Here it comes. She felt the pressure building up in her, edging past the point of control.

"And what if the Dat-tay-vao's relationship with Jeffy is different? Special?" she said.

Alan's eyes were puzzled as he searched her face.

"I don't—"

"What if the Dat-tay-vao's presence is keeping Jeffy like he is?" She tried to hold the tremor out of her voice but it grew, giving the words a jittery vibrato. "What if it's the reason he's been alert, responsive, laughing, singing, reading, playing with other kids—a normal boy—for the past year? Alan, what if that old man takes the Dat-tay-vao away for his focus or whatever he was talking about and Jeffy goes back to the way he was when I adopted him?" The tremor spread from her voice to her body now. She couldn't control the shaking in her hands and knees. "What if he becomes autistic again, Alan?"

Sylvia pressed her hands against her face, as much to hide as to catch the tears springing into her eyes.

"God, Alan, I'm so ashamed!"

Suddenly there was someone standing beside her. She felt a pair of arms slip around her and hold her close.

"Alan! You're standing!"

"Not very well, I'm afraid. But that's not the point. Watching you all morning, trying to figure out what's going on inside you, and never seeing how frightened you are. Christ, what a jerk."

"But you're standing!"

"You've seen me do it before."

"But not without the parallel bars."

"You're my parallel bars at the moment. I couldn't just sit there and watch you go to pieces and spout that nonsense about being ashamed."

"But I am ashamed." She twisted in his arms and clung to him. "If Glaeken's right, the whole world is threatened, billions of people in danger, and here I'm only worried about one little boy. I'm ready to let the whole world take a flying leap rather than jeopardize him."

"But that's not just any little boy. That's Jeffy—your little boy, the most important little boy in the world. Don't be ashamed of putting him first. That's where he should be. That's where he belongs."

"But the whole world, Alan! How can I say no?" Sylvia felt the panic well up inside her again. "How can I say yes!

"I can't answer that for you, Syl. I wish I could. You've got to weigh everything. Got to figure that if Glaeken's right, and he can't get the Dat-tay-vao for the focus he was talking about, then Jeffy's a goner along with everybody else. There's nothing to say that he can't lure the Dat-tay-vao from Jeffy without harming him. If Glaeken can then turn all these horrors around, Jeffy will have a safer world to live in."

"But if Jeffy is left in autistic limbo again…"

"That branches into two possibilities. Glaeken succeeds and Jeffy's back to where he was a year ago and we deal with it and hope for a medical breakthrough in the treatment of autism. Or Glaeken fails despite Jeffy's sacrifice."

"Then it's all been for nothing."

"Not necessarily. If nothing else, Jeffy's relapse into autism will shield him from the living hell Glaeken's predicting. That might be a blessing."

Sylvia clung more tightly to Alan.

"I wish this wasn't up to me."

"I know. Too bad he's not old enough to be brought in on the decision."

Sylvia felt a vibration begin to shimmer through Alan's lean body. She looked down and saw that his left leg had begun to tremble. As she watched, it began to jitter and shake. Alan reached a hand down to steady it, but as soon as he let go, the tremors started again.

Alan smiled. "I feel like Robert Klein doing his old 'I can't stop my leg' routine."

"What's wrong?"

"Spasm. Happens when I'm on it too long. Used to be in both legs, now it's just my left. If I can't do Robert Klein, maybe I could try an Elvis imitation."

"Stop it. Nobody listens to Elvis anymore."

"I do. But only his Sun stuff, and pre-Army RCA."

Sylvia smiled. Alan and his oldies. Part of his therapy after the coma had been to rebuild his doo-wop collection. It had worked miracles with his memory linkages.

"Here. Sit down."

He eased himself back into the wheelchair. The leg stopped its jittering as soon as he took his weight off it.

"Uh-oh," Alan said, slapping the still leg. "There goes my new career."

Sylvia bent and hugged him around the neck.

"Have I told you that I love you?"

"Not today."

"I love you, Alan. And thanks."

"For what?"

"For standing up and holding me when I needed it. And for making things clear. I think I know what I'm going to do now."

"Missus?"

Sylvia started at the sound of Ba's voice. She wished he'd learn to make a little more noise when he moved about. He was like a cat.

He was standing behind her holding the new club he'd been working on most of the afternoon to replace the one he'd given to that Jack fellow; like its predecessor it was studded with diamond-like chew-wasp teeth.

"Yes, Ba?"

"Where is the Boy?"

Fingers of unease brushed her throat.

"I thought he was with you."

"He was in the garage with me. He wished to go outside. I knew the Missus and the Doctor were here so…"

Ba's voice trailed off as he did a slow turn, scanning the perimeter of the grounds.

"Maybe he's in the back."

Sylvia started toward the back yard. She never let Jeffy out alone by the water. Nightmares of dragging the Long Island Sound for his body…

"No, Missus. I watched him run around house to the front."

"Maybe he's inside, then."

"He is not, Missus."

The long shadows seemed to be reaching for her. The sun was a red glow behind the willows along the west wall. The fingers of unease at her throat stretched, reaching toward panic, encircling and squeezing.

Rudy came toward her across the lawn. "We're done!" he said, grinning.

"Have you seen Jeffy?" she asked. "My little boy?"

"The blond-haired kid? Not for while. Not for a few hours. But we've been kinda occupied with getting those shutters up on time. Now, about that bonus—"

"I'll pay you everything later—tomorrow. Right now we've got to find Jeffy!"

Alan said, "I'll check the waterfront. Ba, you beat the bushes along the wall. Sylvia, why don't you check the road?"

As Alan and Ba went their separate ways, Sylvia hurried down the driveway toward the front gate. When she reached the street she stopped, looking both ways, straining to see in the waning light.

Which way?

Shore Drive followed the curve of the Sound, running east toward the center of town and west toward Lattingtown and Glen Cove. Instinctively, she started east, toward the pale moon rising full and translucent in the fading light. Jeffy loved the toy shops and video arcades along the harbor front. If he was traveling Shore Drive, that was the way he'd go. Sylvia took a few steps, then stopped, suddenly unsure.

If I were Jeffy, she thought, which way would I go?

Slowly she turned and faced the other way, where the sun was on the horizon, sinking behind Manhattan.

Manhattan…where Glaeken was…where Jeffy and the power within him wanted to be…

Sylvia began running west. Her heart was a claustrophobic prisoner, trapped in her chest, pounding frantically on the bars of her ribs. Her eyes roved left and right, scanning the yards along the road. All the lots were big here, with as much frontage along the street as the shoreline. Unlike Toad Hall's, most of the other yards were open, their manicured grounds studded with trees and shrubs and free-form plantings. Jeffy could have followed a squirrel or a bird into any one of them.

He might be anywhere.

She slowed but kept moving. She didn't want to miss him. To her left a battered red pick-up truck squealed to a halt on the street. Rudy leaned out the window as the rest of his work crew sped by him in their own cars and trucks.