John Saul - Nathaniel

Oblivious to the look that had passed between Anna and Amos, Janet nodded her head. "It must have been terrible for her," she said at last. "Not even in the hospital, and with nobody there-"

"I was there," Amos Hall corrected her. "And Buck and Dr. Potter."

"I'm sorry," Janet said quickly, immediately contrite. "I didn't mean that. I just meant-"

"Don't worry, dear," Anna assured her. "I know exactly what you meant."

Again, Janet fell silent for a moment, but then she took a deep breath, as a thought struck her. "But what about Ryan? Wasn't he going out to the Simpsons' with Michael?"

Amos shook his head. "He was home all evening."

Janet's eyes darted to the clock on the wall. It was a little past midnight. "But look at the time! Where's Michael?"

"Probably still at the Simpsons'," Anna told her. "A foaling can take all night."

"But what if he's coming home? He's all by himself, and he's only eleven-"

"And he can take care of himself," Amos assured her. "He's like his father-he'll be all right. Just try to take it easy, Janet. Getting yourself into a state won't help."

It was then that they heard the first scream.

Michael had mounted the bike and ridden quickly back toward the Simpsons'. When he was halfway there, he picked the bicycle up and jammed it into the fence between the north side of the road and the field beyond. When the wheels were securely tangled in the wire, Michael climbed the fence and began walking across the field. In the distance, he could see the faint glow which he knew marked his grandparents' house. Sure of his bearings, he began running, stumbling in the darkness every few yards, pitching headlong into the fresh-turned soil. Each time he fell, Shadow was instantly next to him, nosing at him, snuffling and whining until Michael rose once more to his feet. By the time he reached the far side of the field, with his grandparents' house clearly visible, his hands and face were scratched and bleeding, and what was left of his clothing was covered with grime. He climbed carefully through the last fence and paused to catch his breath.

As his breathing slowly settled into an easy rhythm, he watched the house, but if there was any movement inside, he was too far away to see it. Still, even as he crossed the road to the end of the driveway, he was sure that his grandparents, as well as his mother, were waiting for him.

Twenty yards from the house, he gathered his energy together, and began running.

Running, and screaming. Shadow, as if picking up a cue, added his furious barking to the melee.

"Mother! Grandpa! Help! Help me!"

Still running at top speed, he dashed around the house and hurled himself up the steps of the back porch, his fists pounding on the door. "Help me! Mother, help me!" The door flew open, and Michael threw himself into his mother's arms.

Janet's arms closed tightly around her hysterical son, and she sank to her knees to gather him against Her. "What is it?" she asked when Michael's terrified screams finally stopped. "Michael, what happened?"

"My bike!" Michael wailed. "I was coming home, and all of a sudden there was a car behind me. I thought it was Mrs. Simpson, but it wasn't. It-it ran me right off the road."

"Where?" Janet asked. "Where did it happen?"

"Right near the Simpsons'. I hadn't even gotten to our house yet."

Her mind spinning, Janet's gaze drifted up to Amos Hall. He was on his feet now, staring at his grandson.

"Tell us exactly what happened."

They were at the kitchen table now, and Michael was sitting huddled close against his mother, his eyes fixed on the face of his grandfather, who finally reached out to pat his hand. Instinctively, Michael pulled his hand away, but the old man ignored the rebuff. "It's all right. You're safe now. Just try to tell us what happened."

"I was coming home from Eric's," Michael began, letting his voice quaver. "I was coming along the road, and I was looking at our place in the moonlight. And then I heard something. It was a car, and it was coming along the road behind me." He fell silent, as if the memory was too frightening to talk about.

"Go on," his mother said gently. "What kind of car was it? Did you recognize it?"

Michael hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't think it was from around here. And it was coming real fast." He stared up at his mother. "It-it was almost like they were trying to hit me."

"Oh, no…" Janet protested, but Michael bobbed his head.

"I got way over, as far as I could, and pedaled faster. I thought maybe I could make it to our driveway, but I couldn't. And then, when it was right behind me, they honked their horn, and I skidded off the road."

"You mean they hit you?" Janet asked, the color draining from her face.

Michael swallowed, but shook his head. "Unh-unh. But then the car slowed down, and I got scared. So I climbed over the fence and hid in the field across the street from our house. And when the car came back, I started running."

"But honey, they were probably looking for you to see if you were all right."

"Maybe-maybe they wanted to kidnap me," Michael suggested, his eyes wide. "Anyway, I didn't even try to go back for the bike. I just started running across the field, but I kept falling and got my clothes all messed up." He looked uncertainly from his mother to his grandfather, then back to his mother again. "Are-are you mad at me?"

Janet hugged him close. "Mad at you? Honey, why would I be mad at you? It was just an accident, that's all. I'm sure no one was trying to run over you, or hurt you at all."

"But-"

"Shh," Janet said. "There isn't any reason why anyone would want to hurt you. You just had a bad fright, that's all. And I think the best thing you can do is go upstairs, take a nice hot bath, then go to bed., By morning you'll have forgotten all about this."

"But what about my bike?" Michael protested.

"Your bike?"

"It's still out there. It got all tangled in the fence, and I was so scared, I just left it there."

"We can get it in the morning," Amos told him. "Now, do what your mother says, and get on upstairs."

"But not before you give your grandmother a kiss," Anna suddenly interrupted. All through the conversation, she had sat in silence, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes shifting constantly between her husband and her grandson. But now she held her arms up, and Michael moved to her side. She wrapped her thin arms around him, and drew him close, so close her lips were at his ear, as if she were going to kiss him. "It's all right," she whispered. "I don't know what happened tonight, but I'll make him believe whatever you say." Then she kissed him on the cheek and released him.

As Michael straightened up, he looked at his grandmother in puzzlement. She knew he had lied. Was she going to tell on him? And then he understood the rest of her words. She was not going to tell on him. Instead, she was going to back him up. Without thinking, he smiled at her.

"I love you, too, Grandma," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. Then he turned to his mother. "Mom? Can Shadow sleep in my room tonight?"

Janet smiled and nodded her head. "All right. But just tonight."

His face wreathed in smiles, Michael dashed to the back door and pulled it open. "Shadow! Come on, boy!" Instantly, the big dog loped into the kitchen, then paused to peer suspiciously at the three people who sat around the table. As Michael left the kitchen to go upstairs, the dog hesitated only a second before following. When the boy was out of earshot, Amos spoke.

"I don't like that, Janet. Dogs belong outside. Particularly that dog."

"Oh, Amos, it's only for one night," Janet replied. "Besides, the dog is crazy about Michael. He never leaves his side."

"But we don't know where it came from. For all we know, it could be sick."