he should e back creeping through this hotel two thousand miles from the New
England town where his father had lived and died。
He raised the radio up and brought it down； and it smashed on the floor
spilling old clocksprings and tubes like the result of some crazy elevator game
gone awry； making his father's voice gone； leaving only his voice； Jack's voice；
Jacky's voice； chanting in the cold reality of the office：
〃 — dead； you're dead； you're dead！〃
And the startled sound of Wendy's feet hitting the floor over his head； and
Wendy's startled； frightened voice： 〃Jack？ Jack！〃
He stood； blinking down at the shattered radio。 Now there was only the
snowmobile in the equipment shed to link them to the outside world。
He put his hands over his eyes and clutched at his temples。 He was getting a
headache。
》
CATATONIC
Wendy ran down the hall in her stocking feet and ran down the main stairs to
the lobby two at a time。 She didn't look up at the carpeted flight that led to
the second floor； but if she had； she would have seen Danny standing at the top
of them； still and silent； his unfocused eyes directed out into indifferent
space； his thumb in his mouth； the collar and shoulders of his shirt damp。 There
were puffy bruises on his neck and just below his chin。
Jack's cries had ceased； but that did nothing to ease her fear。 Ripped out of
her sleep by his voice； raised in that old hectoring pitch she remembered so
well； she still felt that she was dreaming — but another part knew she was awake；
and that terrified her more。 She half…expected to burst into the office and find
him standing over Danny's sprawled…out body； drunk and confused。
She pushed through the door and Jack was standing there； rubbing at his
temples with his fingers。 His face was ghostwhite。 The two…way CB radio lay at
his feet in a sprinkling of broken glass。
〃Wendy？〃 he asked uncertainly。 〃Wendy — ？〃
The bewilderment seemed to grow and for a moment she saw his true face； the
one he ordinarily kept so well hidden； and it was a face of desperate
unhappiness； the face of an animal caught in a snare beyond its ability to
decipher and render harmless。 Then the muscles began to work； began to writhe
under the skin； the mouth began to tremble infirmly； the Adam's apple began to
rise and fall。
Her own bewilderment and surprise were overlaid by shock： he was going to cry。
She had seen him cry before； but never since he stopped drinking 。。。 and never
in those days unless he was very drunk and pathetically remorseful。 He was a
tight man； drum…tight； and his loss of control frightened her all over again。
He came toward her； the tears brimming over his lower lids now； his head
shaking involuntarily as if in a fruitless effort to ward off this emotional
storm； and his chest drew in a convulsive gasp that was expelled in a huge；
racking sob。 His feet； clad in Hush Puppies； stumbled over the wreck of the
radio and he almost fell into her arms； making her stagger back with his weight。
His breath blew into her face and there was no smell of liquor on it。 Of course
not； there was no liquor up here。
〃What's wrong？〃 She held him as best she could。 〃Jack； what is it？〃
But he could do nothing at first but sob； clinging to her； almost crushing the
wind from her； his head turning on her shoulder in that helpless； shaking；
warding…off gesture。 His sobs were heavy and fierce。 He was shuddering all over；
his muscles jerking beneath his plaid shirt and jeans。
〃Jack？ What？ Tell me what's wrong！〃
At last the sobs began to change themselves into words； most of them
incoherent at first； but ing clearer as his tears began to spend themselves。
〃。。。 dream； I guess it was a dream； but it was so real； I。。。
it was my mother saying that Daddy was going to be on the radio and I 。。。
he was 。。。 he was telling me to 。。。 I don't know； he was yelling at me 。。。
and so I broke the radio 。。。 to shut him up。 To shut him up。 He's dead。 I
don't even want to dream about him。 He's dead。 My God； Wendy； my God。 I never
had a nightmare like that。 I never want to have another one。 Christ！ It was
awful。〃
〃You just fell asleep in the office？〃
〃No 。。。 not here。 Downstairs。〃 He was straightening a little now； his weight
ing off her； and the steady back…and…forth motion of his head first slowed and
then stopped。
〃I was looking through those old papers。 Sitting on a chair I set up down
there。 Milk receipts。 Dull stuff。 And I guess I just drowsed off。 That's when I
started to dream。 I must have sleepwalked up here。〃 He essayed a shaky little
laugh against her neck。 〃Another first。〃
〃Where is Danny； Jack？〃
〃I don't know。 Isn't he with you？〃
〃He wasn't 。。。 downstairs with you？〃
He looked over his shoulder and his face tightened at what he saw on her face。
〃Never going to let me forget that； are you； Wendy？〃
〃Jack — 〃
〃When I'm on my deathbed you'll lean over and say； ‘It serves you right；
remember the time you broke Danny's arm？' 〃
〃Jack！〃
〃Jack what？〃 he asked hotly； and jumped to his feet。 〃Are you denying that's
what you're thinking？ That I hurt him？ That I hurt him once before and I could
hurt him again？〃
〃I want to know where he is； that's all！〃
〃Go ahead； yell your fucking head off； that'll make everything okay； won't it？ 〃
She turned and walked out the door。
He watched her go； frozen for a moment； a blotter covered with fragments of
broken glass in one hand。 Then he dropped it into the wastebasket； went after
her； and caught her by the lobby desk。 He put his hands on her shoulders and
turned her around。 Her face was carefully set。
〃Wendy； I'm sorry。 It was the dream。 I'm upset。 Forgive？〃
〃Of course；〃 she said； her face not changing expression。 Her wooden shoulders
slipped out of his hands。 She walked to the middle of the lobby and called：
〃Hey； doc！ Where are you？〃
Silence came back。 She walked toward the double lobby doors； opened one of
them； and stepped out onto the path Jack had shoveled。 It was more like a
trench； the packed and drifted snow through which the path was cut came to her
shoulders。 She called him again； her breath ing out in a white plume。 When
she came back in she had begun to look scared。
Controlling his irritation with her； he said reasonably： 〃Are you sure he's
not sleeping in his room？〃
〃I told you； he was playing somewhere when I was knitting。 I could hear him
downstairs。〃
〃Did you fall asleep？〃
〃What's that got to do with it？ Yes。 Danny？〃
〃Did you look in his room when you came downstairs just now？〃
〃I — 〃She stopped。
He nodded。 〃I didn't really think so。〃
He started up the stairs without waiting for her。 She followed him； half…
running； but he was taking the risers two at a time。 She almost crashed into his
back when he came to a dead stop on the first…floor landing。 He was rooted
there； looking up； his eyes wide。
〃What — ？〃 she began； and followed his gaze。
Danny still stood there； his eyes blank； sucking his thumb。 The marks on his
throat were cruelly visible in the light of the hall's electric flambeaux。
〃Danny！〃 she shrieked。
It broke Jack's paralysis and they rushed up the stairs together to where he
stood。 Wendy fell on her knees beside him and swept the boy into her arms。 Danny
came pliantly enough； but he did not hug her back。 It was like hugging a padded
stick； and the sweet taste of horror flooded her mouth。 He only sucked his thumb
and stared with indifferent blankness out into the stairwell beyond both of
them。
〃Danny； what happened？〃 Jack asked。 He put out his hand to touch the puffy
side of Danny's neck。 〃Who did this to — 〃
〃Don't you touch him！〃 Wendy hissed。 She clutched Danny in her arms； lifted
him； and had retreated halfway down the stairs before Jack could do more than
stand up； confused。
〃What？ Wendy； what the hell are you t — 〃
〃Don't you touch him！ I'll kill you if you lay your hands on him again！〃
〃Wendy — 〃
〃You bastard！〃
She turned and ran down the rest of the stairs to the first floor。 Danny's
head jounced mildly up and down as she ran。 His thumb was lodged securely in his
mouth。 His eyes were soaped windows。 She turned right at the foot of the stairs；
and Jack heard her feet retreat to the end of it。 Their bedroom door slammed。
The bolt was run home。 The lock turned。 Brief silence。 Then the soft； muttered
sounds of forting。
He stood for an unknown length of time； literally paralyzed by all that had
happened in such a short space of time。 His dream was still with him； painting
everything a slightly unreal shade。 It was as if he had taken a very mild
mescaline hit。 Had he maybe hurt Danny as Wendy thought？ Tried to strangle his
son at his dead father's request？ No。 He would never hurt Danny。
（He fell down the stairs； Doctor。）
He would never hurt Danny now。
（How could I know the bug bomb was defective？）
Never in his life had he been willfully vicious when he was sober。
（Except when you almost killed George Hatfield。）
〃No！〃 he cried into the darkness。 He brought both fists crashing down on his
legs； again and again and again。
* * *
Wendy sat in the overstuffed chair by the window with Danny on her lap；
holding him； crooning the old meaningless words； the ones you never remember
afterward no matter how a thing turns out。 He had folded onto her lap with
neither protest nor gladness； like a paper cutout of himself； and his eyes
didn't even shift toward the door when Jack cried out 〃No！〃 somewhere in the
hallway。
The confusion had receded a little bit in her mind； but she now discovered
something even worse behind it。 Panic。
Jack had done this； she had no doubt of it。 His denials meant nothing to her。
She thought it was perfectly possible that Jack had tried to throttle Danny in
his sleep just as he had smashed the CB radio in his sleep。 He was having a
breakdown of some kind。 But what was she going to do about it？ She couldn't stay
locked in here forever。 They would have to eat。
There was really only one question； and it was asked in a mental voice of
utter coldness and pragmatism； the voice of her maternity； a cold and
passionless voice once it was directed away from the closed circle of mother and
child and out toward Jack。 It was a voice that spoke of self…preservation only
after son…preservation and its question was：
（Exactly how dangerous is he？）
He had denied doing it。 He had been horrified at the bruises； at Danny's soft
and implacable disconnection。 If he had done it； a separate section of himself
had been responsible。 The fact that he had done it when he was asleep was in a
terrible； twisted way encouraging。 Wasn't it possible that he could be trusted
to get them out of here？ To get them down and away。 And after that 。。。
But she could see no further than she and Danny arriving safe at Dr。 Edmonds's
office in Sidewinder。 She had no particular need to see further。 The present
cris