There was only one conversational exchange between them as the Oldsmobile rolled up Hospital Drive, and it was a brief one. “Ralph?” He glanced over at her, then quickly back at the road. That clacking sound under the hood had begun again, but Lois hadn’t mentioned it yet. He hoped she wasn’t going to do so now. “I think I know where he is. Ed, I mean. I was pretty sure, even up on the roof, that I recognized that ramshackle old building they showed us.”

“What is it? And where?”

“It’s an airplane garage. A whatdoyoucallit. Hangar.”

“Oh my God,” Ralph said. “Coastal Air, on the Bar Harbor Road? “Lois nodded. “They have charter flights, seaplane rides, things like that.

One Saturday when we were out for a drive, Mr. Chasse went in and asked a man who worked there how much he’d charge to take us for a sightseeing hop over the islands.

The man said forty dollars, which was much more than we could have afforded to spend on something like that, and in the summer I’m sure the man would’ve stuck to his guns, but it was only April, and Mr. Chasse was able to dicker him down to twenty. I thought that was still too much to spend on a ride that didn’t even last an hour, but I’m glad we went. It was scary, but it was beautiful.”

“Like the auras,” Ralph said.

“Yes, like…” Her voice wavered. Ralph looked over and saw tears trickling down her plump cheeks. like the auras.”

“Don’t cry, Lois.”

She found a Kleenex in her purse and wiped her eyes. “I can’t help it, That Japanese word on the card means kamikaze, doesn’t it, Ralph? Divine Wind.” She paused, lips trembling. “Suicide pilot.”

Ralph nodded. He was gripping the wheel very tightly. “Yes,” he said. “That’s what it means. Suicide pilot.”

Route 33-known as Newport Avenue in town-passed within four blocks of Harris Avenue, but Ralph had absolutely no intention of breaking their long fast over on the west side. The reason was as simple as it was compelling: he and Lois couldn’t afford to be seen by any of their old friends, not looking fifteen or twenty years younger than they had on Monday.

Had any of those old friends reported them missing to the police yet?

Ralph knew it was possible, but felt he could reasonably hope that so far they had escaped much notice and concern, at least from his circle; Faye and the rest of the folks who hung out in the picnic area near the Extension would be in too much of a dither over the passing of not just one Old Crock colleague but a pair of them to spend much time wondering about where Ralph Roberts had gotten his skinny old ass off to.

Both Bill and jimmy could have been waked, funeralled, and buried by now, he thought. we’ve got time for breakfast, Ralph, find a place as quick as you can-I’m so hungry I could eat a horse with the hide still on!”

They were almost a mile west of the hospital now-far enough away to allow Ralph to feel reasonably safe-and he saw the Derry Diner up ahead. As he signalled and turned into the parking lot, he realized he hadn’t been here since Carol had gotten sick… a year at least, maybe more.

“Here we are,” he told Lois. “And we’re not just going to eat, we’re going to eat all we can. We may not get another chance today.”

She grinned like a schoolkid. “You’ve just put your finger on one of my great talents, Ralph.” She wriggled a little on the seat.

“Also, I have to spend a penny.”

Ralph nodded. No food since Tuesday, and no bathroom stops, either. Lois could spend her penny; he intended to pop into the men’s room and let go of a couple of dollars.

“Come on,” he said, turning off the motor and silencing that troublesome clacking under the hood. “First the bathroom, then the foodquake.”

On the way to the door she told him (speaking in a voice Ralph found just a trifle too casual) that she didn’t think either Mina or Simone would have reported her missing, at least not yet. When Ralph turned his head to ask her why, he was amazed and amused to see she was blushing rosy-red.

“They both know I’ve had a crush on you for years.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Of course not,” she said, sounding a bit put out. “Carolyn knew too. Some women would have minded, but she understood how harmless it was. How harmless I was. She was such a dear, Ralph.”

“Yes. She was.”

“Anyway, they’ll probably assume that we’ve… you know “Gone off on a little French leave?”

Lois laughed. “Something like that.”

“Would you like to go off on a little French leave, Lois?”

She stood on tiptoe and nibbled briefly at his earlobe. “If we get out of this alive, you just ask me.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth before pushing open the door.

“You can count on it, lady.”

They made for the bathrooms, and when Ralph rejoined her, Lois looked both thoughtful and a little shaken. “I can’t believe it’s me,” she said in a low voice. “I mean, I must have spent at least two minutes staring at myself in the mirror, and I still can’t believe it, The crow’s-feet around my eyes are all gone, and Ralph… my hair.

… “Those dark Spanish eyes of hers looked up at him, filled with brilliance and wonder. “And you.” My God, I doubt if you looked this good when you were forty.”

“I didn’t, but you should have seen me when I was thirty. I was an a imal.” She giggled. “Come on, fool, let’s sit down and murder some calories.

“Lois?

She glanced up from the menu she’d plucked from a little collection of them filed between the salt and pepper shakers.

“When I was in the bathroom, I tried to make the auras come back.

This time I couldn’t do it.”

“Why would you want to, Ralph?”

He shrugged, not wanting to tell her about the feeling of paranoia that had dropped over him as he stood at the basin in the little bathroom, washing his hands and looking into his own strangely young face in the water-spotted mirror. It had suddenly occurred to him that he might not be alone in there. Worse, Lois might not be alone next door in the women’s room. Atropos might be creeping up behind her, completely unseen, diamond-cluster earrings glittering from his tiny lobes… scalpel outstretched…

Then, instead of Lois’s earrings or McGovern’s Panama, his mind’s eye had conjured the jumprope Atropos had been using when Ralph had spotted him

(three-six-nine lion the goose drank wine)

in the vacant lot between the bakery and the tanning salon, the jumprope which had once been the prized possession of a little girl who had stumbled during a game of apartment-tag, fallen out of a second-story window, and died of a broken neck (what a dreadful accident, she had her whole life ahead of her, if there’s a God why does He let things like that happen, and so on and so on, not to mention blah-blah-blah).

He had told himself to stop it, that things were bad enough without his indulging in gruesome fantasies of Atropos slashing Lois’s balloon-string, but it didn’t help much… mostly because he knew Atropos might really be here with them in the restaurant, and Atropos could do anything to them he liked. Anything at all.

Lois reached across the table and touched the back of his hand.

“Don’t worry. The colors will come back. They always do.”

“I suppose.” He took a menu of his own, opened it, and cast an eye down the breakfast bill of fare. His initial impression was that he wanted one of everything.

“The first time you saw Ed acting crazy, he was coming out of the Derry Airport,” Lois said. “Now we know why. He was taking flying lessons, wasn’t he?”

“Of course. While Trig was giving me a lift back to Harris Avenue, he even mentioned that you need a pass to come out that way, through the service gate. He asked me if I knew how Ed had gotten one, and I said I didn’t. Now I do. They must give them to all the General Aviation flying students.”