Suffer the Children (26 page)

Jack shrugged. “I don’t see how. Not as long as you’re here and they stay in the house,” he said. “But I’d feel more comfortable if I knew what was going on.”

“Jimmy Tyler,” Rose said slowly. “That’s odd.”

“What’s odd?”

“That he should disappear. I mean, suppose Anne Forager’s story is true, and frankly I’m beginning to think it is. Well, then, at least it makes some kind of sense for Kathy Burton to have disappeared. But Jimmy Tyler?”

“I don’t see what you’re getting at,” Jack said, although he was afraid he did.

“Well, let’s face it,” Rose said. “There haven’t been any kidnap notes or ransom demands, have there? So what does that leave? A nut Some crazy person who gets turned on to children little girls. Except that now Jimmy Tyler is missing, too, and he doesn’t fit the pattern.”

“If there is a pattern,” Jack said reluctantly.

“Isn’t there?” Rose was looking into his eyes. “Don’t you see a pattern?”

“Yes,” Jack said finally, “I suppose I do.” He hoped that what was hanging between them, unsaid, would remain unsaid. “And it doesn’t help matters that it’s all happening out here, does it?”

“No,” Rose said quietly. “It doesn’t” She was about to say more when Elizabeth appeared at the door. Rose wondered how long she had been standing there.

“Mother?” Elizabeth said uncertainly.

“Come in, darling,” Rose said, glad of the interruption.

“Is it trae that Jimmy Tyler’s gone too?”

Rose glanced at Jack, unsure of how to handle the question, and saw that she was on her own. She could see no point in denying it.

“Yes, he’s been missing since yesterday afternoon.”

“What time?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

“Why, I don’t know,” Rose responded, puzzled. “I don’t think anybody knows, really. But no one’s seen him since after school.”

“I walked home with him yesterday,” Elizabeth said slowly, as if trying to remember something.

“You did?” Rose said. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I guess it didn’t seem important,” Elizabeth said, and Rose got the definite impression that her daughter was thinking about something else.

“Is something bothering you, dear?” she asked the girl.

“I—I don’t know,” Elizabeth said hesitantly. “It’s just that I’m not sure—” She broke off, and Rose prompted her again.

“Sure of what, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. Finally she sat down and looked at her mother, a worried expression on her face.

“I don’t know, really,” Elizabeth said. “But I thought I saw Jimmy yesterday afternoon.”

“You mean after you walked home with him?” Jack asked.

Elizabeth nodded. “But I’m not sure it was him,” she said, as if it was somehow important that whoever she had seen might
not
be Jimmy Tyler.

“Where did you think you saw him?” Jack pressed.

“In the field,” Elizabeth blurted. “Playing with Sarah.”

“But you couldn’t see them clearly?” Rose asked, knowing what was coming.

“They were too far away,” Elizabeth said miserably. “They were almost to the woods.”

“I see.” Rose sighed. She avoided looking at Jack, afraid to see if he was feeling the same thing she was feeling. Instead, she spoke again to her daughter.

“They were by themselves?” she asked, and hoped that Elizabeth wouldn’t hear the implied criticism. After all, Rose reflected, she
isn’t
Sarah’s nurse. She wished she could have retracted the question, but didn’t see how she could.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said apologetically. “I was in my room. I wouldn’t have seen them at all if I hadn’t looked out the window. I thought Sarah was in her room. I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Rose heard Jack say. “You aren’t responsible for Sarah.” Rose wished she’d said it “Why don’t you go upstairs, honey, so your mother and I can talk.”

Elizabeth left the room. Rose had the impression that she left only because she had been told to, that she wanted to stay. But there was nothing more to be said. She looked at her husband, but he was avoiding her gaze. The silence stretched until Rose could bear it no more.

“I don’t know what to think,” she said at last “I’m not sure I want to think at all.”

“Maybe we’d better call Dr. Belter,” Jack said.

“No,” Rose said, too sharply. “I mean, call him about what?”

Now it was Jack’s turn to sigh tiredly. “Don’t you think it’s time for us to face up to it?” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jack smiled ruefully. “What do you suppose would happen to us if we both decided to bury our heads in the sand at the same time?”

“All right,” Rose said after a short silence, her voice stronger. “You’re right, of course. I suppose we’re going to have to accept the possibility that Sarah is getting dangerous. Is that it?”

“That’s it,” Jack said. “Of course, it may easily not
be true, but I don’t think we can sit here and do nothing. Not considering what’s been happening.”

“Let’s talk to her,” Rose said desperately. “Let’s at least try to talk to her before we do anything.”

“What good’ll it do?”

“I don’t know,” Rose said. “But we can at least try, can’t we?” Her eyes were beseeching him, and finally Jack stood up.

“All right,” he said. “Shall I go get her?”

“No!” Rose said immediately. “I’ll get her. You wait here.”

While she was gone, Jack mixed himself a drink. The hell with the meeting, he thought.

A few minutes later Rose was back, leading Sarah by the hand. She followed along docilely, almost as if she were unaware of what was happening. She wasn’t resisting, but she didn’t seem to be actively involved, either.

Rose sat the child down, then knelt beside her. Sarah sat quietly on the sofa, staring vacantly into the air in front of her face. After a minute or two her right hand went up and her thumb disappeared into her mouth.

“Sarah,” Rose said quietly.

Sarah continued to sit, sucking her thumb, apparently not hearing her mother’s voice.

“Sarah,” Rose repeated, a little louder. “Do you hear me?”

Sarah’s head turned, and she peered blankly at her mother. Rose made a distinct effort not to turn away.

“Sarah!” Jack said sharply. The child’s head swung around, and her gaze fell on her father. Jack met her eyes for a moment, but he was not as strong as Rose. He broke the eye contact, and sipped his drink.

“Sarah,” Rose said again. “Were you playing with Jimmy Tyler yesterday?”

No response.

“We need to know,” Rose said. “Can’t you at least nod your head? Were you playing with Jimmy Tyler
yesterday? Jimmy Tyler!” she repeated, more loudly, as if her child were hard of hearing. Her frustration rose as her daughter continued to stare vacantly into her eyes. Her hand moved to her forehead and brushed back a nonexistent stray hair.

“Sarah,” she began again. “We know you were playing with Jimmy Tyler in the field yesterday. It’s all right All we need to know is if you went into the woods. Did you go into the woods?”

No response.

“For God’s sake, Sarah,” Rose pleaded. “It’s terribly important. Please, please, try to understand. He went home, didn’t he? Jimmy Tyler went home?”

Sarah continued to stare at her mother. The silence hung heavy in the room. And then, very slowly, Sarah shook her head.

The meeting in town was chaotic, and Jack was sorry he had agreed to take Carl Stevens with him. Jack was embarrassed for the town, and he knew he had not been good company. All he could see, first on the way to Ray Norton’s house and then as they drove into Port Arbello, was a vision of Sarah staring darkly into the distance and slowly shaking her head. Over and over again Jack tried to tell himself that it was a good sign, that Sarah finally had responded to something. But over and over he would remember what she had responded to, the question Rose had asked, and despair would close in on him again. Jimmy Tyler had not gone home. Sarah knew that Jimmy Tyler had not gone home. The time was getting very near when all of them—he and his wife and Elizabeth and Mrs. Goodrich—were going to have to accept the fact that Sarah would no longer be with them. But not yet.

The faces of the people of Port Arbello loomed around him, and Jack found himself unable to meet
some of the eyes that he imagined were staring at him accusingly. Marilyn Burton greeted him warmly, but he was sure he heard a false note in her voice. Lenore Tyler smiled and waved, and Jack wondered why she hadn’t spoken. Had she guessed?

Although Marty Forager had claimed that there was to be no chairman at the meeting, he did his best to run it his way.

“There’s something going on in this town,” he shouted, “and it’s going on out at Conger’s Point.”

Suddenly all the eyes in the packed auditorium were turned on Jack, and he realized he would have to say something.

He stood up and faced the town. Suddenly they were no longer his old friends; suddenly he was no longer Mr. Conger of Conger’s Point Road. Suddenly Conger’s Point was something to be afraid of, not respected. And he was the man who lived there.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he began, and a murmur ran through the crowd, a murmur that Jack was afraid could turn the crowd into a mob. He’d have to do better than that He listened to his own words and wondered where they came from.

“My daughter saw Jimmy Tyler yesterday afternoon.”

“How did she tell you that? Sign language?” a mocking voice shouted from the rear. Jack flinched and fought to contain his sudden rage.

“Elizabeth saw Jimmy Tyler,” he heard himself say. “Down by the old quarry. She talked to him. She told him to go home. She told him it was a dangerous place to play, but he didn’t pay any attention to her. She told me that when she came home, just before dark, he was still there. That’s all.”

Jack sat down, and felt the eyes of the town staring curiously at him. He wondered if they knew he was lying, and tried to convince himself that he had lied only because of the way the meeting was going, because of
the feeling he had gotten of a mob on the verge of rampage. But he knew that that wasn’t true either. He had lied to protect his daughter. His baby daughter.

Then they formed a posse. They called it a search party, but Jack knew it was a posse. Ray Norton tried to stop them, but there was nothing he could do. Perhaps
it
Marilyn Burton hadn’t been there, or Lenore and Bill Tyler had stayed away, Norton could have controlled the situation. But the fact was that they were there, and their very presence, combined with the rantings of Martin Forager, aroused in them the desire to
do
something. Anything.

And so they went out to the old quarry. Ray Norton made sure that he was in the lead, and found a spot to park his car that effectively blocked the road. If there was anything there, Ray Norton wanted to make sure it stayed there. He didn’t want any evidence obliterated by fifteen cars driving over the soft ground. Norton organized them as best he could, and the men of Port Arbello spread out to search the area. It was ironic that the only person to find anything was Martin Forager.

What he found was tire tracks. They were fresh, and they were of an odd sort As the men gathered to examine them, Jack Conger smiled to himself. The tracks would strengthen his story.

They were preparing to leave the quarry when Ray Norton drew him aside.

“Well,” Jack said when they were sitting alone in Norton’s car, “at least you have something to work on.”

“Yeah,” Norton said, but he didn’t look too hopeful. “I just wonder what those tracks will lead to. If you ask me, well never even find the car that left them. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Jack looked at the police chief questioningly. Norton looked uncomfortable, as if he weren’t quite sure how to begin. He decided that the best way was the most direct way.

“Look, Jack,” he said. “I know what I’m about to say sounds silly, but I have to say it anyway. Or, rather, ask. How much do you know about the old legend about your family?”

Jack tried to smile, but underneath the smile he felt chilled.

“I know there is one,” he said carefully. “What’s it got to do with all of this?”

“Nothing, probably,” Norton said. “If I remember right, there was supposed to be a cave involved, wasn’t there?”

Jack nodded. “Yup. The old lady claimed it was somewhere in the embankment But of course she never claimed to have seen it, except in her so-called vision.”

“Well, what about it?”

Jack looked at the policeman blankly. “What about it?”

“Does it exist?”

“The cave?” Jack said incredulously. “Are you serious? My God, Ray, the cave was never anything but the figment of an old lady’s imagination. If someone told the same story today they’d say she was senile. And they’d be right.”

“But didn’t anyone ever look for it?” the police chief persisted.

“Sure,” Jack said. “My grandfather did. And it cost him his life. That embankment is a dangerous place. It’s steep and slippery and treacherous. Fortunately, we’ve had the legend to keep all the kids away from the place.”

“And none of them ever went to find out if there was anything there?” Norton said curiously. “You know, when I was a kid the one thing I always wanted to do was go look for that cave. But I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Jack asked. “The embankment was there.”

“Ah, but it was on the Congers’ property. Don’t forget, when I was a kid your family was almost royalty
around here. We may nave wandered all over everybody else’s land, but not the Congers’.”

Jack chuckled, remembering. It had almost been like that when he had been a boy. “Well, let me set your mind at rest,” he said. “Of course I went to look for the cave. And I imagine my father did too. But I didn’t find it, probably because it simply isn’t there. If it was, I’d have found it.”

“Okay,” Norton said. “I was almost hoping you’d never looked, and that we could torn the damned thing up. I can’t turn the whole town out searching for it, not when all I have to go cm is an old tale of a senile woman’s visions. We’d probably lose three men in the looking. So I guess it’s back to the quarry. I hope you won’t have any objections to my sending out a crew to drag it?”