Then a black rose began to bloom in front of her eyes and the last of her strength left her legs. Sammy felt it go, running out of her muscles like water. She went down, holding onto one final thought: On your side, on your side, don't squash the baby!
That much she managed. She lay sprawled on the shoulder of Motton Road, unmoving in the hazyjuly-ish sun. Little Walter awoke and began to cry. He tried to struggle out of the Papoose and couldn't; Sammy had snapped him in carefully, and he was pinned. Little Walter began to cry harder. A fly settled on his forehead, sampled the blood oozing through the cartoon images of SpongeBob and Patrick, then flew off. Possibly to report this taste-treat at Fly HQ and summon reinforcements.
Grasshoppers reeee'd in the grass.
The town whistle honked.
Little Walter, trapped with his unconscious mother, wailed for a while in the heat, then gave up and lay silent, looking around listlessly as sweat rolled out of his fine hair in large clear drops.
6
Standing beside the Globe Theater's boarded-up box office and under its sagging marquee (the Globe had gone out of business five years before), Barbie had a good view of both the Town Hall and the police station. His good buddy junior was sitting on the cop-shop steps, massaging his temples as if the rhythmic whoop of the whistle hurt his head.
Al Timmons came out of the Town Hall and jogged down to the street. He was wearing his gray janitor's fatigues, but there was a pair of binoculars hanging from a strap around his neck and an Indian pump on his back - empty of water, from the ease with which he was carrying it. Barbie guessed Al had blown the fire whistle.
Get away, Al, Barbie thought. How about it?
Half a dozen trucks rolled up the street. The first two were pickups, the third a panel job. All three lead vehicles were painted a yellow so bright it almost screamed. The pickups had BURPEE'S DEPARTMENT STORE decaled on the doors. The panel truck's box bore the legendary slogan MEET ME FOR SLURPEE'S AT BURPEE'S. Romeo himself was in the lead truck. His hair was its usual Daddy Cool marvel of sweeps and spirals. Brenda Perkins was riding shotgun. In the pickup's bed were shovels, hoses, and a brand-new sump pump still plastered with the manufacturer's stickers.
Romeo stopped beside Al Timmons. 'Jump in the back, partner,' he said, and Al did. Barbie withdrew as far as he could into the shadow of the deserted theater's marquee. He didn't want to be drafted to help fight the fire out on Little Bitch Road; he had business right here in town.
Junior hadn't moved from the PD steps, but he was still rubbing his temples and holding his head. Barbie waited for the trucks to disappear, then hurried across the street. Junior didn't look up, and a moment later he was hidden from Barbie's view by the ivy-covered bulk of the Town Hall.
Barbie went up the steps and paused to read the sign on the message board: TOWN MEETING THURSDAY 7 p.m. IF CRISIS IS NOT RESOLVED. He thought of Julia saying Until you've heard Big Jim Rennie's stump speech, don't sell him short. He might get a chance Thursday night; certainly Rennie would make his pitch to stay in control of the situation.
And for more power, Julia's voice spoke up in his head. He'll want that, too, of course. For the good of the town.
The Town Hall had been built of quarried stone a hundred and sixty years before, and the vestibule was cool and dim. The generator was off; no need to run it with no one here.
Except someone was, in the main meeting hall. Barbie heard voices, two of them, belonging to children. The tall oak doors were standing ajar. He looked in and saw a skinny man with a lot of graying hair sitting up front at the selectmen's table. Opposite him was a pretty little girl of about ten. They had a checkerboard between them; the longhair had his chin propped on one hand, studying his next move. Down below, in the aisle between the benches, a young woman was playing leapfrog with a boy of four or five. The checker players were studious; the young woman and the boy were laughing.
Barbie started to withdraw, but too late. The young woman looked up. 'Hi? Hello?' She picked up the boy and came toward him. The checker players looked up, too. So much for stealth.
The young woman was holding out the hand she wasn't using to support the little boy's bottom.Tm Carolyn Sturges.That gentleman is my friend, Thurston Marshall. The little guy is Aidan Appleton. Say hi, Aidan.'
'Hi,' Aidan said in a small voice, and then plugged his thumb into his mouth. He looked at Barbie with eyes that were round and blue and mildly curious.
The girl ran up the aisle to stand beside Carolyn Sturges. The longhair followed more slowly. He looked tired and shaken.'I'm Alice Rachel Appleton,' she said. 'Aidan's big sister. Take your thumb out of your mouth, Aide.'
Aide didn't.
'Well, it's nice to meet all of you,' Barbie said. He didn't tell them his own name. In fact, he sort of wished he were wearing a fake mustache. But this still might be all right. He was almost positive these people were out-of-towners.