They went up the stairs holding the rail, Ryan still in front. At the top he stopped a moment to listen, then went into the first bedroom on the right, the one where he and Billy Ruiz had found the men’s clothes. The room was familiar: the window over the back porch, the dresser, the twin beds, the night table where he had put his cigar. He remembered now that he must have left the cigar in the ashtray and he moved between the beds to see if it was still there, not expecting to find it but curious. Nancy went past him to the dresser and began going through the drawers.

Ryan sat on the bed, sipping his beer, watching her. She had opened a drawer and was feeling inside, closing it gently now and opening the next drawer to dig her hands under the clothes and feeling around in there thoroughly. “You see, what she does she goes through everything to make sure no valuables are hidden anywhere.” And Leon Woody would say, “Yeah, the valuables. Say, man, did you tell her about dumping the drawers on the floor to get at all them valuables?”

No, he didn’t tell her about that. He finished the beer and went through the bath to the adjoining bedroom, the one the women had used Sunday, and checked the tops of the dresser and the chest of drawers. There were two more bedrooms across the hall. He looked into each but saw nothing worth taking, not a hundred and fifty miles from Detroit without a car. He thought of something then and went back through the second bedroom to the bath and opened the medicine cabinet. The Jade East was still there. He rubbed a few drops of the lotion between his palms, then over his jaw, staring at the mirror but barely making out his reflection in the darkness.

He went into the bedroom where he had left Nancy-not hearing a sound in the room and not seeing her at first because he expected to see her standing by the dresser or by the closet. He looked toward the door and as his gaze shifted he saw the movement on the bed, in the bed, that’s where she was, in bed with the spread pulled up to her chin. She was watching him, waiting for him to find her, watching him now as he came around between the twin beds and sat down on the empty one.

“I give up,” Ryan said. “What’re you doing?”

“Waiting for you,” she said, giving him the look with her dark hair on the white pillow. “Guess if I have any clothes on.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Guess.”

He began to nod then, slowly. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re right,” Nancy said. “Know what you win?”

“Listen, I know a better place.”

“Where?”

“My room.”

“Nope. Right here.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think it’s ever been done before.”

“I believe it and I’ll tell you why,” Ryan said.

“In other people’s houses after you’ve sneaked in. That’s the new game.”

“I’ve heard it’s not as much fun, listening for somebody to walk in.”

Nancy smiled. “Wouldn’t that be good? Can you see the look on their face?”

“Just tell me why,” Ryan said. “Okay?”

“Why. That’s all you say. You know, Jackie, you’re really sort of a drag. I thought you might be fun, but I don’t know-”

“Move over.”

“First you have to take off your clothes. It’s a rule.”

“Shoes?”

“Everything.”

He began unbuttoning his shirt and pulling out the tails, standing close to the bed now and looking down at her.

“Everything,” Nancy said.

“In a minute.” Ryan eased down next to her and her hands held the spread tightly up under her chin.

“Not till everything’s off.”

He leaned in closer, placing his hands on the pillow so that she was looking directly up at him now, between his arms.

She sniffed. “What’s that?”

“Nice?”

“You put too much on.”

“You want to talk or what?”

“I told you the rule-”

He leaned in almost all the way, setting the angle so that their mouths would fit just right and feeling her strain a little toward him, and there he hesitated, holding motionless.

Almost touching his mouth she said, “What’s the matter?”

“Shhh.”

Neither of them moved. The room, the house, was silent.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Ryan pushed himself up slowly, bringing his hands off the pillow. He touched a finger to his mouth as he rose and moved quietly around the bed to the door. He stood with one hand on the door frame, leaning into the hall, listening. He glanced at her and now he was moving, closing the door and locking it carefully, stepping to the window to look out, hesitating, then pushing open the screen and lowering it to the porch roof. Going out the window, ducking under, he looked at her once more.

“You going to wait for them?”

“Where are they?”

He motioned with one hand, pointing down to the floor. “Come on.”

Then he was out, over the edge of the roof and hanging a moment before dropping. He was in the field bordering the yard, in the high brush, before he turned to see Nancy coming out the window, fully dressed. She stood looking down, undecided, and Ryan smiled. He waited patiently, knowing she would come down because she had no choice, and right now seconds to her were like minutes. He watched her go to her knees and look down again and slowly roll over and let the lower part of her body hang from the roof. It’s going to sting your feet, Ryan thought, but it’s the only way. He watched her drop and stumble and stand motionless as she came to her feet.

From the edge of the bushes he called softly, “Hey!” and waited for her to reach him. He took her arm then and moved through the brush and scrub trees toward the beach, almost running, dragging her after him. As he reached the low rise above the sand he turned to catch her, letting her weight and momentum carry them over the edge so that they fell down to the sand clinging to each other, rolling and coming to a stop with Ryan lying partly on top of her, one leg over hers, resting his weight on his arms beneath her. He could feel her breathing against him as she tried to catch her breath, the nice nose and the partly open mouth close to his face and her eyes closed. He waited until her eyes opened, then waited a little more, looking at her and feeling her body relax.

“You get dressed quick.”

Her expression was calm, but her gaze held his expectantly, sensing something in his eyes or in the tone of his voice.

“You didn’t hear anyone,” she said finally. “You didn’t hear a thing.”

“Just for a while,” Ryan said, “let’s not talk, okay?”

“If we’re going to not talk,” Nancy said, “I’d rather not talk somewhere else.”

“You don’t like the sand?”

“I’m not the outdoorsy type, Jackie. You might as well know it.”

“I don’t think I can move.”

“Try,” Nancy said.

Ryan watched himself at certain times, sometimes when he was alone-like standing seven feet off third base and his hat on just right, or walking along the beach or driving a car-but usually it happened when he was with certain people. He wasn’t aware of himself when he was with Mr. Majestyk. But he was aware of himself almost all the time with Nancy, seeing himself and hearing himself and most of the time he looked dumb. Big jerky dumb guy saying dumb things, trying to impress the girl. He couldn’t get in the right frame of mind to feel sure of himself. He could fake it; he could act like the big smooth-o; but he could feel her watching him, still not impressed, maybe laughing at him, and he never for more than a moment felt in control. He was pretty sure she was at ease. But what if she was faking it? What if she was someone else inside, the way she said her mother was someone else looking out through her eyes? Maybe she was faking it. She was being cool and he was being cool, each trying to be cooler than the other until pretty soon, Ryan decided, you get so cool you can’t even move because of the chance that anything at all you might do might turn out to be dumb-anything. What good was being cool if you weren’t you? Whoever you are, Ryan thought.