"Black plumes waving, band banging on black velvet-muffled drums with black ivory bones, boy, boy! Then on top of it, have to get up this morning and tell Mom, not everything, but enough so she cried and yelled and cried some more, women sure like to cry, don't they? and called me her criminal son but--we didn't do anything bad, did we, Will?"
"Someone almost took a ride on a merry-go-round."
Jim walked along in the rain. "I don't think I want any more of that."
"You don't think!? After all this!? Good grief, let me tell you! The Witch, Jim, the balloon! Last night, all alone, I--"
But there was no time to tell it.
No time to tell his stabbing the balloon so it gusted away to die in the lonely country sinking the blind woman with it.
No time because walking in the cold rain now, they heard a sad sound.
They were passing an empty lot, deep within which stood a vast oak tree. Under it were rainy shadows, and the sound.
"Jim," said Will, "someone's--crying."
"No." Jim moved on.
"There's a little girl in there."
"No." Jim would not look. "What would a girl be doing out under a tree in the rain? Come on."
"Jim! You hear her!"
"No! I don't, I don't!"
But then the crying came stronger across the dead grass, flew like a sad bird through the rain, and Jim had to turn, for there was Will marching across the rubble.
"Jim--that voice--I know it!"
"Will, don't go there!"
And Jim did not move, but Will stumbled and walked until he entered the shade of the raining tree where the sky fell and was lost in autumn leaves and crept down at last in shining rivers along the branches and trunk and there was the little girl, crouched, face buried in her hands, weeping as if the town were gone and the people in it and herself lost in terrible woods.
And at last Jim came edging up and stood at the edge of the shadow and said, "Who is it?"
"I don't know." But Will felt tears start to his eyes, as if some part of him guessed.
"It's not Jenny Holdridge, is it ...?"
"No."
"Jane Franklin?"
"No." His mouth felt full of novocaine, his tongue merely stirred in his numb lips. "... no ..."
The little girl wept, feeling them near, but not looking up yet.
"... me ... me ... help me ... nobody'll help me ... me ... I don't like this ..."
Then when she had strength enough and was quieter she turned her face, her eyes almost swollen shut with weeping. She was shocked to see anyone near, then surprised.
"Jim! Will! Oh God, it's you!"
She seized Jim's hand. He writhed back, yelling. "No! I don't know you, let go!"
"Will, help me, Jim, oh don't go, don't leave!" she gasped, brokenly, new tears bursting from her eyes.