did"
"You… really think she's a-"
I shook my head tiredly. "I don't know, Anne," I said. "It doesn't make sense. Why should a place like this be haunted? It's only a couple of years old-and the only person who ever lived here was Mrs. Sentas' sister. And she just went east." I smiled wryly at the memory. "Not west," I repeated Phil's little joke.
She had to smile.
"Tom, Tom," she said, "remind me to kick my baby brother right smack in the teeth the next time we see him."
"Will do," I said weakly.
She hesitated a moment, then said, "You think maybe we should-"
"No," I said, forgetting my resolve not to anticipate her words. "I don't think Phil could help. Although it wouldn't hurt to write him and tell him to cut out hypnotizing people if he doesn't know what he's doing."
"I'll write in the morning," she said.
In a little while, she turned off the lamp and lay down beside me.
"Do you forgive me?" she asked.
"Oh, honey…" I put my arms around her and felt the warm fullness of her body against me. "There's nothing to forgive."
Which was when it came to me; simply, with absolute clarity.
I started to tell her, then stopped.
"What were you going to say?" she asked.
I swallowed. "Uh… in order to get out of going to another of her damned parties," I said, "I told Elsie we were going to your mother's tomorrow night for dinner."
"Oh." Anne made an amused sound. "So what do we do? Take in a drive-in movie until it's safe to return?"
"Exactly."
I lay there quietly, holding her close. What I'd started to say to her hadn't been about Elsie. I'd only said that to conceal my original words. Because, as I'd started to speak them, it had occurred to me that Anne might not want to hear them; whether she believed them or not. And, somehow, I felt that she would believe them now-even though the working out of them might be only an accident. After all there was a fifty percent chance of my being right no matter how or why I made the prediction-that our coming baby would be a girl.
ELEVEN
THE LETTER WAS DELIVERED SHORTLY AFTER TEN THE NEXT MORNING.
I took it into the kitchen to Anne, wondering why I felt so uneasy about it. I could see, from the handwriting on the envelope, that it was from her father. For a moment, I thought about my telling Elsie we were going to see Anne's mother that night; and wondered if it had been more than a coincidence.
Anne opened the letter and started to read it. I watched the expression of worry come into her face.
"Oh, no," she said.
It is your mother. I almost spoke the words aloud; then, quickly, closed my mouth before she noticed. She looked up.
"Mother's ill," she said.
I stared at her. I could hear the clock ticking on the cupboard.
"No," I said.
She thought I was referring to the letter. She went on reading it and I felt a great weight dragging down inside of me. I kept staring at Anne, beginning to feel sick.
"Dad say she's-"
She stopped instantly and looked at me in blank surprise.
She started to speak, stopped again. She did this several times. When, at last, she managed to force it, I knew it was against her will.
"What is it?" Her voice was low and frightened. I shook my head suddenly.
"Nothing," I said. My voice sounded brittle and artificial.
She kept looking at me. I felt my heart thudding heavily. I couldn't take my eyes from her. I saw her chest shake with uncontrolled breath.
"I want you to tell me what it is," she said.
"It's nothing." I felt dizzy. The room wavered around me. I thought I was going to fall.
"What is it?"
"It's nothing." Like a brainless parrot repeating. I kept staring at her.
"Tom-"
That was when the phone rang.
The sound that came from me was terrible. It was a moaning sound, a guttural, shaking exhalation of fright. Anne actually shrank back from me.
The
"You… really think she's a-"
I shook my head tiredly. "I don't know, Anne," I said. "It doesn't make sense. Why should a place like this be haunted? It's only a couple of years old-and the only person who ever lived here was Mrs. Sentas' sister. And she just went east." I smiled wryly at the memory. "Not west," I repeated Phil's little joke.
She had to smile.
"Tom, Tom," she said, "remind me to kick my baby brother right smack in the teeth the next time we see him."
"Will do," I said weakly.
She hesitated a moment, then said, "You think maybe we should-"
"No," I said, forgetting my resolve not to anticipate her words. "I don't think Phil could help. Although it wouldn't hurt to write him and tell him to cut out hypnotizing people if he doesn't know what he's doing."
"I'll write in the morning," she said.
In a little while, she turned off the lamp and lay down beside me.
"Do you forgive me?" she asked.
"Oh, honey…" I put my arms around her and felt the warm fullness of her body against me. "There's nothing to forgive."
Which was when it came to me; simply, with absolute clarity.
I started to tell her, then stopped.
"What were you going to say?" she asked.
I swallowed. "Uh… in order to get out of going to another of her damned parties," I said, "I told Elsie we were going to your mother's tomorrow night for dinner."
"Oh." Anne made an amused sound. "So what do we do? Take in a drive-in movie until it's safe to return?"
"Exactly."
I lay there quietly, holding her close. What I'd started to say to her hadn't been about Elsie. I'd only said that to conceal my original words. Because, as I'd started to speak them, it had occurred to me that Anne might not want to hear them; whether she believed them or not. And, somehow, I felt that she would believe them now-even though the working out of them might be only an accident. After all there was a fifty percent chance of my being right no matter how or why I made the prediction-that our coming baby would be a girl.
ELEVEN
THE LETTER WAS DELIVERED SHORTLY AFTER TEN THE NEXT MORNING.
I took it into the kitchen to Anne, wondering why I felt so uneasy about it. I could see, from the handwriting on the envelope, that it was from her father. For a moment, I thought about my telling Elsie we were going to see Anne's mother that night; and wondered if it had been more than a coincidence.
Anne opened the letter and started to read it. I watched the expression of worry come into her face.
"Oh, no," she said.
It is your mother. I almost spoke the words aloud; then, quickly, closed my mouth before she noticed. She looked up.
"Mother's ill," she said.
I stared at her. I could hear the clock ticking on the cupboard.
"No," I said.
She thought I was referring to the letter. She went on reading it and I felt a great weight dragging down inside of me. I kept staring at Anne, beginning to feel sick.
"Dad say she's-"
She stopped instantly and looked at me in blank surprise.
She started to speak, stopped again. She did this several times. When, at last, she managed to force it, I knew it was against her will.
"What is it?" Her voice was low and frightened. I shook my head suddenly.
"Nothing," I said. My voice sounded brittle and artificial.
She kept looking at me. I felt my heart thudding heavily. I couldn't take my eyes from her. I saw her chest shake with uncontrolled breath.
"I want you to tell me what it is," she said.
"It's nothing." I felt dizzy. The room wavered around me. I thought I was going to fall.
"What is it?"
"It's nothing." Like a brainless parrot repeating. I kept staring at her.
"Tom-"
That was when the phone rang.
The sound that came from me was terrible. It was a moaning sound, a guttural, shaking exhalation of fright. Anne actually shrank back from me.
The
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