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"
Okay
,
Mom
!
Coming
,
Mother
!
"
And
again
:
"
Hi
,
Mom
!
Coming
,
Mom
!
"
And
then
the
quick
scuttering
of
tennis
shoes
padding
down
through
the
pit
of
the
ravine
as
three
kids
came
dashing
,
giggling
.
His
brother
Douglas
,
Chuck
Woodman
,
and
John
Huff
.
Running
,
giggling
.
.
.
The
stars
sucked
up
like
the
stung
antennae
of
ten
million
snails
.
The
crickets
sang
!
The
darkness
pulled
back
,
startled
,
shocked
,
angry
.
Pulled
back
,
losing
its
appetite
at
being
so
rudely
interrupted
as
it
prepared
to
feed
.
As
the
dark
retreated
like
a
wave
on
the
shore
,
three
children
piled
out
of
it
,
laughing
.
"
Hi
,
Mom
!
Hi
,
Tom
!
Hey
!
"
It
smelled
like
Douglas
,
all
right
.
Sweat
and
grass
and
the
odor
of
trees
and
branches
and
the
creek
about
him
.
"
Young
man
,
you
’
re
going
to
get
a
licking
,
"
declared
Mother
.
She
put
away
her
fear
instantly
.
Tom
knew
she
would
never
tell
anyone
of
it
,
ever
.
It
would
be
in
her
heart
,
though
,
for
all
time
,
as
it
was
in
his
heart
for
all
time
.
They
walked
home
to
bed
in
the
late
summer
night
.
He
was
glad
Douglas
was
alive
.
Very
glad
.
For
a
moment
there
he
had
thought
—
