“Hold what back?” I asked him, but he wouldn’t say anything else, just went away to wherever it is he goes. Later on, while he was eating his lunch (the usual, Chef Boyardee amp; choco milk), I came upstairs amp; sat on the bed amp; thought. After my brother and his family were killed, the witnesses talked about a red van that maybe had a radar-dish or some other form of telecommunications equipment on the roof. A mystery-van, the paper called it. Tracker Arrow is red. And it has a dish on the roof.

I told myself I was completely crazy, and then I thought about the Dream Floater Herb amp; I saw in the back yard. It wasn’t real, of course, but it was full-sized… and Seth was asleep when we saw it. Maybe not operating at full power.

Suppose the SLB gets tired of just breaking windows'? Suppose he sends Tracker Arrow (or Dream Floater, the Justice Wagon, or Freedom) to do a little drive-by at the Hobarts'?

I can’t hold it back much longer, Seth said.

June 27, 1995 Spent most of the day at Mohonk with Jan Goodlin. 1 know I shouldn’t-it’s as much a retreat as drugs or alcohol would be-but it’s hard to resist. We talked about our folks, and embarrassing things that happened to us in high school, all the usual. Trivial and wonderful. Until the very end. I saw the little phone was gone, which means it’s time to go back, amp;Jan said to me: ⁽Tou know where he’s getting the energy to work on the Hobarts, don’t you, Aud?”

Sure I do: from Herb. He’s stealing it like a vampire steals blood. And I think that Herb knows it, too.

June 28, 1995

Late this morning I was sitting at the kitchen table, making up a shopping list, when I heard the whoop-whoop-whoop of an ambulance siren. I went out front in time to see it pull up in front of the Hobarts” with its lights flashing. The EMTs got out amp; hurried inside. I went inside my own house-ran, actually-and looked out into the back yard, from the kitchen. Seth was gone. Power Wagons lined up in the sandbox, slant-parked the way he always puts them when he’s done for a while, the Ponderosa all neat with the plastic horses in their corral, the HQ Crisis Center down near the swing… but no Seth. If I told you I was surprised, I’d be lying.

By the time I got back to the front, people were standing out on their sidewalks all up and down the street, looking at the Hobart place. Dave and Jim Reed were in their driveway, and I asked them if they had seen Seth.

“There he is, Mrs Wyler,” Dave says, and points down to the store. Seth was standing by the bike rack, looking across the street, just like the rest of us. “He must have gone for a candybar.”

“Yes,” I reply, knowing that a) Seth has no money; b) Seth can hardly talk to Herb and me, let alone to store-clerks he doesn’t know; c) Seth never leaves the back yard.

Seth doesn’t, but sometimes the Stalky Little Boy does, it seems. To get into operating range, I think.

About five minutes later, the EMTs helped Irene Hobart out the door. Hugh, the son, was holding her hand amp; crying. I hated that kid, absolutely did, but I don’t anymore. Now I only pity him amp; fear for him. There was blood all down the front of her dress. She was holding a compress on her nose, amp; one of the EMTs was pressing the top of her neck in the back. They got her into the ambulance-Hugh got in right behind her- amp; drove away.

She was back less than two hours later (by then Seth was safely tucked away in the den, watching old Westerns on cable). Kim Getter dropped by for coffee amp; told me she went down to see if she could do anything for Irene. She’s the only one on the block who is what you could call friendly with the Hobarts. She said everything is under control, but that Irene had a scare. She has bad hypertension. Takes medication for it, but it’s still barely controlled. She’s had nosebleeds before, but never one as bad as this. She told Kim it went all at once, blood just spraying out of her nostrils, and it wouldn’t stop even when she cold-packed it. Hugh got scared amp; called 911. The EMTs insisted on taking her to the hospital to see if she needed to have the inside of her nose cauterized, even tho the bleeding had mostly stopped by the time the ambulance got to the house.

I got Seth inside and started shaking him. Told him he had to stop. He only looked at me, his mouth trembling. I was the one who stopped, angry amp; ashamed of myself. I was shaking the wrong one.

I could see the other one, though. I swear I could. Hiding behind Seth’s eyes and laughing at me. I think the most terrible thing of all is how the SLB knows to leave Hugh Hobart alone. To let him just watch.

June 29, 1995

Woke up this morning around 3 a.m. and the other half of the bed was empty. The bathroom, too. I went downstairs, scared. No one in the living room, den, or kitchen. I went out to the garage amp; found Herb sitting at his workbench, wearing nothing but the Jockeys he sleeps in, amp; crying. He put in hi-intensity lighting out there two years ago-metal-hooded lamps that look like the kinds you see in pool-parlors- amp; in their glow I could see how much weight he’s lost. He looks horrible. Like he has anorexia nervosa. I took him in my arms amp; he wept like a baby. Kept saying he was tired, so tired all the time. I said something about taking him to see Dr Evers first thing in the morning. He just laughed, said I knew what was wrong with him.

I do, of course.

July 1, 1995

Another ambulance at the Hobart house late this afternoon. As soon as I saw it I raced upstairs to check on Seth, who was supposedly napping. No Seth. Window open-second-floor window- amp; no Seth. When I went outside, I saw him across the street, holding old Tom Billingsley’s hand. I ran across amp; grabbed him.

“No fear, he’s all right, Aud,” Tom said. “Just went wanderin” a little, didn’t you, Sethieboy?”

“Don’t you ever cross the street on your own!” I told him. “Don’t you ever\” Shook him again in spite of myself. Stupid; might as well shake a lump of wax.

This time when the EMTs came out, they were using their stretcher. Wm. Hobart was on it. “Seems like just lately if it wasn’t for bad luck, those Hobarts wouldn’t have any luck at all,” Tom said.

This is supposed to be Mr Hobart’s vacation week, but he will be spending at least some of it in County General. He fell downstairs, broke his leg amp; hip. Kim told me later that he drinks, church deacon at Zion’s Covenant or not. Maybe he does drink, but I don’t think that’s why he fell downstairs.

July 3, 1995

There’s no Stalky Little Boy. Never was. There’s a thirty inside of Seth-not an id, not another manifestation of his personality, not a hitchhiker, but something lik e a tapeworm. It can think. And talk. It talked to me today.

It calls itself Tak.

July 6, 1995

Someone shot the Hobarts” pet Angora cat last night. Apparently nothing left but blood amp; fur. Kim says Irene H. is hysterical, thinks everyone on the street is out to get them because they know the Hobarts are going to heaven amp; the rest of us are going to hell. “So they are making this hell on earth for us” is what she told Kim. She begged Kim to tell her who did it, said

Hugh was devastated, wouldn’t come out of his room, just lay there on his bed, crying amp; saying it was all his fault cause he was a sinner. When Kim said she didn’t know and didn’t think anyone on Poplar Street would shoot the Hobarts” cat, Mrs Hobart said Kim was just like the rest amp; told her they weren’t friends anymore. Kim very upset, but not as upset as I am.

What in God’s name should I do? It hasn’t hurt anyone too badly yet, but-July 8, 1995