelujah . . . hallelujah . . . 26 Wolf in the Box 1 Jack was awake for quite a long time before they knew he was awake, but he became aware of who he was and what had happened and what his situation was now only by degreeshe was, in a way, like the soldier who has survived a fierce and prolonged artillery barrage. His arm throbbed where Gardener had punched the hypodermic into it. His head ached so badly that his very eyeballs seemed to pulse. He was ragingly thirsty. He advanced a step up the ladder of awareness when he tried to touch the hurt place on his upper right arm with his left hand. He couldnt do it. And the reason he couldnt do it was that his arms were somehow wrapped around himself. He could smell old, mouldy canvasit was the smell of a Boy Scout tent found in an attic after many dark years. It was only then (although he had been looking at it stupidly through his mostly lidded eyes for the last ten minutes) that he understood what he was wearing. It was a straitjacket. Ferd would have figured that out quicker, JackO, he thought, and thinking of Ferd had a focusing effect on his mind in spite of the crushing headache. He stirred a little and the bolts of pain in his head and the throb in his arm made him moan. He couldnt help it. Heck Bast Hes waking up. Sunlight Gardener No, hes not. I gave him a shot big enough to paralyze a bull alligator. Hell be out until nine tonight at the earliest. Hes just dreaming a little. Heck, I want you to go up and hear the boys confessions tonight. Tell them there will be no night chapel; Ive got a plane to meet, and thats just the start of whats probably going to be a very long night. Sonny, you stay and help me do the bookwork. Heck It sure sounded like he was waking up. Sunlight Go on, Heck. And have Bobby Peabody check on Wolf. Sonny (snickering) He doesnt like it in there much, does he? Ah, Wolf, they put you back in the Box, Jack mourned. Im sorry . . . my fault . . . all of this is my fault. . . . The hellbound rarely care much for the machinery of salvation, Jack heard Sunlight Gardener say. When the devils inside them start to die, they go out screaming. Go on now, Heck. Yes sir, Reverend Gardener. Jack heard but did not see Heck as he lumbered out. He did not as yet dare to look up. 2 Stuffed into the crudely made, homewelded and homebolted Box like a victim of premature burial in an iron coffin, Wolf had howled the day away, battering his fists bloody against the sides of the Box, kicking with his feet at the doublebolted, Dutchoventype door at the coffins foot until the jolts of pain travelling up his legs made his crotch ache. He wasnt going to get out battering with his fists or kicking with his feet, he knew that, just as he knew they werent going to let him out just because he screamed to be let out. But he couldnt help it. Wolfs hated being shut up above all things. His screams carried through the Sunlight Homes immediate grounds and even into the near fields. The boys who heard them glanced at each other nervously and said nothing. I seen him in the bathroom this morning, and he turned mean, Roy Owdersfelt confided to Morton in a low, nervous voice. Was they queerin off, like Sonny said? Morton asked. Another Wolfhowl rose from the squat iron Box, and both boys glanced toward it. And how! Roy said eagerly. I didnt exactly see it because Im short, but Buster Oates was right up front and he said that big retarded boy had him a whanger the size of a Akron fireplug. Thats what he said. Jesus! Morton said respectfully, thinking perhaps of his own substandard whanger. Wolf howled all day, but as the sun began to go down, he stopped. The boys found the new silence ominous. They looked at one another often, and even more often, and with more unease, toward that rectangle of iron standing in the center of a bald patch in the Homes back yard. The Box was six feet long and three feet highexcept for the crude square cut in the west side and covered with heavygauge steel mesh, an iron coffin was exactly what it looked like. What was going on in there? they wondered. And even during confession, during which time the boys were usually held rapt, every other consideration forgotten, eyes turned toward the common rooms one window, even though that window looked on the side of the house directly opposite the Box. Whats going on in there? Hector Bast knew that their minds were not on confession and it exasperated him, but he was unable to bring them around because he did not know what precisely was wrong. A feeling of chilly expectation had gripped the boys in the Home. Their faces were paler than ever; their eyes glittered like the eyes of dopefiends. Whats going on in there? What was going on was simple enough. Wolf was going with the moon. He felt it happen as the patch of sun coming in through the ventilation square began to rise higher and higher, as the quality of the light became reddish. It was too early to go with the moon; she was not fully pregnant yet and it would hurt him. Yet it would happen, as it always happened to Wolfs eventually, in season or out of it, when they were pressed too long and too hard. Wolf had held himself in check for a long time because it was what Jacky wanted. He had performed great heroisms for Jack in this world. Jack would dimly suspect some of them, yet never come close to apprehending their incredible depth and breadth. But now he was dying, and he was going with the moon, and because the latter made the former seem more than bearablealmost holy, and surely ordainedWolf went in relief, and in gladness. It was wonderful not to have to struggle anymore. His mouth, suddenly deep with teeth. 3 After Heck left, there were office sounds the soft scrape of chairs being moved, a jingle of the keys on Sunlight Gardeners belt, a filecabinet door running open and then closed. Abelson. Two hundred and forty dollars and thirtysix cents. Sounds of keys being punched. Peter Abelson was one of the boys on OS. Like all of the OS boys, he was bright, personable, and had no physical defects. Jack had seen him only a few times, but he thought Abelson looked like Dondi, that homeless waif with the big eyes in the comic strips. Clark. Sixtytwo dollars and seventeen cents. Keys being punched. The machine rumbled as Sonny hit the TOTAL key. Thats a real falloff, Sonny remarked. Ill talk to him, never fear. Now please dont chatter at me, Sonny. Mr. Sloat arrives in Muncie at tenfifteen and its a long drive. I dont want to be late. Sorry, Reverend Gardener. Gardener made some reply Jack didnt even hear. At the name Sloat, a great shock had walloped himand yet part of him was unsurprised. Part of him had known this might be in the cards. Gardener had been suspicious from the first. He had not wanted to bother his boss with trivialities, Jack figured. Or maybe he had not wanted to admit he couldnt get the truth out of Jack without help. But at last he had calledwhere? East? West? Jack would have given a great lot just then to know. Had Morgan been in Los Angeles, or New Hampshire? Hello, Mr. Sloat. I hope Im not disturbing you, but the local police have brought me a boytwo boys, actually, but its only the intelligent one Im concerned with. I seem to know him. Or perhaps its my . . . ah, my other self who knows him. He gives his name as Jack Parker, but . . . what? Describe him? All right. . . . And the balloon had gone up. Please dont chatter at me, Sonny. Mr. Sloat arrives in Muncie at tenfifteen . . . Time had almost run out. I told you to get your ass home, Jack . . . too late now. All boys are bad. Its axiomatic. Jack raised his head a tiny bit and looked across the room. Gardener and Sonny Singer sat together on the far side of the desk in Gardeners basement office. Sonny was punching the keys of an adding machine as Gardener gave him set after set of figures, each figure following the name of an Outside Staffer, each name neatly set in alphabetical order. In front of Sunlight Gardener was a ledger, a long steel filebox, and an untidy stack of envelopes. As Gardener held one of these envelopes up to read the amount scribbled on the front, Jack was able to see the back. There was a drawing of two happy children, each carrying a Bible, skipping down the road toward a church, handinhand. Written below them was ILL BE A SUNBEAM FOR JESUS. Temkin. A hundred and six dollars even. The envelope went into the steel filebox with the others that had been recorded. I think hes been skimming again, Sonny said. God sees the truth but waits, Gardener said mildly. Victors all right. Now shut up and lets get this done before six. Sonny punched the keys.