roof! Anticipating her bellowing screams the girls had
gagged Carrie. "Now lie or sit still as a proper owl should," said the same harsh voice. "Perch here on the roof, near the chimney under the moon, and in the
morning you will be one of us."
Struggling and frantic now, Carrie tried to resist
the pull of so many who forced her to sit. Then, even
worse, they suddenly took away their hands and left
her there in the darkness on the roof--all alone. Far
away she heard the whispering titters of their retreat
and the slight click of a door latching down.
Cathy, Cathy, she screamed to herself, Chris,
come save me! Dr. Paul, why did you put me here?
Don't nobody want me? Sobbing, making small
mewing sounds while blindfolded, gagged and bound,
Carrie braved the steep incline of the huge, strange
roof and began to move toward where the latching
sound had come from. Inch by inch, sitting up and
sliding along on her bottom, Carrie moved forward,
praying every time she moved an inch not to fall. It
seemed from her faltering report that she gave me
much, much later that she was not only guided by
instinct, but she could hear, above and from behind the
oncoming spring thunderstorm, the sweet and distant
voice of Cory singing as he strummed his melancholy
song of finding his home and the sun again.
"Oh, Cathy, it was so strange way up there high, and the wind started to blow, and the rain began to fall, and the thunder rumbled and the lightning struck so I could see the brightness through the blindfold-- and all the time Cory was singing and leading me to the trapdoor that opened when I used my feet to force it upward, and somehow I wiggled through. Then I fell down the stairs! I fell into blackness and I heard a bone break. And the pain, it came like teeth and bit me so I couldn't see or feel anything or even hear the rain
anymore. And Cory, he went away."
.
Sunday morning came and Paul, Chris and I
were at the breakfast table eating brunch.
Chris had a hot, homemade buttery roll in his