Then he saw himself in the mirror.

Tools always broke, but the boy was an enduring constant. He attacked the door’s wood with screwdrivers and steel prods and other small, nearly useless implements. Then he set the hand lens on the floor and broke it with the leg of a chair, and wrapping the biggest shard inside his heaviest shirt, he sliced long narrow gouges into the softest board. Pressing as hard as possible, the sharp edge peeled out slivers, and he cut up the shirt and himself and finally stopped to heal. Then he went back to work and cut himself again and forgot to stop. Time didn’t matter. But it was still early morning and still very bright and nothing useful had been accomplished. So he dropped to the floor and stared at the bloody mess of his right hand, watching the blood pull back inside him before the skin closed and turned pink again. He was deciding if he should sit here and cry or cry in bed. Both plans had their merits, and he hadn’t decided. And that’s when a voice said something about the knob.

He didn’t know the voice. And to say that he heard words would overstate what happened. But there was a presence, both distant and exceptionally close. It came from the world or surfaced from his brain. Whatever the source, he felt it for a moment and then there was nothing to feel, and as if for the first time, he stared at the knob.

Rising to his feet, Diamond took two deep breaths. Then he grabbed the round brass ball with his unbloodied hand, and the repaired, well-lubricated mechanism turned easily, and not only wasn’t the knob locked, but while he was sleeping, sometime during that very long night, someone had taken the trouble to unlock the long bolts as well.

The door swung toward him.

And for the second time in his life, Diamond stood inside the larger world.

Barely more than whispering, he called for his mother.

Silence.

He walked to the end of the first hallway. A little louder this time, he said, “Mother?”

The silence held for a few moments. Then came a sharp click from somewhere close, and after a pause, two more clicks.

Diamond entered the second hallway and stopped. He stopped and looked back into his room, seeing Mister Mister sitting on the floor, waiting for him. He wanted to go back again and grab him up, and he might have done that. But a small quick shape burst out of another room or chamber, running out into the hallway, and seeing the boy standing a few steps away, the shape let out a bright musical yelp.

Diamond jumped backward.

The animal leaped straight up, dropping whatever was in its hand.

“What are you?” asked Diamond.

No bigger than his biggest stuffed toy, the animal was covered with dense short fur that was orange on the face and scalp and almost black on the body. The feet were like hands, and it stood on all four hands, showing the human a set of fearless yellow teeth.

On the floor between them lay a big ripe luscious. The purple skin had been pierced, revealing sweet cool white flesh. Diamond glanced at the fruit. The animal snarled and ran forward, grabbing up the treasure with its front hands, sticking the luscious into its mouth before backing down the hallway, finding that perfect distance where it could sit on its haunches, enjoying its meal while keeping close watch over its competitor.

“What are you?”

The creature was a surprise. Diamond couldn’t guess its name or where it fit among the animals of the world, much less how it got inside the house. He supposed that it could have always lived here, but wouldn’t there have been clues? His parents would have mentioned the creature, and he definitely would have heard anything so noisy. Yet in little ways, the face and body were familiar. Some of his stuffed animals were similar. That long face and the little hands had human flavors. Diamond watched the animal consume the luscious. Then he took one small step forward, and the animal noticed, lowering its front hands while the orange fur lifted, making its face appear bigger than before.

“Where’s my mother?”

Diamond expected a response. He deserved an answer, and the animal seemed to understand him. Every time he spoke, it reacted, sneering at him, yellow teeth and bluster proving that it was in a very foul mood.

“Have you seen my mother?”

It snarled.

“Are you a monster?”

Maybe it was. But Diamond’s imaginary monsters were enormous. Bulk and strength made them terrors, and this little beast was nothing compared to the dreams that made him afraid.

Green daylight was behind him. Diamond had come into the hallway ready to look outside. But he stepped away from the window, one stride and another, and reading his mind, the animal shoved the half-eaten fruit into its mouth before scampering away on all of its hands.

Diamond chased.

The animal leaped right at the first door, vanishing.

Loudly this time, the boy called out, “Mother.”

No one answered, and he turned where the animal turned.

The room was long and narrow with a second entrance at the far end. There was a high ceiling and multiple lights, but nothing about this space was large. Dead wood had been cut and fitted to make cabinets and shelves. There were dishes and old metal pots and every kind of utensil and bowl and plate. Broad metal boxes stood against opposite walls. One box had handles. The other was topped with iron grates, and above that box was an enormous tube painted black on the inside. Diamond smelled food. He smelled old fires and ashes and the stinking beginnings of rot. He assumed the animal had run out the far door, but a tiny noise came from overhead. That very small monster was on the highest shelf, perched on a space too small for its bulk and its energy. One misstep and it would tumble, yet it seemed utterly comfortable in that predicament.

Whatever the animal was, it had to know something about Mother. Diamond couldn’t think any other way. And if he could trap it and talk to it, maybe he could learn what was happening. That’s why the boy picked up a cooking pot by its handle, ready to threaten the animal with it, but the pot was filled with a cold sticky liquid that spilled over his arm and shirt. Diamond cried out in surprise, and seeing its chance, his opponent dropped to the counter beside him, ready to flee, the last of the fruit clamped in its greedy mouth.

Diamond swung the half-filled pot, smacking the animal in the head.

The luscious was dislodged, and the animal shrieked, and Diamond swung the pot again. But the animal was very quick. Jaws strong enough to shatter nuts pushed the long incisors into his hand, all the way to the bone, and Diamond yelled, in surprise and then pain. He dropped the pot. Standing on the counter, the animal opened its mouth and gave a hard long snarl. Diamond reached out. He had some idea about grabbing and shaking that furry head. But his enemy grabbed the boy’s right wrist with its front hands and expertly pulled the smallest finger into its mouth, sharp teeth cutting through the first joint.

A piece of finger was gone.

Diamond jumped back, gazing at the damage.

The animal spat out the fingertip, and it cackled in a wild, careless fashion, letting the world know that it was a monster indeed.

Pulling his injured hand close, Diamond began to cry.

The animal retrieved the original prize. The luscious was mostly eaten and the meat had turned gray, but it would always be something worth savoring. Squatting on the counter, the animal took slow tiny bites, enjoying the wet sounds and the sweetness as it watched the boy bleeding. Its mouth didn’t smile, but the black eyes did. Then nothing was left but the hard flesh around the pit, and the animal sucked on one end and then the other before tossing the pit to the floor, licking sticky lips and its own ten fingertips before those smiling eyes looked at Diamond, and it said, “Good.”