"My name's Jerry," said the boy, seating himself in hisfather's abandoned chair. "Is your name, mister, reallyHell?"

"Hush, you!" said his mother." 'Fraid so," said Tanner.

"... And you drove all the way across the country?Through the Alley?"

"So far."

"What was it like?"

"Mean."

"What ali'd you see?"

"Bats as big as this kitchen—some of them even bigger—on the other side of the Missus Hip. Lot of them inSaint Louis."

"What'd you dor*

"Shot 'em. Burned 'em. Drove through *em."

"What else you see?"

"Gila monsters. Big, technicolor lizards—the size ofa barn. Dust Devils—big circling winds that sucked upone car. Fire-topped mountains. Real big thorn bushesthat we had to bum. Drove through some storms. Droveover places where the ground was like glass. Drove alongwhere the ground was shaking. Drove around big craters, all radioactive."

"Wish I could do that some day."

"Maybe you will, some day."

Tanner finished the food and lit a cigarette and sippedthe coffee, i.

"Real good breakfast," he called out. "Best I've eatenin days. Thanks."

Susan smiled, then said, "Jerry, don't go an* pester theman."

"No bother, missus. He's okay."

"What's that ring on your hand?" said Jerry. "It lookslike a snake."

"That's what it is," said Tanner, pulling it off. "It issterling silver with red glass eyes, and I got it in a placecalled Tijuana. Here. You keep it."

"I couldn't take that," said the boy, and he looked athis mother, his eyes asking if he could. She shook herhead from left to right, and Tanner saw it and said, "Yourfolks were good enough to help me out and get a doc formy partner and feed me and give me a place to sleep.I'm sure they won't mind if I want to show my appreciation a little bit and give you this ring." Jerry looked backat his mother, and Tanner nodded and she noddedtoo.

Jerry whistled and jumped up and put it on his finger."It's too big," he said.

"Here, let me mash it a bit for you. These spiral kind'Ufit anybody if you squeeze them a little."

He squeezed the ring and gave it back to the boy totry on. It was still too big, so he squeezed it again andthen it fit.

Jerry put it on and began to run from the room.

"Wait!" his mother said. "What do you say?"

He turned around and said, "Thank you, Hell.'*

"Mister Tanner," she said.

"Mister Tanner," the boy repeated, and the door bangedbehind him.

"That was good of you," she said.

Tanner shrugged.

"He liked it," he said. "Glad I could turn him on withit."

He finished his coffee and his cigarette, and she gavehim another cup, and be lit another cigarette. After atime, Sam and the doctor came out of the other room, andTanner began wondering where the family had slept thenight before. Susan poured them both coffee, and theyseated themselves at the table to drink it.

"Your friend's got a concussion," the doctor said. "Ican't really tell how serious his condition is without getting X-rays, and there's no way of getting them here. Iwouldn't recommend moving him, though."

Tanner said, "For how long?"

"Maybe a few days, maybe a couple weeks. I've leftsome medication and told Sam what to do for him. Samsays there's a plague in Boston and you've got to hurry.My advice is that you go on without him. Leave him herewith the Potters. He'll be taken care of. He can go up toAlbany with them for the Spring Fair and make his wayto Boston from there on some commercial carrier. Ithink he'll be all right."

Tanner thought about it awhile, then nodded.

"Okay," he said, "if that's the way it's got to be."

"That's what I recommend."

They drank their coffee.

XIII Tanner regarded his freed vehicle, said, "I guess I'll begoing then," and nodded to the Potters. "Thanks," hesaid, and he unlocked the cab, climbed into it and startedthe engine. He put it into gear, blew the horn twice andstarted to move.

In the screen, he saw the three men waving. Hestamped the accelerator, and they were gone from sight.

He sped ahead, and the way was easy. The sky wassalmon pink. The earth was brown, and there was muchgreen grass. The bright sun caught the day in a silver net.

This part of the country seemed virtually untouchedby the chaos that had produced the rest of the Alley.Tanner played music, drove along. He passed two truckson the road and honked his horn each time. Once, hereceived a reply.

He drove all that day, and it was well into the nightwhen he pulled into Albany. The streets themselves weredark, and only a few lights shone from the buildings. Hedrew up in front of a flickering red sign that said "BAR& GRILL," parked and entered.

It was small, and there was jukebox music playing,tunes he'd never heard before, and the lighting waspoor, and there was sawdust on the floor.

He sat down at the bar and pushed the Magnum waydown behind his belt so that it didn't show. Then he tookoff his jacket, because of the heat in the place, and hethrew it on the stool next to him. When the man in thewhite apron approached, he said, "Give me a shot and abeer and a ham sandwich."

The man nodded his bald head and threw a shot glassin front of Tanner which he then filled. He siphonedoff a foam-capped mug and hollered over his right shoulder.

Tanner tossed off the shot and sipped the beer. Afterawhile, a white plate bearing a sandwich appeared onthe sill across from him. After a longer while, the bartender passed, picked it up, and deposited it in front ofhim. He wrote something on a green chit and tucked itunder the corner of the plate.

Tanner bit into the sandwich and washed it down witha mouthful of beer. He studied the people about himand decided they made the same noises as people in anyother bar he'd ever been in. The old man to his leftlooked friendly, so he asked him, "Any news aboutBoston?"

The man's chin quivered between words, and it seemeda natural thing for him.

"No news at all. Looks like the merchants will close'their shops at the end of the week."

"What day is today?"

"Tuesday."

Tanner finished his sandwich and smoked a cigarettewhile he drank the rest of his beer.

Then he looked at the check, and it said, ".85."

He tossed a dollar bill on top of it and turned to go.

He had taken two steps when the bartender called out,"Wait a minute, mister."

He turned around.

"Yeah?"

"What you trying to pull?*'

"What do you mean?"

"What do you call this crap?"

"What crap?"

The man waved Tanner's dollar at him, and he steppedforward and inspected it.

"Nothing wrong I can see. What's giving you a pain?"

"That ain't money."

"You trying to tell ma my money's no good?"

"That's what I said. I never seen no bill like that."

"Well, look at it real careful. Read that print downthere at the bottom of it."

The room grew quiet. One man got off his stool andwalked forward. He held out his hand and said, "Let me see it, Bill."

The bartender passed it to him, and the man's eyes widened.

"This is drawn on the Bank of the Nation of California."

"Well, that's where I'm from," said Tanner.

"I'm sorry, it's no good here," said the bartender.

"It's the best I got," said Tanner.

"Well, nobody'll make good on it around here. Yougot any Boston money on you?"

"Never been to Boston."

"Then how the heli'd you get here?"

"Drove."

"Don't hand me that line of crap, son. Where'd yousteal this?" It was the older man who had spoken.

"You going to take my money or ain't you?" saidTanner."I'm not going to take it." said the bartender.

"Then screw you," said Tanner, and he turned andwalked toward the door.