Suffer the Children - By John Saul Page 0,83

Elizabeth said, and Rose got the definite impression that her daughter was thinking about something else.

“Is something bothering you, dear?” she asked the girl.

“I—I don’t know,” Elizabeth said hesitantly. “It’s just that I’m not sure—” She broke off, and Rose prompted her again.

“Sure of what, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. Finally she sat down and looked at her mother, a worried expression on her face.

“I don’t know, really,” Elizabeth said. “But I thought I saw Jimmy yesterday afternoon.”

“You mean after you walked home with him?” Jack asked.

Elizabeth nodded. “But I’m not sure it was him,” she said, as if it was somehow important that whoever she had seen might not be Jimmy Tyler.

“Where did you think you saw him?” Jack pressed.

“In the field,” Elizabeth blurted. “Playing with Sarah.”

“But you couldn’t see them clearly?” Rose asked, knowing what was coming.

“They were too far away,” Elizabeth said miserably. “They were almost to the woods.”

“I see.” Rose sighed. She avoided looking at Jack, afraid to see if he was feeling the same thing she was feeling. Instead, she spoke again to her daughter.

“They were by themselves?” she asked, and hoped that Elizabeth wouldn’t hear the implied criticism. After all, Rose reflected, she isn’t Sarah’s nurse. She wished she could have retracted the question, but didn’t see how she could.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said apologetically. “I was in my room. I wouldn’t have seen them at all if I hadn’t looked out the window. I thought Sarah was in her room. I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Rose heard Jack say. “You aren’t responsible for Sarah.” Rose wished she’d said it “Why don’t you go upstairs, honey, so your mother and I can talk.”

Elizabeth left the room. Rose had the impression that she left only because she had been told to, that she wanted to stay. But there was nothing more to be said. She looked at her husband, but he was avoiding her gaze. The silence stretched until Rose could bear it no more.

“I don’t know what to think,” she said at last “I’m not sure I want to think at all.”

“Maybe we’d better call Dr. Belter,” Jack said.

“No,” Rose said, too sharply. “I mean, call him about what?”

Now it was Jack’s turn to sigh tiredly. “Don’t you think it’s time for us to face up to it?” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jack smiled ruefully. “What do you suppose would happen to us if we both decided to bury our heads in the sand at the same time?”

“All right,” Rose said after a short silence, her voice stronger. “You’re right, of course. I suppose we’re going to have to accept the possibility that Sarah is getting dangerous. Is that it?”

“That’s it,” Jack said. “Of course, it may easily not be true, but I don’t think we can sit here and do nothing. Not considering what’s been happening.”

“Let’s talk to her,” Rose said desperately. “Let’s at least try to talk to her before we do anything.”

“What good’ll it do?”

“I don’t know,” Rose said. “But we can at least try, can’t we?” Her eyes were beseeching him, and finally Jack stood up.

“All right,” he said. “Shall I go get her?”

“No!” Rose said immediately. “I’ll get her. You wait here.”

While she was gone, Jack mixed himself a drink. The hell with the meeting, he thought.

A few minutes later Rose was back, leading Sarah by the hand. She followed along docilely, almost as if she were unaware of what was happening. She wasn’t resisting, but she didn’t seem to be actively involved, either.

Rose sat the child down, then knelt beside her. Sarah sat quietly on the sofa, staring vacantly into the air in front of her face. After a minute or two her right hand went up and her thumb disappeared into her mouth.

“Sarah,” Rose said quietly.

Sarah continued to sit, sucking her thumb, apparently not hearing her mother’s voice.

“Sarah,” Rose repeated, a little louder. “Do you hear me?”

Sarah’s head turned, and she peered blankly at her mother. Rose made a distinct effort not to turn away.

“Sarah!” Jack said sharply. The child’s head swung around, and her gaze fell on her father. Jack met her eyes for a moment, but he was not as strong as Rose. He broke the eye contact, and sipped his drink.

“Sarah,” Rose said again. “Were you playing with Jimmy Tyler yesterday?”

No response.

“We need to know,” Rose said. “Can’t you at least nod your head? Were you playing with Jimmy Tyler yesterday? Jimmy Tyler!” she repeated, more loudly, as

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