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"
It
’
s
the
hotel
,
"
Danny
said
.
"
It
’
s
the
hotel
.
I
remember
.
"
But
he
looked
back
over
his
shoulder
and
his
face
was
crumpled
and
terrified
.
It
was
three
in
the
afternoon
of
a
long
,
long
day
.
They
were
sitting
on
the
big
bed
in
their
quarters
.
Danny
was
turning
the
purple
VW
model
with
the
monster
sticking
out
of
the
sun
roof
over
and
over
in
his
hands
,
compulsively
.
They
had
heard
Daddy
’
s
batterings
at
the
door
all
the
way
across
the
lobby
,
the
batterings
and
his
voice
,
hoarse
and
petulantly
angry
in
a
weak
-
king
sort
of
a
way
,
vomiting
promises
of
punishment
,
vomiting
profanity
,
promising
both
of
them
that
they
would
live
to
regret
betraying
him
after
he
had
slaved
his
guts
out
for
them
over
the
years
.
Danny
thought
they
would
no
longer
be
able
to
hear
it
upstairs
,
but
the
sounds
of
his
rage
carried
perfectly
up
the
dumb
-
waiter
shaft
:
Mommy
’
s
face
was
pale
,
and
there
were
horrible
brownish
bruises
on
her
neck
where
Daddy
had
tried
to
…
He
turned
the
model
over
and
over
in
his
hands
,
Daddy
’
s
prize
for
having
learned
his
reading
lessons
.
(
…
where
Daddy
had
tried
to
hug
her
too
tight
.
)
Mommy
put
some
of
her
music
on
the
little
record
player
,
scratchy
and
full
of
horns
and
flutes
.
She
smiled
at
him
tiredly
.
He
tried
to
smile
back
and
failed
.
Even
with
the
volume
turned
up
loud
he
thought
he
could
still
hear
Daddy
screaming
at
them
and
battering
the
pantry
door
like
an
animal
in
a
zoo
cage
:
What
if
Daddy
had
to
go
to
the
bathroom
?
What
would
he
do
then
?
Danny
began
to
cry
.
Wendy
turned
the
volume
down
on
the
record
player
at
once
,
held
him
,
rocked
him
on
her
lap
.
