that they all looked like lovergirls and fagboys to him now, all of them, as if the world had degenerated into a cesspool of one-sex lovers, women who were thieves, men who were liars, none of them with any respect for the glue that held society together.
His headache was getting worse, and the bright little zigzags had started to show around the edges of things again. The noises of this place had grown maddeningly loud, as if some cruel gnome inside his head had taken over the controls and was gradually turning the volume all the way up to max decibels. The rumble of the cars mounting the first slope of the rollercoaster track sounded like an avalanche, and the screams of the riders as the cars fell into the first drop tore at his ears like shrapnel. The calliope farting out its steamy tunes, the electronic chatter from the video arcade, the buglike whine of go-karts speeding around the Rally Racer track ... these sounds converged inside his confused and frightened mind like hungry monsters. Worst of all, pervading everything and digging into the meat of his brain like the blade of a dull auger, was the chant of the mechanical sailor in front of the Haunted Ship. He felt that if he had to listen to it bellow “Ahoy for terror, matey!” just one more time, his mind would snap like a dry stick of kindling. Either that or he would simply bolt out of this dumb fucking chair and go screaming through—
Stop, Normie.
He wheeled into a small empty space between the booth selling fried dough and the one selling pizza by the slice, and there he did stop, facing away from the milling crowds. When that particular voice came, Norman always listened. It was the voice which had told him nine years ago that the only way to shut Wendy Yarrow up was to kill her, and it was also the voice which had finally persuaded him to take Rose to the hospital the time she’d broken a rib.
Normie, you’ve gone crazy, that calm, lucid voice said now. By the standards of the courtrooms where you’ve testified thousands of times, you’re as nutty as a Payday candybar. You know that, don’t you?
Faintly, blowing to him on the breeze off the lake: “Ahoy for terror, matey!”
Normie?
“Yeah,” he whispered. He began to massage his aching temples with the tips of his fingers. “Yeah, I guess I do know that.”
All right; a person can work with his handicaps ... if he’s willing to acknowledge them. You have to find out where she is, and that means taking a risk. But you took a risk just coming here, right?
“Yeah, ” he said. “Yeah, Daddy, I did. ”
Okay, the bullshit stops here. Listen up, Normie.
Norman listened up.
9
Gert pushed Stan Huggins on the swings for a little while longer, his cries for her to “loop him around the loop some more” becoming steadily more tiresome. She had no intention of doing that again; the first time he’d damned near fallen out, and for one second Gert had been sure she was going to drop dead of a heart attack.
Also, her mind had returned to the guy. The bald guy.
Did she know him from somewhere? Did she?
Could it have been Rosie’s husband?
Oh, that’s insane. Paranoia deluxe.
Probably, yeah. Almost certainly. But the idea nibbled. The size looked about right ... although when you were looking at a guy in a wheelchair it was hard to tell, wasn’t it? A man like Rosie’s husband would know that, of course.
Quit it. You’re jumping at shadows.
Stan tired of the swings and asked Gert if she’d climb on the jungle gym with him. She smiled and shook her head.
“Why not?” he asked, pouting.
“Because your old pal Gert hasn’t had a jungle gym body since she ditched the diapers and rubber pants,” she said. She saw Randi Franklin over by the slide and suddenly made a decision. If she didn’t chase this a little, it would drive her nuts. She asked Randi if she’d keep an eye on Stan for awhile. The young woman said sure and Gert called her an angel, which Randi definitely was not ... but a little positive reinforcement never hurt anyone.
“Where you goin, Gert?” Stan asked, clearly disappointed.
“Got to run an errand, big boy. Chase on over there and slide awhile with Andrea and Paul.”
“Slidin’s for babies,” Stan said morosely, but he went.
10
Gert walked up the path which led from the picnic area to the