The Anything Box Part 6

Dubby's face shadowed and then he grinned. "Okay."

June went back to the table, thankful that Dubby was a nice kid and notlike some of the brats she had met in her time. She twined both legs aroundthe legs of her chair, running both hands up through her hair. She pausedbefore tackling the next problem to glance in at Dubby. A worry tugged at herheart as she saw how pale and fine-drawn his features were. It seemed, every time she came over, he was more nearly transparent She s.h.i.+vered a little as she remembered her mother saying, "Poor child.He'll never have to worry about old age, Have you noticed his eyes, June? Hehas wisdom in them now that no child should have. He has looked too often into the Valley."

June sighed and turned to her work.

The heating system hummed softly and the out-of-joint day settled into acomfortable accustomed evening.

Mrs. Warren rarely ever left Dubby because he was ill so much of the time,and she practically never left him until he was settled for the night. b.u.t.today when June got home from school, her mother had told her to call Mrs.Warren.

"Oh, June," Mrs. Warren had appealed over the phone, "could you possiblycome over right now?"

"Now?" asked June, dismayed, thinking of her hair and nails she'd plannedto do, and the tentative date with Larryanne to hear her new alb.u.m.

"I hate to ask it," said Mrs. Warren. "I have no patience with people whomake last minute arrangements, but Mr. Warren's mother is very ill again andwe just have to go over to her house. We wouldn't trust Dubby with anyone butyou. He's got that nasty bronchitis again, so we can't take him with us. I'llget home as soon as I can, even if Orin has to stay. He's home from work rightnow, waiting for me. So please come, June!"

"Well," June melted to the tears in Mrs. Warren's voice. She could let herhair and nails and alb.u.m go and she could get her geometry done at theWarrens' place. "Well, okay. I'll be right over."

"Oh, bless you, child," cried Mrs. Warren. Her voice faded away from thephone. "Orin, she's coming-" and the receiver clicked.

"June!" He must have called several times before June began to swim back upthrough the gloomy haze of the new theorem.

"Joo-un!" Dubby's plaintive voice reached down to her and she sighed inexasperation. She had nearly figured out how to work the problem.

"Yes, Dubby." The exaggerated patience in her voice signaled herdispleasure to him.

"Well," he faltered, "I don't want to play-like anymore. I've used up allmy thinkings. Can I make something now? Something for true?"

"Without getting off the couch?" asked June cautiously, wise from pastexperience.

"Yes," grinned Dubby.

"Without my to-ing and fro-ing to bring you stuff?" she questioned, still wary.

"Uh-huh," giggled Dubby.

"What can you make for true without anything to make it with?" June askedskeptically.

Dubby laughed. "I just thought it up." Then all in one breath, unable torestrain his delight: "It's-really-kinda-like-play-like, but-I'mgoing-to-make-something-that-isn't-like-anything-real-so it'll-be-for-true,cause-it-won't-be-play-like-anything-that's-real!"

"Huh? Say that again," June challenged. "I bet you can't do it."

Dubby was squirming with excitement. He coughed tentatively, found itwasn't a prelude to a full production and said: "I can't say it again, but Ican do it, I betcha. Last time I was sick, I made up some new magic words.They're real good. I betcha they'll work real good like anything."

"Okay, go ahead and make something," said June. "Just so it's quiet."

"Oh, it's real quiet," said Dubby in a hushed voice. "Exter quiet. I'mgoing to make a Noise-eater."

"A Noise-eater?"

"Uh-huh!" Dubby's eyes were s.h.i.+ning. "It'll eat up all the noises. I canmake lotsa racket then, 'cause it'll eat it all up and make it real quiet for you so's you can do your jommety."

"Now that's right thunkful of you, podner," drawled June. "Make it a goodone, because little boys make a lot of noise."

"Okay." And Dubby finally calmed down and settled back against his pillows.

The heating system hummed. The old refrigerator in the kitchen cleared itsthroat and added its chirking throb to the voice of the house. The mantelclock locked firmly to itself in the front room. June was absorbed in herhomework when a flutter of movement at her elbow jerked her head up.

"Dubby!" she began indignantly.

"Shh!" Dubby pantomimed, finger to lips, his eyes wide with excitement. Heleaned against June, his fever radiating like a small stove through hispajamas and robe. His breath was heavy with the odor of illness as he put hismouth close to her ear and barely whispered.

"I made it. The Noise-eater. He's asleep now. Don't make a noise or he'llget you."

"I'll get you, too," said June. "Play-like is play-like, but you get rightback on that couch!"

"I'm too scared," breathed Dubby. "What if I cough?"

"You will cough if you-" June started in a normal tone, but Dubby threwhimself into her lap and m.u.f.fled her mouth with his small hot hand. He wastrembling.

"Don't! Don't!" he begged frantically. "I'm scared. How do youun-play-like? I didn't know it'd work so good!"

There was a choonk and a slither in the front room. June strained her ears,alarm stirring in her chest.

"Don't be silly," she whispered. "Play-like isn't for true. There's nothingin there to hurt you."

A sudden succession of musical pings startled June and threw Dubby backinto her arms until she recognized Mrs. Warren's bedroom clock striking seveno'clock-early as usual. There was a soft, drawn-out slither in the front roomand then silence.

"Go on, Dubby. Get back on the couch like a nice child. We've played longenough."

"You take me."

June herded him ahead of her, her knees b.u.mping his reluctant back at everystep until he got a good look at the whole front room. Then he sighed andrelaxed.

"He's gone," he said normally.

"Sure he is," replied June. "Play-like stuff always goes away." She tuckedhim under his covers. Then, as if hoping to brush his fears-and hers-away, bycalmly discussing it, "What did he look like?"

"Well, he had a body like Mother's vacuum cleaner -the one that lies downon the floor-and his legs were like my sled, so he could slide on the floor,and had a nose like the hose on the cleaner only he was able to make it longor short when he wanted to."

Dubby, overstrained, leaned back against his pillows.

The mantel clock began to boom the hour deliberately.

"And he had little eyes like the light inside the refrigerator-"

June heard a choonk at the hall door and glanced up. Then withfear-stiffened lips, she continued for him, "And ears like TV antennae becausehe needs good ears to find the noises." And watched, stunned, as the roundmetallic body glided across the floor on s.h.i.+ny runners and paused in front ofthe clock that was deliberating on the sixth stroke.

The long, wrinkly trunk-like nose on the front of the thing flashed upward.The end of it s.h.i.+mmered, then melted into the case of the clock. And theseventh stroke never began. There was a soft sucking sound and the nosedropped free. On the mantel, the hands of the clock dropped soundlessly to thebottom of the dial.

In the tight circle of June's arms, Dubby whimpered. June clapped her handover his mouth. But his shoulders began to shake and he rolled franticimploring eyes at her as another coughing spell began. He couldn't control it.

June tried to m.u.f.fle the sound with her shoulder, but over the deep,hawking convulsions, she heard the choonk and slither of the creature andscreamed as she felt it nudge her knee. Then the long snout nuzzled againsther shoulder and she heard a soft hiss as it touched the straining throat ofthe coughing child. She grabbed the horribly vibrating thing and tried to pullit away, but Dubby's cough cut off in mid-spasm.

In the sudden quiet that followed she heard a gurgle like a straw in thebottom of a soda gla.s.s and Dubby folded into himself like an empty laundrybag. June tried to straighten him against the pillows, but he slid laxly down.

June stood up slowly. Her dazed eyes wandered trance-like to the clock,then to the couch, then to the horrible thing that lay beside it. Its glowingeyes were blinking and its ears s.h.i.+fting planes-probably to locate sound.

Her mouth opened to let out the terror that was constricting her lungs, andher frantic scream coincided with the shrill clamor of the telephone. TheEater hesitated, then slid swiftly toward the repeated ring. In the pauseafter the party line's four identifying rings, it stopped and June clappedboth hands over her mouth, her eyes dilated with paralyzed terror.

The ring began again. June caught Dubby up into her arms and backed slowlytoward the front door. The Eater's snout darted out to the telephone and thering stilled without even an after-resonance.

The latch of the front door gave a rasping click under June's tremblinghand. Behind her, she heard the choonk and horrible slither as the Eater lostinterest in the silenced telephone. She whirled away from the door, staggeringoff balance under the limp load of Dubby's body. She slipped to one knee,spilling the child to the floor with a thump. The Eater slid toward her,pausing at the hall door, its ears tilting and moving.

June crouched on her knees, staring, one hand caught under Dubby. Sheswallowed convulsively, then cautiously withdrew her hand. She touched Dubby'sbony little chest. There was no movement. She hesitated indecisively, thenbacked away, eyes intent on the Eater.

Her heart drummed in her burning throat. Her blood roared in her ears. Thestarchy krunkle of her wide skirt rattled in the stillness. The fibers of therug murmured under her knees and toes. She circled wider, wider, the noiseonly loud enough to hold the Eater's attention-not to attract him to her. Shebacked guardedly into the corner by the radio. Calculatingly, she reached overand clicked it on, turning the volume dial as far as it would go.

The Eater slid tentatively toward her at the click of the switch. Junebacked slowly away, eyes intent on the creature. The sudden insane blare ofthe radio hit her an almost physical blow. The Eater glided up close againstthe vibrating cabinet, its snout lifting and drinking in the horriblecacophony of sound.

June lurched for the front door, wrenching frantically at the door k.n.o.b.She stumbled outside, slamming the door behind her. Trembling, she sank to thetop step, wiping the cold sweat from her face with the under side of herskirt. She s.h.i.+vered in the sharp cold, listening to the raucous outpouringfrom the radio that boomed so loud it was no longer intelligible.

She dragged herself to her feet, pausing irresolutely, looking around atthe huddled houses, each set on its own acre of weeds and lawn. They were alldark in the early winter evening.

June gave a little moan and sank on the step again, hugging herselfdesperately against the penetrating chill. It seemed an eternity that shecrouched there before the radio cut off in mid-note.

Fearfully, she roused and pressed her face to one of the door panes. Dimlythrough the gla.s.s curtains she could see the Eater, sluggish and swollen,lying quietly by the radio. Hysteria was rising for a moment, but sheresolutely knuckled the tears from her eyes.

The headlights scythed around the corner, glittering swiftly across theblank windows next door as the car crunched into the Warrens' driveway andcame to a gravel-skittering stop.

June pressed her hands to her mouth, sure that even through the closed doorshe could hear the choonk and slither of the thing inside as it slid to andfro, seeking sound.

The car door slammed and hurried footsteps echoed along the path. June madewild shus.h.i.+ng motions with her hands as Mrs. Warren scurried around the cornerof the house.

"June!" Mrs. Warren's voice was ragged with worry. "Is Dubby all right?What are you doing out here? What's wrong with the phone?" She fumbled for thedoor k.n.o.b.

"No, no!" June shouldered her roughly aside. "Don't go in! It'll get you,too!"

She heard a thud just inside the door. Dimly through the gla.s.s she saw theflicker of movement as the snout of the Eater raised and wavered toward them.

"June!" Mrs. Warren jerked her away from the door. "Let me in! What's thematter? Have you gone crazy?" Mrs. Warren stopped suddenly, her facewhitening. "What have you done to Dubby, June?"

The girl gulped with the shock of the accusation. "I haven't done anything,Mrs. Warren. He made a Noise-eater and it-it-" June winced away from thesudden blaze of Mrs. Warren's eyes.

"Get away from that door!" Mrs. Warren's face was that of a stranger, herwords icy and clipped. "I trusted you with my child. If anything has happenedto him-"

"Don't go in-oh, don't go in!" June grabbed at her coat hysterically."Please, please wait! Let's get-"

"Let go!" Mrs. Warren's voice grated between her tightly clenched teeth."Let me go, you-you-" Her hand flashed out and the crack of her palm againstJune's cheek was echoed by a choonk inside the house. June was staggered bythe blow, but she clung to the coat until Mrs. Warren pushed her sprawlingdown the front steps and fumbled at the k.n.o.b, crying, "Dubby! Dubby!"

June, scrambling up the steps on hands and knees, caught a glimpse of ahovering something that lifted and swayed like a waiting cobra. It was slappedaside by the violent opening of the door as Mrs. Warren stumbled into thehouse, her cries suddenly stilling on her slack lips as she saw her crumpledson by the couch.

She gasped and whispered, "Dubby!" She lifted him into her arms. His headrolled loosely against her shoulder. Her protesting, "No, no, no!" merged intohalf-articulate screams as she hugged him to her.

And from behind the front door there was a choonk and a slither.

June lunged forward and grabbed the reaching thing that was homing in onMrs. Warren's hysterical grief. Her hands closed around it convulsively, herwhole weight dragging backward, but it had a strength she couldn't match.Desperately then, her fists clenched, her eyes tight shut, she screamed andscreamed and screamed.

The snout looped almost lazily around her straining throat, but she foughther way almost to the front door before the thing held her, feet on the floor,body at an impossible angle and stilled her frantic screams, quieted herstraining lungs and sipped the last of her heartbeats, and let her drop.

Mrs. Warren stared incredulously at June's crumpled body and the horriblecreature that blinked its lights and s.h.i.+fted its antennae questingly. With am.u.f.fled gasp, she sagged, knees and waist and neck, and fell soundlessly tothe floor.

The refrigerator in the kitchen cleared its throat and the Eater turnedfrom June with a choonk and slid away, crossing to the kitchen.

The Eater retracted its snout and slid back from the refrigerator. It layquietly, its ears s.h.i.+fting from quarter to quarter.

The thermostat in the dining room clicked and the hot air furnace began tohum. The Eater slid to the wall under the register that was set just below the ceiling. Its snout extended and lifted and narrowed until the end of itslipped through one of the register openings. The furnace hum choked offabruptly and the snout end flipped back into sight.

Then there was quiet, deep and unbroken until the Eater tilted its ears andslid up to Mrs. Warren.

In such silence, even a pulse was noise.

There was a sound like a straw in the bottom of a soda gla.s.s.

A stillness was broken by the shrilling of a siren on the main highway fourblocks away.

A choonk and a slither and the metallic b.u.mp of runners down the threefront steps.

And a quiet, quiet house on a quiet side street.

Hush.

Food to All Flesh

O give thanks unto the LORD . . . who giveth food to all flesh: for his mercyendureth for ever. Psalm 136 Padre Manuel sighed with pleasure as he stepped into the heavy shade of thesalt cedars. It was a welcome relief from the downpouring sun that drenchedthe whole valley and seemed today to press down especially hard on the littleadobe church and its cl.u.s.ter of smaller buildings. Padre Manuel sighed againwith regret that they could manage so little greenery around the church, but.i.t was above the irrigation ca.n.a.l, huddled against the foot of the bleakEstrellas.

But it was pleasant here in the shade at the foot of the alfalfa field, andacross the pasture was the old fig tree with the mourning dove nest that PadreManuel had been watching.

Well! Padre Manuel let the leaves conceal the nest again. Two eggs now! Andsoon the little birds-little live things. How long did it take? He sat down inthe gra.s.s at the foot of the hill, grateful for this leisure time. He openedhis breviary, his lips moving silently as the pages turned.

And so it was that Padre Manuel was in the south pasture when the thingcame down. It sagged and rippled as if it were made of something soft insteadof metal as you'd expect a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p to be. Because that's what Padre Manuel,after his first blank amazement, figured it must be.

It didn't act like a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p, though. At least not like the ones thatwere in the comics that Sor Concepcion brought, clucking disapprovingly, tohim when she confiscated them from the big boys who found them so much moreinteresting than the catechism cla.s.s on drowsy summer afternoons. There was n.o.burned gra.s.s, no big noise, none of the signs of radiation that made the comicpages so vivid that, most regrettably, Padre Manuel usually managed a quickread-through before restoring them at the day's end. The thing just flutteredon the gra.s.s and scooted ahead of a gust of wind until it came up against atree.

Padre Manuel waited to see what would happen. That was his way. If anythingnew came along, he'd sit for a while, figuring it all out-but slowly,carefully- and usually he came out right. This time, when he had finishedthinking it over, he got a thrill up and down his back, knowing that G.o.d hadseen fit to let him be the first man on earth to see a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p land. Atleast the first to land in this quiet oasis of cottonwood and salt cedar heldin a fold of the desert.