NETFEED/NEWS: President Anford Given Clean Bill of Health

(visual: Anford waving as he leaves Bethesda Naval Hospital)

VO: For the first time during his term of office, US President Rex Anford has declared himself healthy and fit, and his doctors back him up. Anford, who has long suffered from a mystery illness, which has inspired rumors about secret drinking and drug problems or incurable cancer, has spent most of his term in seclusion, allowing his vice president to handle much of the public work of governing. Now Anford declares that he is well and that things will change,

(visual: Anford in Rose Garden news conference.)

ANFORD: "I'm well. I'm healed. I haven't felt this good in years. I have a lot left I want to do, and, thank God, some time left in which to do it!"

"I'm scared," the little boy told her. There was no light in the room, and she didn't like it either, but she didn't want to say it.

"I'm scared of the dark," he said.

"When I'm scared, I hug Prince Pikapik," she said. "He's a toy—he's a talking otter. Sometimes I get under the blankets and I pretend the light is on, but it's just dark because I'm under the blanket."

"The blanket is over everything," the little boy told her.

"Sometimes I tell myself a story, like about the three bears, except that when I'm scared, Goldilocks and the bears have to be friends at the end."

"I don't have any stories left," the little boy told her. "I knew one, but I can't remember it anymore."

She didn't know why it was still so dark. She didn't remember why she was there or why this little boy was there with her. She thought she remembered a river made of sparkly light, but she wasn't sure. She also remembered another boy, a boy with a missing tooth, but he had gone somewhere. Cho-Cho. That was his name. But right now it was only her and this sad, scared boy—this little stranger.

"When I'm really, really frightened, I call my mommy," she said. "She comes in and kisses me and asks me if I had a bad dream. Then I don't feel so bad."

"I'm scared to meet my mommy," the little boy told her. "What if she doesn't like me? What if she thinks I'm bad?"

She didn't know what to say to that. "And sometimes, when I'm really scared of the dark, I sing a song."

For a while the little boy was quiet. Then he said, "I remember a song." And he began to sing in a funny, cracked voice.

"An angel touched me, an angel touched me,

the river washed me and now I am clean. . . ."

After a while she knew what words would come next and she helped him sing.

"I feel a little better," he said when they had finished. "I think I can go and meet my mommy now."

"Okay," she said, but she was wondering how he was going to go and if she could go too, because she didn't like being in the dark. " 'Bye, I guess."

" 'Bye." He was quiet again, but she knew he was still there in the darkness, not gone yet. "Are you . . . are you an angel?"

"I don't think so," she said.

"I think you are," he said, then he was gone, really gone.

And then she woke up.

At first she was scared, because it was still dark, even though she could hear her mommy's voice and her daddy's voice in the other room. Mommy was crying loud, and Daddy was saying something, but he sounded funny, too. She reached up and touched her face and found out she wasn't wearing the Storybook Sunglasses anymore, the lights were just out in the room. There was a little light coming under the door and there was broken glass on the carpet, but before Christabel could think about that she saw that someone was looking at her over the edge of the bed and for a second she was really scared.

"Hey, weenit," said Cho-Cho. "The 'lectricity's off."

There was just enough light coming under the door for her to see him. His hair was sticking up and he was making a funny face—not mean, not happy, not anything except surprised, like he was a little baby horse she had seen on the net getting born, staggering around in a field wondering what kind of animal it was and what it was supposed to do about it.

"I saw you in that place," he said, very quiet. "How come you came to that place?"

"You're awake." She was surprised. "What place? Mister Sellars said I had to help him, but then I fell asleep." She sat up, excited because she had an idea. "Is Mister Sellars awake, too?"

The boy shook his head. "Nah. But he say to tell you he okay. He. . . ."

But then her mother came through the door of the room, saying her name over and over really loud and really fast, and yanked her off the bed and squeezed her until Christabel almost thought she was going to spit up. Her father came in too, carrying a flashlight, and he was crying, so Christabel got scared all over again because she hadn't seen that before. But then he took her from her mother and kissed her on her face and he was so happy that she guessed things might really be all right.

Her mommy was kissing Cho-Cho now. Cho-Cho didn't know what to do.

She saw that Mister Ramsey was in the doorway with a big box flashlight, watching them all with his eyes wide and his face sort of worried but happy just like her daddy's, and she wanted to tell him to go wait with Mister Sellars in case the old man woke up and was scared, but her mommy was hugging her some more and telling her never never never go away like that again which was silly because she hadn't gone anywhere, she'd just been napping and having a dream, and so she didn't get to tell Mister Ramsey anything.

"Where am I?" His throat hurt and it was hard to talk. Long Joseph looked at the hanging curtains on either side of his bed, then back at the dark-skinned young man in the funny uniform. There was a strong smell of new plastic and alcohol. "What place is this?"

"Field hospital." The man had a university voice like Del Ray, but there was still a trace of the townships in it. "Back of a military ambulance, to be exact. Now lie down while I check your stitches."

"What happened?" He tried to sit up, but the young man only pushed him back down. "Where is Jeremiah?" He felt a sting up his arm as the bandage was pulled back, but nothing more than that. He looked down curiously at the long lines of translucent knots over pale, red-edged flesh. "What in hell happen to my arm?"

"A dog bit you," the young man said. "You nearly got your head chewed off, too. Try not to bend your neck."

"I have to get up." Joseph tried to sit up. He was remembering things now—lots of things. "Where are my friends? Where is Jeremiah? Del Ray?"

The young man pushed him back again. "Do that again and I call for the guards. You are under arrest, but you're not going anywhere, even to prison, until I decide you're ready."

"Arrest?" Joseph shook his head, which—he suddenly realized—hurt like sin. It felt like he had been drinking for days, then stopped. It is never the drinking that is the problem, he thought, it is the stopping. "Why arrest? Where are. . . ." A sudden cold ran through him. "Where is Renie? Oh my God, where is my daughter?"