‘Shhh!’ Ted’s breath in his ear was as dry as the smell of that dust, and somehow intimate.
His hands were on Bobby’s back, cupping his shoulderblades and holding him still. ‘Not a word! Not a thought. Except . . . baseball! Yes, baseball, if you like!’
Bobby thought of Maury Wills getting his lead off first, a walking lead, measuring three steps . . . then four . . . Wills bent over at the waist, hands dangling, heels raised slightly off the dirt, he can go either way, it depends on what the pitcher does . . . and when the pitcher goes to the plate Wills heads for second in an explosion of speed and dust and —
Gone. Everything was gone. No bell ringing in his head, no sound of hooves, no smell of dust. No itching behind his eyes, either. Had that itching really ever been there? Or had he just made it up because Ted’s eyes were scaring him?
‘Bobby,’ Ted said, again directly into Bobby’s ear. The movement of Ted’s lips against his skin made him shiver. Then: ‘Good God, what am I doing?’
He pushed Bobby away, gently but firmly. His face looked dismayed and a little too pale, but his eyes were back to normal, his pupils holding steady. For the moment that was all Bobby cared about. He felt strange, though — muzzy in the head, as if he’d just woken up from a heavy nap. At the same time the world looked amazingly brilliant, every line and shape perfectly denned.
‘Shazam,’ Bobby said, and laughed shakily. ‘What just happened?’
‘Nothing to concern you.’ Ted reached for his cigarette and seemed surprised to see only a tiny smoldering scrap left in the groove where he had set it. He brushed it into the ashtray with his knuckle. T went off again, didn’t I?’
‘Yeah, way off. I was scared. I thought you were having an epilepsy fit or somediing. Your eyes — ‘
‘It’s not epilepsy,’ Ted said. ‘And it’s not dangerous. But if it happens again, it would be best if you didn’t touch me.’
‘Why?’
Ted lit a fresh cigarette. ‘Just because. Will you promise?’
‘Okay. What’s the Beam?’
Ted gazed at him sharply. ‘I spoke of the Beam?’
‘You said “All things serve the Beam.” I think that was it.’
‘Perhaps sometime I’ll tell you, but not today. Today you’re going to the beach, aren’t you?’
Bobby jumped, startled. He looked at Ted’s clock and saw it was almost nine o’clock.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Maybe I ought to start getting ready. I could finish reading you the paper when I get back.’
‘Yes, good. A fine idea. I have some letters to write.’
No you don’t, you just want to get rid of me before I ask any other questions you don’t want to answer.
But if that was what Ted was doing it was all right. As Liz Garfield so often said, Bobby had his own fish to fry. Still, as he reached the door to Ted’s room, the thought of the red scrap of cloth hanging from the TV aerial and the crescent moon and the star next to the hopscotch grid made him turn reluctantly back.
‘Ted, there’s something — ‘
‘The low men, yes, I know.’ Ted smiled. ‘For now don’t trouble yourself about them, Bobby. For now all is well. They aren’t moving this way or even looking this way.’
‘They draw west,’ Bobby said.
Ted looked at him through a scurf of rising cigarette smoke, his blue eyes steady. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and with luck they’ll stay west. Seattle would be fine with me. Have a good time at the seaside, Bobby.’
‘But I saw — ‘
‘Perhaps you saw only shadows. In any case, this isn’t the time to talk. Just remember what I said — if I should go blank like that again, just sit and wait for it to pass. If I should reach for you, stand back. If I should get up, tell me to sit down. In that state I will do as you say.
It’s like being hypnotized.’
‘Why do you — ‘
‘No more questions, Bobby. Please.’