Danny shuffled his feet. "He's just an invisible friend," he said. "I made him up. To keep me company."
Edmonds laughed and put his hands on Danny's shoulders. "Now that's what your Mom and Dad say. But this is just between us, guy. I'm your doctor. Tell me the truth and I'll promise not to tell them unless you say I can."
Danny thought about it. He looked at Edmonds and then, with a small effort of concentration, he tried to catch Edmonds's thoughts or at least the color of his mood. And suddenly he got an oddly comforting image in his head: file cabinets, their doors sliding shut one after another, locking with a click. Written on the small tabs in the center of each door was: A-C, SECRET; D-G, SECRET; and so on. This made Danny feel a little easier.
Cautiously he said: "I don't know who Tony is."
"Is he your age?"
"No. He's at least eleven. I think he might be even older. I've never seen him right up close. He might be old enough to drive a car."
"You just see him at a distance, huh?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And he always comes just before you pass out?"
"Well, I don't pass out. It's like I go with him. And he shows me things."
"What kind of things?"
"Well..." Danny debated for a moment and then told Edmonds about Daddy's trunk with all his writing in it, and about how the movers hadn't lost it between Vermont and
Colorado after all. It had been right under the stairs all along.
"And your daddy found it where Tony said he would?"
"Oh yes, sir. Only Tony didn't tell me. He showed me."
"I understand. Danny, what did Tony show you last night? When you locked yourself in the bathroom?"
"I don't remember," Danny said quickly.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir."
"A moment ago I said you locked the bathroom door. But that wasn't right, was it? Tony locked the door."
"No, sir. Tony couldn't lock the door because he isn't real. He wanted me to do it, so I did. I locked it."
"Does Tony always show you where lost things are?"
"No, sir. Sometimes he shows me things that are going to happen."
"Really?"
"Sure. Like one time Tony showed me the amusements and
wild animal park in Great Barrington. Tony said Daddy was going to take me there for my birthday. He did, too."
"What else does he show you?"
Danny frowned. "Signs. He's always showing me stupid old signs. And I can't read them, hardly ever."
"Why do you suppose Tony would do that, Danny?"
"I don't know." Danny brightened. "But my daddy and mommy are teaching me to read, and I'm trying real hard."
"So you can read Tony's signs."
"Well, I really want to learn. But that too, yeah."
"Do you like Tony, Danny?"
Danny looked at the tile floor and said nothing.
"Danny?"
"It's hard to tell," Danny said. "I used to. I used to hope he'd come every day, because he always showed me good things, especially since Mommy and Daddy don't think about DIVORCE anymore." Dr. Edmonds's gaze sharpened, but Danny didn't notice. He was looking hard at the floor, concentrating on expressing himself. "But now whenever he comes he shows me bad things. Awful things. Like in the bathroom last night. The things he shows me, they sting me like those wasps stung me. Only Tony's things sting me up here." He cocked a finger gravely at his temple, a small boy unconsciously burlesquing suicide.
"What things, Danny?"
"I can't remember!" Danny cried out, agonized. "I'd tell you if I could! It's like I can't remember because it's so bad I don't want to remember. All I can remember when I wake up is REDRUM."
"Red drum or red rum?"
"Rum.,'
"What's that, Danny?"
"I don't know."
"Danny?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Can you make Tony come now?"
"I don't know. He doesn't always come. I don't even know if I want him to come anymore."
"Try, Danny. I'll be right here."
Danny looked at Edmonds doubtfully. Edmonds nodded encouragement.
Danny let out a long, sighing breath and nodded. "But I don't know if it will work. I never did it with anyone looking at me before. And Tony doesn't always come, anyway."
"If he doesn't, he doesn't," Edmonds said. "I just want you to try."
"Okay."
He dropped his gaze to Edmonds's slowly swinging loafers and cast his mind outward toward his mommy and daddy. They were here someplace... right beyond that wall with the picture on it, as a matter of fact. In the waiting room where they had come in. Sitting side by side but not talking. Leafing through magazines. Worried. About him.
He concentrated harder, his brow furrowing, trying to get Into the feeling of his mommy's thoughts. It was always harder when they weren't right there in the room with him. Then he began to get it. Mommy was thinking about a sister. Her sister. The sister was dead. His mommy was thinking that was the main thing that turned her mommy into such a
(hitch?)