as much time cutting the umbilical cord, he'd be sued for malpractice. It made me think of a myth I read when I was in grade-school and couldn't get enough of gods and goddesses and Trojan Horses. The story was about three sisters-the Greek Sisters, maybe, or maybe it was the Weird Sisters. Shit, don't ask me; I can't even remember to use my damned turnblinkers half the time. Anyway, these sisters were responsible for the course of all human life. One of them spun the thread, one of them decided how long it would be... is any of this ringing a bell, Lois?"
"Of course it is!" she nearly shouted. "The balloon-strings!
Ralph nodded. "Yes. The balloon-strings. I don't remember the names of the first two sisters, but I never forgot the name of the last one-Atropos. And according to the story, her job is to cut the thread the first one spins and the second one measures. You could argue with her, you could beg, but it never made any difference.
When she decided it was time to cut, she cut."
Lois was nodding. "Yes, I remember that story. I don't know if I read it or someone told it to me when I was a kid. You believe it's actually true, Ralph, don't you? Only it turns out to be the Bald Brothers instead of the Weird Sisters."
"Yes and no. As I remember the story, the sisters were all on the same side-a team. And that's the feeling I got about the two men who came out of Mrs. Locher's house, that they were long-time partners with immense respect for each other, But the other guy, the one we saw again tonight, isn't like them. I think Doc #3's a rogue."
Lois shivered, a theatrical gesture that became real at the last moment. "He's awful, Ralph. I hate him."
"I don't blame you."
He reached for the doorhandle, but Lois stopped him with a touch.
"I saw him do something."
Ralph turned and looked at her. The tendons in his neck creaked rustily. He had a pretty good idea what she was going to say.
"He picked the pocket of the man who hit Rosalie," she said.
"While he was kneeling beside her in the street, the bald man picked his pocket. Except all he took was a comb. And the hat that bald man was wearing... I'm pretty sure I recognized it."
Ralph went on looking at her, fervently hoping that Lois's memory of Doc #3's apparel did not extend any further.
"It was Bill's, wasn't it? Bill's Panama."
Ralph nodded. "Sure it was."
Lois closed her eyes. "Oh, Lord."
"What do you say, Lois? Are you still game?"
"Yes." She opened her door and swung her legs out. "But let's get going right away, before I lose my nerve."
"Tell me about it," said Ralph Roberts.
As they approached the main doors of Derry Home, Ralph leaned toward Lois's ear and murmured, "is it happening to you?"
"Yes." Her eyes were very wide. "God, yes. It's strong this time, isn't it?"
As they broke the electric-eye beam and the doors to the hospital lobby swung open before them, the surface of the world suddenly peeled back, disclosing another world, one that simmered with unseen colors and shifted with unseen shapes. Overhead, on the wallto-wall mural depicting Derry as it had been during its halcyon lumbering days at the turn of the century, dark brown arrow-shapes chased each other, growing closer and closer together until they touched. When that happened, they flashed a momentary dark green and changed direction. A bright silver funnel that looked like either a waterspout or a toy cyclone was descending the curved staircase which led up to the second-floor meeting rooms, cafeteria, and auditorium. Its wide top end nodded back and forth as it moved from step to step, and to Ralph it felt distinctly friendly, like an anthropomorphic character in a Disney cartoon. As Ralph watched, t\-"o men with briefcases hurried up the stairs, and one of them passed directly through the silver funnel. He never paused in what he was saying to his companion, but when he emerged on the other side, Ralph saw he was absently using his free hand to smooth back his hair... although not a strand was out of place.
The funnel reached the bottom of the stairs, raced around the center of the lobby in a tight, exuberant figure-eight, and then popped out of existence, leaving only a faint, rosy mist behind. This quickly dissipated.
Lois dug her elbow into Ralph's side, started to point toward an