Page 16 (2/2)

I am Helen Driscoll

Sentas didn’t coe working on Richard’s wagon which needed new bolts and repainting I didn’t feel like doing it; I’d put it off for weeks But I couldn’t stay in the house I was afraid soht happen

I say "afraid" yet it was different somehow It was not for myself that I feared now It was Anne It didn’t take telepathy or anything approaching it for me to be fully aware of the state of her nerves She’d had more than her share of shocks that past week Even under normal conditions the death of her mother-to who with a h to break the sturdiest spirit That all this should have taken place during a period of pregnancy marked by extreme nervous tension had made it five times as bad I simply couldn’t tell her what I’d written down I was afraid to

While I painted the wagon I kept thinking about those words

I couldn’t inified That I had seen Helen Driscoll was one thing and, in the way Alan had put it, very explicable But to receive what appeared to be a -this went far beyond credulity

Yet, I was not so much alarmed for myself as for Anne For some reason (my visit to Alan, of course) I sensed a difference in one Being concerned for Anne, however, was quite enough I hoped, for her sake, there would be noin co either At least she wasn’t there when the first one occurred I’ll always be grateful for that

It was about ten e and told me that Richard was asleep and would I keep an eye on hiet a bobbin threaded in her sewing one, I went back in the house It was just dark I sat in the kitchen, the grocery pad in front ofit tentatively between ers As had been the case from the start of all this, curiosity was still an important factor I think you may understand that No matter what had happened, the interest was still there It was unavoidable

I had just decided to try the writing again when I heard a thump on the front door I started and put down the pencil quickly Then, thinking itand unable to open the door, I put the pencil into its little holder on the side of the pad and dropped the jaded and put upon

"Hello," I said

"Still clogged?" he asked brusquely

"Still" I stepped aside so he could come in He entered as if I were an intruder in his house; not its tenant

He went right into the bathrooan to fill up; it didn’t drain at all Sentas kept running the water, staring fixedly at its ood idea to turn it off now? I thought He didn’t He kept it running until the boas almost full Only then did he twist off the faucet

"Hmmm," he said He looked at the water He reached under its surface and tapped a big finger on the drain hole He looked disgusted

"Your ash her hair lately?" he asked

"I don’t know," I said

"Hair clogs it up," he said

"I see Well what are we going to do?"

He blew out a weary gust of breath "I can’t do anything now," he said You ht irritably

"I’ll call a plu," he said reluctantly

"Is it too late to get one now?" I asked

"Yeah" He started into the hall "I’ll call one in the " Which hen it happened; all the , because it followed so closely on the heels of our ed sink

"Sentas," we heard

Sentas froze So did I

"Sentas Harry Sentas," said the voice

I felt

"You know me, Harry Sentas"

It was the voice of my two-year-old son

Yet not his voice It came from his vocal cords, yes, but it was another’s voice Have you ever seen avoices, supposedly through the ied dolls? It was like that; like the voice of a du in the distorted falsetto of its ventriloquist master

"You know ed breath His face was blank, losing colour

"What the hell is this?" he asked in a treuttural voice

I openedcame out

"You know me, Harry Sentas," said my son, said the voice "My name is Helen Driscoll" Sentas and I both jolted with shock at the same time He started for the bedroorotesque dance step He whirled on ed

"I swear to-" I muttered

"You know lared atroom floor

"Damn jokes," he snapped "Fix your own sink!"

The house shook with the crash of the slas; to the side of Richard’s crib I heard hi in the darkness

"Come back," he said in that hideous, doll voice "Co breath passed through hi on the sofa when Anne got back

I think she knew from the instant she saw me

"No," she said feebly, "oh, no" There was a sadness in her voice; a tired, capitulating sadness

"Anne, sit down," I said

"No"

"Honey, please Don’t run away fro, staring at me

"Sit down," I said "Please"

"No"

"Sit down"

She came over and sat on the other end of the sofa, perched on the edge of the cushion like a fearful but obedient child She gripped at her forear you this," I said, "because-well, if it happens to you and you haven’t been told, it an to cry

"Oh God help us," she sobbed "I thought it was over, I thought it was over"

"Honey, don’t"

She looked up, teeth clenched, a look aled on her face

"I can’t take htening for its softness " I can’t take much more/’

"Anne, etful instant I’d been about to suggest she go to herwas settled

"Maybe what?" she asked

"Nothing I-"

"Oh, are we going to have the s-secrets again?" she asked and I could tell froe she was "The little secrets?"

"Honey, listen," I begged "If we face this thing noe can-"

"Face it!" she exploded "What have I been doing! I’ve been living with it! Dying with it! I can’t stand any body against me

"Shhh, baby," I whispered futilely, "don’t It’ll be all right It’s different now, it’s different I’m not helpless anymore" The words seemed to flow out of me and, even as they did, I knew that they were true "I can control it now, Anne It can’t hurt us if we only face it Believe me, I’m not helpless anymore"

"Well, I a ti that time, I made a decision; a decision I knew had been inevitable It made sense to me now What ’I’d said to Anne was true I was sure of it I wasn’t a helpless pa

I was going to s work my way