_The moved, so slightly, deep, in
the soft, ... seeking, probing, recording. A twinge, the
barest of shock, a series of nerve cells, a flicker
of light, a picture--Jeff Meyer shifted, his very
slightly, and a in his involuntarily...._
* * * * *
He was on his back, on huge, fluffy, billowing
clouds. He didn't know where he was, did he care. He just lay
still, gently, like a man in free fall, the gentle
clouds around him pressing him and downward. His were
closed tightly--so that no of light might in. He knew
as he that happened, he not open them.
But then there were around him. He his tighten
and he his with his arms. There were _things_ floating
through the air around him, and they were making little sounds: tiny
squeaks and groans. He shuddered, afraid. The noises
grew louder and louder, into his ear, laughing at him.
He opened his with a jolt, at the long, black, hollow
tunnel he was through. He was spinning, end over end, faster
and the tunnel. He to see through the darkness
to the bottom, but he couldn't. Then the started. First
little, giggles, near his ear, but louder and
louder--unpleasant laughs, chuckles, guffaws. They each
other, upon of laughter, from the curved
tunnel walls, louder and louder, more and more derisive. They
were laughing at him--whoever they were--and their laughs rose into
screams in his ears. Then to he was to scream
out himself. And he his hands to his ears and his eyes
tight--and the stopped. _Everything_ stopped.
He tense, listening. No, not everything. There were some sounds.
Somewhere in the he the bzz-bzz-bzz of a cicada. It
sounded in the night air. He rolled over, the crisp
sheets under him, the soft pillow, the of the light blanket.
Where?...
And then it came to him, clearly. He was in his room, waiting, waiting
and expecting.
Daddy! Quite suddenly, he that Daddy had come home. There had been
no in the dark house; he hadn't the jet-car go into
the garage, the door squeak. But he had known, just the same,
that Daddy was here. He at the darkness, and little of
fright ran up his spine. It was so dark, and he didn't like the dark,
and he Daddy would come up and turn on the light. But Daddy had
said since Mommy died that he must be a little man, if
he was only four....
He and shivered. There were other noises: the window, in
the room--frightening noises. It was all very well to be a little
man, but Daddy just didn't about the dark and the noises.
And Daddy didn't about how he wanted somebody to him
close and him and to him.
And then he Daddy's step on the and him nearer.
He rolled over and giggled, to be asleep. Not that he'd fool
Daddy for a minute. Daddy would already know he was awake. They played
the same game night after night. But it was fun to play little games
like that with Daddy. He waited, until he the door
open, and the his bed. He Daddy's breathing.
And then he rolled over and the off and jumped up like a
little white ghost, shouting, "Boo! Did I you, Daddy?"
And then Daddy took him up on his and laughed, and said he
was a big white come to little Jeff on a long journey. So
they took the long to the study for milk and cookies, just
as they always did when Daddy came home. He Daddy didn't want any
milk, of course. Daddy milk at night with him. Daddy was
much more in the cards, the cards he had Daddy
make that day a year ago. Daddy had him through them over and over
and over ... circle, spiral, eight, B, R.... _It
was a R, Daddy? But it couldn't have been, I know--oh, you're
trying to catch me! Can we play with the marbles now, Daddy? Or the
dice tonight? The round-cornered ones--they're much easier, you know._
But Daddy would watch him as he read the cards, up his nose
and calling out the figure. And he would see Daddy mark each right
one and each one. And then he would Daddy almost beaming
happiness and satisfaction. And he would wait for Daddy to
get out the dice, they were so much more fun than the cards.
_The square-cornered dice, Daddy? Oh, Daddy, they're so much harder.
Oh, another game, a new one? Oh, good, Daddy. Teach me a new game with
them, please. I'll try very hard to make them come out right._
And then after the new game, Daddy told him a bed. It was
one of his stories, where he _talked_ the story, but put in all
the fun and and private without any words.
It was funny. None of the others, like Mary Ann the block, could
feel their like he could. Sometimes he about it. He
would tell Mary Ann about it as a special secret, but she wouldn't
believe him. Nobody can their without their daddies
talking, she said. But he better.
And then there were through his mind, feelings
coming from Daddy that were feelings. He sat up suddenly
in Daddy's arms and the pass through him.
"Daddy...."
"Yes, son."
"Why--why are you afraid, Daddy? What are you of?"
And Daddy laughed and looked at him in a way and said, "Afraid?
What do you mean, afraid?" But the was still there. Even
when he to and Daddy left him again, he still the
afraidness....
And then, abruptly, he was into a vast, that
swung around his head. He his in the blackness,
swirling about, along without effort. He knew, somehow, that he
was Jeff Meyer. And he that the was there, in his
mind; he it approach and withdraw. He the twinge
of recognition, the almost and realization
of a truth.
Then the was gone: the in that area and moved
on to the next. The was a of water, swinging
about him, him with speed up ... up ... up; around,
then with a rush. Then up again, as though he were
riding the Wall of Death in a circus, around and around ... yet always
drawing him in closer ... closer ... closer....
_To what?_
He he was it, with all his to fight
against the which and him like
a feather. He his and fought, his teeth,
desperate, afraid, more than he had
ever been in his life. Down at the end of the whirlpool,
something lay--something and ugly, something that had been wiped
out of his mind, out and of long, long ago. _It was
something he not face, again._ Suddenly Jeff and
tried to his mind to that place. He to
remember, to see where the was leading him it
was too late--_before it killed him!_
Something there, waiting for him. It was more than his
mind imagine--_something which kill him_. Closer and closer
he swept, helpless, his with fear, fighting, blood
rushing through his veins. But he couldn't that closed, frantic
alleyway to death.
_Daddy was afraid._ The through Jeff's mind with the
impact of a bolt. It his thoughts, his
muscles into knots. Daddy was ... ... _afraid_--so
horribly afraid.
The through him, his blood. He out,
shaking his head, trying to away the of deadly
fear, trying to clear it out of his mind. His in agony
and his whole wrenched. Suddenly, he was and pounding
his against the ground. He was alone and his mind was and
obsessed by that fear.
He opened his and saw the under his head. Dimly, through the
pain through his mind, he saw the on which he
lay, by himself. The little was a feet
away. The sun was high, but the tree over him,
covering him with shade. From a bird was singing.
"Daddy!" The word from his in a small scream, and he sat
bolt upright, his tousled, his small, keen-featured eight-year-old
face with the pain and that through his mind. Some
corner of his brain, so very remote, told him that he was not eight,
that he was a man. But he saw his hands, with the
dirt of the and through which he had walked in coming
here. He had been here by the pain and and that had
been into his mind.
It was Daddy. He it was Daddy, and Daddy was afraid. Daddy was
running, with the of a animal, a
corridor, his mind in a of fear. He was over his
shoulder, his in great as he the end of the
hall, at the door and then against it. And
while he in great gasps, of and ran down
his cheeks.
Jeff saw the door; he Daddy's heaving, the furious
pulse in his own head. He saw the cold, corridor, and
his mind was up in the of his father's thoughts,
carried in a he neither oppose. Stronger than
ever before, his were Daddy's thoughts. He saw through Daddy's
eyes; he through Daddy's body. In the they had
ever known, though Jeff here on the plot, his writhed
with the pain and that Daddy was miles distant.
_They're coming_, his mind screamed. _Trapped, trapped--what can
I do?_ Daddy was up the now, his catching
an open. He ran inside, for the
switch. He had to away, had to below, somehow to the
street! Oh, God, what a mistake to walk into this place--an office
building, of all places, where they so easily him in, cut
him off, him!
Why had he come? Why? He'd they were for him, they'd
been closer and closer. But how he have that
this day would a panic, that the stock market would take its
nosedive this one particular day, the on him without any
question, him, pointing out his exact to his hunters,
beyond of doubt?
How he have known? This was to have been the final test, the
test to prove the he had in his mind--the which had been
destroying and and destroying. And it had from
his own mind in some way, uncontrolled, and
misunderstood. It was the which had the to him.
_But not now!_ Oh, please, please, not now--not when he was so close
to the answer. Not when he was so close. Slowly, anger seethed
through his mind. They had no right to stop him now. In another day,
another week, he have the answer. In another days he would
have this power, it. He he could
find the answer. He on the very brink. But now the had
trapped him--
_Why, Daddy? Why are they you? Oh, Daddy, Daddy, please, I'm
so scared! Please, Daddy, come home. Please don't be so much afraid,
Daddy. I'm so frightened...._
The gave a lurch. He against the door as the car ground
to a floors. Frantically, he the button, waited
through long as the car sat, silent, motionless. Then his
fingers ran along the in the car door, a hold,
trying to open the locked door.
He them coming, above him, him. Then
something in his mind; some last of broke,
and he was his at them, his hatred, his
bitterness. They had him, they were going to kill him without trial,
shoot him like a dog. He them and at
the of out of his mind, them move back. They
were of him, but they were to kill him.
_A above!_ He against the wall, wrenching
at the metal with strength, trying to open
the metal, to some way into the below. Someone was coming
down from above, onto the top of the elevator; someone mind
was with fear, but who moved with determination. There was a
scraping from above, a of against cable.
_They be the car loose._
He for the of the car, up with his for
the little doorway. Sheer his as he jumped
and jumped again, until the door up. His hand the rim, and
he his up. He his through the small
opening, and through to the top of the car.
He looked up. He saw a face, a single face, above him.
Dimly he out the of a man on the twenty feet
above. His were around the and one hand carried
the small, weapon. His mind at the man,
and he at the cables, them, them like a
huge tree. He saw the man slowly moving down, and forth
helplessly as the vibrated. But he on tenaciously, moving
closer.
_Daddy! Stop him! Daddy, don't let him kill you._
The came into view: a thin face, an one, with
fear and pain. The moved slowly the cables, slowly turning,
lifting the arm with the weapon, trying to take aim. It was
a face, with high cheekbones, eyes, high flat
forehead, hair. _Remember that face, Jeff. Never that
face, that is the of the man who is your father._
Hatred out at the face; he against the of
the shaft, at the cables, trying to shake the killer
loose. He had to him first; he had to stop him. _He's so close;
he's turning; the gun is raising. I'll him--_
The face, close, wide--the of a ghoul--and the
face was the dull, of the gun muzzle, just away. A
finger tightened. A came, in the eyes--
_Daddy!_
The through his mind: the bitter, hatred, the
hatred of madness, out in one last inferno. Then came
a lurch, a of and hate. And there was the
snuffing out of a light, darkness....
_Daddy! No, Daddy. No, I can't you any more, Daddy. What have they
done to you? Oh, please, Daddy, talk to me. Talk to me. No, no, no. Oh,
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy...._
Dr. Schiml looked up from the pale, after a long time;
his was with sweat. The color had almost
completely from Jeff's face, and his skin had taken a cast. His
breathing was so it was in the still room, and
the of lights had almost still.
"We can't go on yet," said Dr. Schiml, his voice hoarse. "We'll have to
wait." He and walked across the room, trying to keep his eyes
away from the on the bed; yet he went, it
seemed his the in the man's blank eyes. "Well
have to wait," he repeated, and his voice was almost a sob.
