Ralph could see a large spoked wheel lying atop a cane-backed chair which was, in turn, standing on top of a splintery old clothes press. Looking at that wheel brought a deeper chill; it was as if the metaphor his mind had seized to help grasp the concept of ka had become real. Then he noted the rusty ired iron strip which circled the wheel's outer circumference and real it had probably come from one of those Gay Nineties bikes that looked like overgrown tricycles. all right, and it's a hundred years old if it's a day. It's a bicycle whee, all ri -how day, he thought. That led him to wonder how many people many thousands or tens of thousands-had died in and around Derry since Atropos had somehow transported this wheel down here. And of those thousands, how many had been Random deaths?
And how far back does he go? How many hundreds of years?
No way of telling, of course; maybe all the way to the beginning, whenever or however that had been. And during that time, he had taken a little something from everyone he had fucked with... and here it all was.
Here it all was.
["Ralph."] He looked around and saw that Lois was holding out both hands.
In one was a Panama hat with a crescent bitten from the brim. In the other was a black nylon pocket-comb, the kind you could buy in any convenience store for a buck twenty-nine. A ghostly glimmer of orange-yellow still clung to it, which didn't surprise Ralph much.
Each time the comb's owner had used it, it must have picked up a little of that glow from both his aura and his balloon-string, like dandruff. It also didn't surprise him that the comb should have been with
McGovern's hat; the last time he'd seen those two things, they'd been together. He remembered Atropos's sarcastic grin as he swept the Panama from his head and pretended to use the comb on his own bald dome.
And then he jumped up and clicked his heels together.
Lois was pointing at an old rocking chair with a broken runner.
["The hat was right there, on the seat. The comb was underneath.
It's Mr. Wyzer's, isn't it?"] ["Yes.] She held it out to him immediately.
["You take it. I'm not as ditzy as Bill always thought, but sometimes I lose things. And if I lost this, I'd never forgive myself."] He took the comb, started to put it into his back pocket, then thought how easily Atropos had plucked it from that same location.
Easy as falling off a log, it had been. He put it into his front pants pocket instead, then looked back at Lois, who was gazing at McGovern's bitten hat with the sad wonder of Hamlet looking at the skull of his old pal Yorick. When she looked up, Ralph saw tears in her eyes.
["He loved this hat. He thought he looked very dashing and debonair when he had it on. He didn't just look like Bill-but he thought he looked good, and that's the important part. Wouldn't you say so, Ralph?"] ["Yes."] She tossed the hat back into the seat of the old rocker and turned to examine a box of what looked like rummage-sale clothes. As soon as her back was to him, Ralph squatted down, peering beneath the chair, hoping to see a splintered double gleam in the darkness. If Bill's hat and Joe's comb were both here, then maybe Lois's earringsThere was nothing beneath the rocker but dust and a pink knitted baby bootee.
Should have known that'd be too easy, Ralph thought, getting to his feet again. He suddenly felt exhausted. They had found Joe's comb with no trouble at all, and that was good, absolutely great, but Ralph was afraid it had also been a spectacular case of beginner's luck.
They still had Lois's earrings to worry about... and doing whatever else it was they had been sent here to do, of course. And what was that? He didn't know, and if someone from upstairs was sending instructions, he wasn't receiving them.
["Lois, do you have any idea what-"] ["Shhhh!" ["What is it?
Lois is it him?"] ["No." Be quiet, Ralph." Be quiet and listen!"] He listened. At first he heard nothing, and then the clenching sensation-the blink-came inside his head again. This time it was very slow, very cautious. He slipped upward a little farther, as lightly as a feather lifted in a draft of warm air. He became aware of a long, 6 low groaning