'It burned?' Chuck's voice was incredulous. Behind him, others were crowding up the stairs now, whispering in low, affrighted voices. 'Are you saying it burned down?'
No one answered. And then, suddenly, from somewhere behind him, Patty Strachan began to talk in a high, hysterical voice. 'It's his fault, that guy there! He made it happen! He set it on fire by his mind, just like in that book Carrie. You murderer! Killer! You ...
Roger turned toward her. 'SHUT UP!' He roared.
Patty collapsed into wild sobs.
'Burned?' Chuck repeated. He seemed to be asking himself now, inquiring if that could possibly be the right word.
'Roger?' Shelley whispered. 'Rog? Honey?'
There was a growing mutter on the stairs, and in the playroom below, like a stir of leaves. The stereo clicked off. The voices murmured.
Was Mike there? Shannon went, didn't she? Are you sure? Yes, I was all ready to leave when Chuck called me. My mother was there when that guy freaked out and she said she felt like a goose was walking on her grave, she asked me to come here instead. Was Casey there? Was Ray there? Was Maureen Ontello there? Oh my God, was she? Was...
Roger stood up slowly and turned around. 'I suggest,' he said, 'that we find the soberest people here to drive and that we all go down to the hospital. They'll need blood donors.'
Johnny sat like a stone. He found himself wondering if he would ever move again. Outside, thunder rumbled.
And followed on its heels like an inner clap, he heard his dying mother's voice:
Do your duty, John.
Chapter Twenty-four
August 12, 1977
Dear Johnny,
Finding you wasn't much of a trick - I sometimes think if you have enough free cash, you can find anyone in this country, and the cash I got. Maybe I'm risking your resentment stating it as baldly as that, but Chuck and Shelley and I owe you too much to tell you less than the truth. Money buys a lot, but it can't buy off the lightning. They found twelve boys still in the men's room opening off the restaurant, the one where the window had been nailed shut. The fire didn't reach there but the smoke did, and all twelve of them were suffocated. I haven't been able to get that out of my mind, because Chuck could have been one of those boys. So I had you 'tracked down', as you put it in your letter. And for the same reason, I can't leave you alone as you requested. At least not until the enclosed check comes back canceled with your endorsement on the back.
You'll notice that it's a considerably smaller check than the one you returned about a month ago. I got in touch with the EMMC Accounts Department and paid your outstanding hospital bills with the balance of it. You're free and clear that way, Johnny. That I could do, and I did it - with great pleasure, I might add.
You protest you can't take the money. I say you can and you will You will, Johnny. I traced you to Ft. Lauderdale, and if you leave there I will trace you to the next place you go, even if you decide on Nepal. Call me a louse who won't let go if you want to; I see myself more as 'the Hound of Heaven'. I don't want to hound you, Johnny. I remember you telling me that day not to sacrifice my son. I almost did. And what about the others? Eighty-one dead, thirty more terribly maimed and burned. I think of Chuck saying maybe we could work out some kind of a story, spin a yarn or something, and me saying with all the righteousness of the totally stupid, 'I won't do that, Chuck. Don't ask me." Well, I could have done something. That's what haunts me. I could have given that butcher Carrick ~3,ooo to pay off his help and shut down for the night. It would have come to about ~37 a life. So believe me when I say I don't want to hound you; I'm really too busy hounding myself to want to spare the time. I think I'll be doing it for quite a few years to come. I'm paying up for refusing to believe anything I couldn't touch with one of my five senses. And please don't believe that paying the bills and tendering this check is just a sop to my conscience. Money can't buy off the lightning, and it can't buy an end to bad dreams, either. The money is for Chuck, although he knows nothing about it.
Take the check and I'll leave you in peace. That's the deal. Send it on to UNICEF, if you want, or give it to a home for orphan bloodhounds, or blow it all on the ponies. I don't care. Just take it.
I'm sorry you felt you had to leave in such a hurry, but I believe I understand. We all hope to see you soon. Chuck leaves for Stovington Prep on September 4.
Johnny, take the check. Please.
All regards,
Roger Chatsworth
September 1 1977
Dear Johnny,
Will you believe that I'm not going to let this go? Please. Take the check.
Regards,
Roger
Dear Johnny,