IX. The Expedition to the pharmacy.
I told Mrs. Turman, and I told Amanda, and then I told Billy. He seemed better this morning; he had eaten two donuts and a bowl of Special K for breakfast. Afterward I raced him up and down two of the aisles and even got him giggling a little. Kids are so adaptable that they can scar the living shit right out of You. He was too pale, the flesh under his eyes was still puffed from the tears he had cried in the night, and his face had a horribly used look. In a way it had become like an old man’s face, as if too much emotional voltage had been running behind it for too long, But he was still alive and still able to laugh … at least until he remembered where he was and what was happening.
After the windsprints we sat down with Amanda and Hattie Turman and drank Gatorade from paper cups and I told him I was going over to the drugstore with a few other people.
«I don’t want you to,» he said immediately, his face clouding.
«It’ll be all right, Big Bill, I’ll bring you a Spiderman comic book.»
«I want you to stay here.» Now his face was not just cloudy; it was thundery. I took his hand. He pulled it away. I took it again.
«Billy, we have to get out of here sooner or later. You see that, don’t you?»
«When the fog goes away _- But he spoke with no conviction at all. He drank his Gatorade slowly and without relish.
«Billy, it’s been almost one whole day now.»
«I want Mommy.»
«Well, maybe this is the first step on the way to getting back to her.»
Mrs. Turman said, «Don’t build the boy’s hopes up, David.»
«What the hell,» I snapped at her, «the kid’s got to hope for something.»
She dropped her eyes. «Yes. I suppose he does.»
Billy took no notice of this. «Daddy … Daddy, there are things out there. Things.»
«Yes, we know that. But a lot of them — not all, but a lot — don’t seem to come out until it’s nighttime.»
«They’ll wait,» he said. His eyes were huge, centered on mine. «They’ll wait in the fog … and when you can’t get back inside, they’ll come to eat you up. Like in the fairy stories.» He hugged me with fierce, panicky tightness. «Daddy, please don’t go.»
I pried his arms loose as gently as I could and told him that I had to. «But I’ll be back, Billy.»
«All right,» he said huskily, but he wouldn’t look at me anymore. He didn’t believe I would be back. It was on his face, which was no longer thundery but woeful and grieving. I wondered again if I could be doing the right thing, putting myself at risk. Then I happened to glance down the middle aisle and saw Mrs. Carmody there. She had gained a third listener, a man with a grizzled cheek and a mean and rolling bloodshot eye. His haggard brow and shaking hands almost screamed the word hangover. It was none other than your friend and his, Myron LaFleur. The fellow who had felt no compunction at all about sending a boy out to do a man’s job.
That crazy cunt. That witch.
I kissed Billy and hugged him hard. Then I walked down to the front of the store-but not down the housewares aisle. I didn’t want to fall under her eye.
Three-quarters of the way down, Amanda caught up with me. «Do you really have to do this?» she asked.
«Yes, I think so.»
«Forgive me if I say it sounds like so much macho bullshit to me.» There were spots of color high on her cheeks and her eyes were greener than ever. She was highly — no, royally — pissed.
I took her arm and recapped my discussion with Dan Miller. The riddle of the cars and the fact that no one from the pharmacy had joined us didn’t move her much. The business about Mrs. Carmody did.
«He could be right,» she said.
«Do you really believe that?»