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Danny
had
stepped
forward
to
look
more
closely
at
this
marvel
and
then
he
was
falling
again
,
this
time
out
of
the
back
-
yard
swing
,
where
he
had
been
sitting
all
along
.
He
had
gotten
the
wind
knocked
out
of
himself
,
too
.
Three
or
four
days
later
his
daddy
had
been
stomping
around
,
telling
Mommy
furiously
that
he
had
been
all
over
the
goddam
basement
and
the
trunk
wasn
’
t
there
and
he
was
going
to
sue
the
goddam
movers
who
had
left
it
somewhere
between
Vermont
and
Colorado
.
How
was
he
supposed
to
be
able
to
finish
"
THE
PLAY
"
if
things
like
this
kept
cropping
up
?
Danny
said
,
"
No
,
Daddy
.
It
’
s
under
the
stairs
.
The
movers
put
it
right
under
the
stairs
.
"
Daddy
had
given
him
a
strange
look
and
had
gone
down
to
see
.
The
trunk
had
been
there
,
just
where
Tony
had
shown
him
.
Daddy
had
taken
him
aside
,
had
sat
him
on
his
lap
,
and
had
asked
Danny
who
let
him
down
cellar
.
Had
it
been
Tom
from
upstairs
?
The
cellar
was
dangerous
,
Daddy
said
.
That
was
why
the
landlord
kept
it
locked
.
If
someone
was
leaving
it
unlocked
,
Daddy
wanted
to
know
.
He
was
glad
to
have
his
papers
and
his
"
PLAY
"
but
it
wouldn
’
t
be
worth
it
to
him
,
he
said
,
if
Danny
fell
down
the
stairs
and
broke
his
…
his
leg
.
Danny
told
his
father
earnestly
that
he
hadn
’
t
been
down
in
the
cellar
.
That
door
was
always
locked
.
And
Mommy
agreed
.
Danny
never
went
down
in
the
back
hall
,
she
said
,
because
it
was
damp
and
dark
and
spidery
.
And
he
didn
’
t
tell
lies
.
"
Then
bow
did
you
know
,
doc
?
"
Daddy
asked
.
"
Tony
showed
me
.
"
His
mother
and
father
had
exchanged
a
look
over
his
head
.
This
had
happened
before
,
from
time
to
time
.
Because
it
was
frightening
,
they
swept
it
quickly
from
their
minds
.
But
be
knew
they
worried
about
Tony
,
Mommy
especially
,
and
he
was
careful
about
thinking
the
way
that
could
make
Tony
come
where
she
might
see
.
But
now
he
thought
she
was
lying
down
,
not
moving
about
in
the
kitchen
yet
,
and
so
he
concentrated
hard
to
see
if
he
could
understand
what
Daddy
was
thinking
about
.
His
brow
furrowed
and
his
slightly
grimy
hands
clenched
into
tight
fists
on
his
jeans
.
He
did
not
close
his
eyes
-
that
wasn
’
t
necessary
-
but
he
squinched
them
down
to
slits
and
imagined
Daddy
’
s
voice
,
Jack
’
s
voice
,
John
Daniel
Torrance
’
s
voice
,
deep
and
steady
,
sometimes
quirking
up
with
amusement
or
deepening
even
more
with
anger
or
just
staying
steady
because
he
was
thinking
.
Thinking
of
.
Thinking
about
.
Thinking
…
(
thinking
)
