Page 37 (1/2)

1st Stanza: Beamquake

One

"How long will the ic stay?"

At first no one answered Roland's question, and so he asked it again, this ti room of the rectory to where Henchick of the Manni sat with Cantab, who had hters The twohands, as was the Manni way The older rieved, the emotion did not show on his stony, composed face

Next to Roland, holding no one's hand, silent and dreadfully white, sat Eddie Dean Beside hied on the floor, was Jake Cha Roland had never seen before and would not have believed the billy-bumbler would allow Both Eddie and Jake were splattered with blood That on Jake's shirt belonged to his friend Benny Slightaret of Redpath, the lost granddaughter of the old patriarch Both Eddie and Jake looked as tired as Roland felt, but he was quite sure there would be no rest for theht Distant, fro and celebration

There was no celebration here Benny and Margaret were dead, and Susannah was gone

"Henchick, tell ic stay?"

The old er - Roland - I can't say The ic of the door in that cave is beyond me As thee must know "

"Tell me what you think Based on what youdo know "

Eddie raised his hands They were dirty, there was blood under the nails, and they tre in a voice, humble and lost, that Roland had never heard before "Tell, I beg "

Rosalita, Pere Callahan's woman of all work, came in with a tray There were cups on it, and a carafe of steae out of her bloody, dusty jeans and shirt and into a housedress, but her eyes were still shocked They peered from her face like small animals from their burrows She poured the coffee and passed the cups without speaking Nor had she gotten all the blood, Roland saw as he took one of the cups There was a streak of it on the back of her right hand Margaret's or Benny's? He didn't know Or ht not cois That was ka's business Theirs was Susannah Dean, who had disappeared in the after Black Thirteen with her

Henchick said: "Ye ask of kaven?"

"Aye, father," Roland agreed "The persistence of ic "

Father Callahan took a cup of coffee with a nod and a distracted smile, but no word of thanks He had spoken little since they'd come back from the cave In his lap was a book called'Salem's Lot, by a man of whom he had never heard It purported to be a work of fiction, but he, Donald Callahan, was in it He had lived in the town of which it told, had taken part in the events it recounted He had looked on the back and on the rear flap for the author's photograph, queerly certain that he would see a version of his own face looking back at him (the way he'd looked in 1975, when these events had taken place, most likely), but there had been no picture, just a note about the book's writer that told very little He lived in the state of Maine He was married He'd written one previous book, quite well reviewed, if you believed the quotations on the back

"The greater the er it persists," Cantab said, and then looked at Henchick questioningly

"Aye," Henchick said "Magic and glammer, both are one, and they do unroll from the back " He paused "From the past, do'ee ken "

"This door opened on many places and many times in the world ain, but just on the last two The most recent two Can that be done?"

They waited as Henchick and Cantab considered The Manni were great travelers If anyone knew, if anyone could do what Roland wanted - what they all wanted - it would be these folk

Cantab leaned deferentially toward the old man, the dinh of Calla Redpath He whispered Henchick listened, his face expressionless, then turned Cantab's head with one gnarled old hand and whispered back

Eddie shifted, and Roland felt hi He put a restraining hand on Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie subsided For the ti, at least

The whispered consultation went on for perhaps five minutes while the others waited The sounds of celebration in the distance were difficult for Roland to take; God kne they must make Eddie feel

At last Henchick patted Cantab's cheek with his hand and turned to Roland

"We think this may be done," he said

"Thank God," Eddie o up there We can meet you on the East Road - "

Both of the beardedtheir heads, Henchick with a kind of stern sorrow, Cantab with a look that was almost horror