but he glanced at Jess and closed his mouth. When they pulled up at his house, his father sat quietly,
and Jess could feel the man's uncertainty, so he opened the door and got out,
and with the numbness flooding through him, went in and lay down on his bed.
He was awake, jerked suddenly into consciousness in the black stillness of the house.
He sat up, stiff and shivering, although he was fully dressed from his windbreaker down to his sneakers.
He could hear the breathing of the little girls in the next bed, strangely loud and uneven in the quiet.
Some dream must have awakened him, but he could not remember it. He could only remember the mood of dread it had brought with it.
Through the curtainless window he could see the lopsided moon with hundreds of stars dancing in bright attendance.
It came into his mind that someone had told him that Leslie was dead. But he knew now that that had been part of the dreadful dream.
Leslie could not die any more than he himself could die.
But the words turned over uneasily in his mind like leaves stirred up by a cold wind.
If he got up now and went down to the old Perkins place and knocked on the door, Leslie would come to open it,
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