Steve’s reply was almost inaudible. “I think I know.”
Tangina remained unconcerned with the why. “It is not important. What is important is the
fact
of these souls. They are not part of consciousness, as we know it. They linger in a perpetual dream state . . . a nightmare from which they cannot awaken. They live in the dream . . . they
are
the dream. Some people, some of us here—I, for one; your daughter, for another—can see them in
our
dreams. The dreams in which these souls exist are seen by some of us . . . as dreams. Your daughter and I, we were having the same dreams—and now she is lost in it, and we must get her back out.”
“Yes, yes, please . . .”
“So.” Tangina held up her hand for silence. “Inside this spectral light, this light which has been obfuscated for these wretched dream-wanderers, inside this light is salvation—a window to the next plane. There are other windows, in and out, to other planes, and these windows can admit all manner of creature, bright and dark—”
“We saw some of them last night,” Ryan interjected excitedly. He was enthralled by this—a coherent explanation of a totally hallucinogenic, but somehow natural, reality. It simply took his breath.
Tangina nodded gravely. “Fantabel and Sceädu emerged into our earthly plane, I have been told. They inhabit their own worlds, and venture sometimes to the spirit-world of wandering souls. But they should not have come to our dimension. It was a danger to them and to us, and I have no doubt they were goaded on by one I will speak of shortly. Windows such as these are not to be crossed lightly. The spectral light is such a window. This membrane must be crossed by the lost souls—on its other side, friends will guide them to their destinies. Carol Anne can help them to find this light. If she goes to the light, they will follow her.”
“No . . .”
“No, she mustn’t go in herself. But that is for you to tell her, Diane. She listened to me for a moment, an hour—but only the love that binds the two of you can hold her exactly where she must be. Where, and when.”
“I’ll do whatever you ask.”
“Well, hold on, dear people, there’s one thing more. A terrible presence is in there with her. So much rage . . . so much betrayal . . . I’ve rarely sensed anything like it. It was strong enough to punch a hole into this world, and take your daughter from you. It keeps Carol Anne very close to it, and away from the spectral light. It uses her to restrain and distract the others, and to draw them away from the light, so they cannot escape his domain. It uses her, and lies to her. It says things only a child can understand. She fears it, but she fears to wander too far from it, for it’s the only one who can speak to her, and who knows her secret language. It is the Beast. It sought her from the very beginning.” Tangina cupped Diane’s face in her hands and brought it close to her own. “Let’s get on our feet and go get your daughter.”
Diane laughed with tears, and rose. Tangina likewise started to rise, then looked down. “Oh! I
am
on my feet.”
It was well after midnight before they’d collected all the things Tangina had instructed them to collect. She stood in the center of the living room floor, now, inventorying the lot.
“Towels, red ribbons, lipstick, numbered tennis balls . . . where’s the rope?”
Steve came trudging in with several pounds of rope strung over his shoulder. “It’s all I could find.”
The television sets were all on to snow. Long lengths of string were taped to the walls, then tied to shorter crosspieces in the middle of the room to form a suspended square of string around the area from which all the artifacts had been materializing.
Tangina looked up at Steve. “It’ll do. How’s the bath water?”
“Tub’s full. I just shut it off.”
“Then we might as well get started.” She winked at Dr. Lesh. “My equipment just has fewer moving parts than yours, that’s all.” Then, to Diane: “All right, child. Call your daughter.”
Diane walked to the middle of the room and stood there as if waiting to audition. Tangina nodded her on. Diane took a deep breath. “Carol Anne . . . Carol Anne . . . it’s Mommy. Can you hear me, baby?”
Static. Blue-white light, and the hollow hiss of electrons.
“Carol Anne. Can you tell Mommy hello?”
Nothing. The air felt dense with vacuum. Diane wanted to crawl out of her skin, or scream. Tangina closed her eyes, began breathing rapidly. Her eyelids fluttered. From far away, she spoke to Diane.
“Try again.”
Diane clenched her fists. “Can you say hello to Daddy, baby? Daddy and I miss you so much. So much. We love you so much. Can you say hello?”
Tangina began sweating. Slowly, she shook her head. “She’s under restraint!”
Steve and Diane jumped as if stung by the same prod. “What do you mean?” yelled Diane.
“Who’s restraining her? Tell us what’s going on!”
Tangina opened her eyes, her face flushed, her lips parched. “There are many arms around her; she thinks it’s safe. Quickly! Who is she more afraid of? You or your husband?”
Diane shook her head wildly. “She’s afraid of neither.” She almost burst out crying, terrified that this was the wrong answer.
“Which of you does she answer to first?” Tangina pressed sternly.
“She’s always gone to Diane,” said Steve. He rubbed his hands on his pants, trying to wipe off the fear.
“When she’s naughty, who does she hide from?”
“She’s a well-behaved child,” Steve protested indignantly. “We’ve raised her with manners and . . .”
“Look, I’m not from the welfare service; I need a quick answer!”
“Steve decides the punishment,” came Diane’s reply. “The children have always known that . . .”
“Now wait a minute, Diane, I don’t think that’s fair exactly. I’ve never laid a hand on . . .”
Tangina waved them quiet impatiently. “Fight about it later! Right now come stand beside me!” It was an urgent whisper.
Steve obeyed instantly.
Dr. Lesh watched in utter amazement—she’d never seen anything like this before. Ryan, too, could barely keep his eyes on the instruments.
Tangina ordered Steve: “Tell Carol Anne to answer!”
Steve looked around, uncertain where to address his statements.
“Tell her!” barked Tangina.
Steve spoke softly, almost politely. “Honey, it’s Daddy. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”
“I said call her. Loud!”
“Carol Anne.” Steve talked in his normal speaking voice now. “Carol Anne, it’s Daddy.”
“Again,” muttered Tangina. Her eyelids were drooping once more, her expression glazing over.
“It’s Daddy, sweetheart. Answer me.”
“Be cross with her,” Tangina said.
“Why?”
“Be angry with her, or you’ll never see her again!” the psychic commanded.
Steve spoke more harshly now, aroused, upset. “Carol Anne, this is your father speaking.”
“Tell her if she doesn’t answer she’s, in big trouble.”
“Answer me right now, young lady, or you’re in real hot water!”
“Tell her she’ll get spanked.”
Steve lowered his voice confidentially. “We never spank the children.”
Diane screamed in frustration. “Goddamit, Steven, tell her!”
Steve twisted up his mouth. “If you don’t answer your parents this instant, you’re going to get a real spanking! From both of us!”
“Swear. Swear!” rasped Tangina.
“Dammit, Carol Anne! Do you hear me!?”
From far away, a voice: “Mommy! Mommy, help me!”
Tangina’s respirations were fast and hard, now. Perspiration beaded her forehead, but she smiled grimly. “She’s away from him!”
“Away from who?” begged Diane. “That thing we saw? Did that thing have my baby!? Is she all right?”
Tangina ignored the question. Her eyes were closed, and she puffed like a sprinter. “Diane. Ask her if she sees a light.”
“Carol Anne! Do you see a light?”
The small voice in the television grew louder. “Mommy! He’s chasing me!” The edge of terror cut the air. “Mommy!” the voice screamed.
“Tell her to run to the light!” Tangina ordered urgently.
Diane looked fearfully at Dr. Lesh. “No!”
Tangina’s hair was down, now; she was panting laboriously. “He will follow her to it. He’s been following her for weeks. They will all follow her. You must tell her what I say!”
Lesh was totally wrapped up in the scene, and trusted Tangina implicitly by this time. “Tell her. Go ahead, Diane, tell her as Tangina says.”
The cry burst from her like gas under pressure. “Run, Carol Anne, run! Run for the light! Run as fast as you can!”
“Mommy! Where are you?”
“I’m here, baby; I’m here!” Diane’s nose and eyes were running; her voice was thick.
“Tell her you’re in the light!” Tangina was getting hoarse.
“No, that’s a lie!” Diane choked.
“You can’t choose between life and death when we’re dealing with what is in between!” Tangina barked. “Tell her, before it’s too late!!”
“Run to the light, Carol Anne!” Diane screamed. “Mommy is in the light! I’m here in the light, baby; come to me!”
“Tell her again. Hurry. Tell her you’re waiting for her.”
Diane was almost strangling on sobs of impotence, frustration, anger, deceit. “Mommy is in the light waiting for you, baby! Please, come to Mommy!” She cried and cried, then wheeled harshly on Tangina and whispered savagely: “I hate you for this!”
Tangina winced, but didn’t reply. Instead, she spoke to the group. “Quick, upstairs, everyone! And bring everything.”
The five of them raced up the steps to the second-floor landing. Everyone crowded around the door to the kids’ room. Tangina turned to them, her breathing hoarse.
“Clear your minds. It knows what scares you. It has from the beginning. Don’t give it any help. It knows too much already. Now . . . open the door.”
Without hesitation, Steve put the key in the lock and turned it. The door swung open easily. Inside, it was like a storm at sea.
A wall of wind and sound blasted through the door—the sounds of moaning and raving, a cacophony of madness and nonsense. The wind, a living blizzard. It made the whole house reverberate.
Tangina crawled in against the gale—but it was not only a storm of wind and tormented noise she braved. Light, too, poured from the room.
Once inside, she was able to stand, for the wind was slightly less violent than it had been directly in front of the door. Even so, she had to squint against the swirling dust and particulate matter . . . and against the light.
The light emanated from the closet—so bright, it was impossible to look into, brighter than the sun, than ten suns exploding. Blue-yellow shards of light stabbed at her face, burned her skin, spilled into the thick atmosphere of the room.
She screamed out into the hall: “Ryan! Get downstairs! Wait by the target!” He couldn’t hear her at first, over the din. She yelled louder—her voice was beginning to give out—and he ran downstairs.
Steve crawled into the room next, and stood beside Tangina. Even standing two feet away, she had to yell to be heard. “Steven! Give me the tennis ball marked number one! Diane! Stay in the hall and relay messages to Ryan! Tell him to stand under the circle of string!”
Diane shouted the message downstairs. Ryan shouted up that he was in position. Lesh remained with Diane.
Tangina closed her eyes and tossed the tennis ball into the furnace light of the closet. The raging wind bellowed, and tried to hurl her to the floor. She held onto Steve’s arm.
“Ask Ryan if he sees anything!” shouted Tangina. Diane relayed the question.
“Nothing!” Ryan yelled back.
Tangina put her mouth to Steve’s ear. “Throw number two into the closet as hard as you can!”
Steve crawled as close to the closet as he dared, aimed into the light through closed eyes, and sent his meanest fast-ball zinging into the hole.
Downstairs, Ryan sat staring intensely at the hanging circle of string. Suddenly there was a popping flash of light, and a tennis ball hit him on the head. He picked it up off the floor and examined it. Number two.
“Tennis ball number two!” he shouted. “Came right out of the fuckin’ air!”
Diane shouted the news into the blizzard. Tangina indicated to Steve to repeat the performance with number three, which he did, with all his strength.
A moment later, tennis ball number three fell out of another mid-air flash, and Ryan called up the information.
Diane screamed it into the bedroom: “Three came back! Number Three is back, too!”
Tangina grinned, tight lipped, into the typhoon. “Now! Tie the red ribbon at the center of the rope! Hurry!”
Frantically, Steve began performing his instructed task. Once again Tangina closed her eyes. She hyperventilated, became rigid, slumped to the floor, left her body.
She had discovered a new way back after her struggle with gHalâ. Quite by accident. He’d expelled her violently, and she’d floated very briefly in inky isolation, and then suddenly dropped with a warm wind through an unseen window . . . into her body. Many ways in, and many ways out, for those with sight.
She found the way quickly, now—it was an oscillating membrane of gill-like flaps—and entered directly into the void she sought. Black, first, becoming black-red. That was disturbing. It had never been anything but black or clear before.
Gradually, all around her was red light. Apparitions floated by in the deathly quiet: old men, children, weeping dreamers, weeping dreams. Tangina hovered below the stream, sensing her way, avoiding the smell of gHalâ, seeking the light. She peered between the mists, around corners created by warps in the ether, inside tunnels tracking to other planes . . . there. She saw it. Under a distortion in the void, a buckling of the ether-substance that formed a well, so it was almost impossible to see unless you were right on top of it. The light.
Phantoms maundered in the middle distance. Tangina hovered nearer the light. There. She saw her standing, quivering, near the mouth of the spectral opening: the girl. She was beginning to stray into the well.
With a terrible jolt, Tangina shot back through the membranous gill-slits—and wrenched her self back to herself. Into the storming bedroom again. At the moment of recorporation, the wind rolled her body across the floor, toward the closet. Steve reached out and grabbed her at the last second, just before she was sucked into the blinding closet door.