Andre Norton - Long Night of Waiting

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What—what are we going to do?" Lesley squeezed her hands so tightly together they hurt. She really

wanted to run, as far and as fast as she could.

Rick was not running. He stood there, still holding to Alex's belt, just as he had grabbed his brother to

keep him from following Matt. Following him where?

"We won't do anything," Rick answered slowly.

"But people'll ask—all kinds of questions. You only have to look at that—" Lesley pointed with her chin

to what was now before them.

Alex still struggled for freedom. "Want Matt!" he yelled at the top of his voice. He wriggled around to

beat at Rick with his fists.

"Let me go! Let me go—with Matt!"

Rick shook him. "Now listen here, shrimp. Matt's gone. You can't get to him now. Use some

sense—look there. Do you see Matt? Well, do you?"

Lesley wondered how Rick could be so calm— accepting all of this just as if it happened every

day—like going to school, or watching a tel-cast, or the regular, safe things. How could he just stand

there and talk to Alex as if he were grown up and Alex was just being pesty as he was sometimes? She

watched Rick wonderingly, and tried not to think of what had just happened.

"Matt?" Alex had stopped fighting. His voice sounded as if he were going to start bawling in a minute or

two. And when Alex cried—! He would keep on and on, and they would have questions to answer. If

they told the real truth—Lesley drew a deep breath and shivered.

No one, no one in the whole world would ever believe them! Not even if they saw what was right out

here in this field now. No one would believe—they would say that she, Lesley, and Rick, and Alex were

all mixed up in their minds. And they might even be sent away to a hospital or something! No, they could

never tell the truth! But Alex, he would blurt out the whole thing if anyone asked a question about Matt.

What could they do about Alex?

Her eyes questioned Rick over Alex's head. He was still holding their young brother, but Alex had

turned, was gripping Rick's waist, looking up at him demandingly, waiting, Lesley knew, for Rick to

explain as he had successfully most times in Alex's life. And if Rick couldn't explain this time?

Rick hunkered down on the ground, his hands now on Alex's shoulders.

"Listen, shrimp, Matt's gone. Lesley goes, I go, to school—"

Alex sniffed. "But the bus comes then, and you get on while I watch—then you come home again—" His

small face cleared. "Then Matt—he'll come back? He's gone to school? But this is Saturday! You an'

Lesley don't go on Saturday. How come Matt does? An' where's the bus? There's nothin' but that mean

old dozer that's chewin' up things. An' now all these vines and stuff—and the dozer tipped right over

an'—" He screwed around a little in Rick's grip to stare over his brother's hunched shoulder at the

disaster area beyond.

"No." Rick was firm. "Matt's not gone to school. He's gone home—to his own place. You remember

back at Christmas time, Alex, when Peter came with Aunt Fran and Uncle Porter? He came for a visit.

Matt came with Lizzy for a visit—now he's gone back home—just like Peter did."

"But Matt said—he said this was his home!" countered Alex. "He didn't live in Cleveland like Peter."

"It was his home once," Rick continued still in that grown-up way. "Just like Jimmy Rice used to live

down the street in the red house. When Jimmy's Dad got moved by his company, Jimmy went clear out

to St. Louis to live."

"But Matt was sure! He said this was his home!" Alex frowned. "He said it over and over, that he had

come home again."

"At first he did," Rick agreed. "But later, you know that Matt was not so sure, was he now? You think

about that, shrimp."

Alex was still frowning. At least he was not screaming as Lesley feared he would be. Rick, she was

suddenly very proud and a little in awe of Rick. How had he known how to keep Alex from going into

one of his tantrums?

"Matt—he did say funny things. An' he was afraid of cars. Why was he afraid of cars, Rick?"

"Because where he lives they don't have cars."

Alex's surprise was open. "Then how do they go to the store? An' to Sunday School, an' school, an'

every place?"

"They have other ways, Alex. Yes, Matt was afraid of a lot of things, he knew that this was not his home,

that he had to go back."

"But—I want him—he—" Alex began to cry, not with the loud screaming Lesley had feared, but in a way

now which made her hurt a little inside as she watched him butt his head against Rick's shoulder, making

no effort to smear away the tears as they wet his dirty cheeks.

"Sure you want him," Rick answered. "But Matt— he was afraid, he was not very happy here, now was

he, shrimp?"

"With me, he was. We had a lot of fun, we did!"

"But Matt wouldn't go in the house, remember? Remember what happened when the lights went on?"

"Matt ran an' hid. An' Lizzy, she kept telling him an' telling him they had to go back. Maybe if Lizzy hadn't

all the time told him that—"

Lesley thought about Lizzy. Matt was little—he was not more than Alex's age—not really, in spite of

what the stone said. But Lizzy had been older and quicker to understand. It had been Lizzy who had

asked most of the questions and then been sick (truly sick to her stomach) when Lesley and Rick

answered them. Lizzy had been sure of what had happened then—just like she was sure about the

other—that the stone must never be moved, nor that place covered over to trap anybody else. So that

nobody would fall through—

Fall through into what? Lesley tried to remember all the bits and pieces Lizzy and Matt had told about

where they had been for a hundred and ten years—a hundred and ten just like the stone said.

She and Rick had found the stone when Alex had run away. They had often had to hunt Alex like that.

Ever since he learned to open the Safe-tee gate he would go off about once a week or so. It was about

two months after they moved here, before all the new houses had been built and the big apartments at the

end of the street. This was all more like real country then. Now it was different, spoiled—just this one

open place left and that (unless Lizzy was right in thinking she'd stopped it all) would not be open long.

The men had started to clear it off with the bulldozer the day before yesterday. All the ground on that

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Andre Norton - Long Night of Waiting

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