any of you. I’ve no idea. What about the natives of Wink?”
“The people of Wink, of course, know nothing,” says the young boy.
“But one native was the last to have contact with those who dwell in the mountains,” says the model. “Mr. Macey talked one of the young ones into attacking the native. It placed its kiss upon him, set its many eyes dancing in his skin. We believe it was Macey’s idea of frightening the native off. Macey was convinced this man had somehow injured Weringer. But how, he did not say. He kept his counsel to himself in his last days.”
“Perhaps that was wise,” says Mrs. Benjamin. She picks something green and pink out from between her incisors, flicks it away. “Perhaps I ought to do the same. Yes, I think so. Everyone who tries to help you people winds up dying, one way or another. It’s the only intelligent thing to do. So, I will choose to excuse myself now.” With a grunt she begins to get to her feet.
“But you can’t!” says the young boy.
“And why not?” asks Mrs. Benjamin.
“Because if you don’t find those in the mountains, who will?” he cries.
Mrs. Benjamin pauses. All the faces are watching her. She sits back down. “This is why you wanted me here, isn’t it?” she asks. “You want me to find all our missing brethren.” Her face curdles at the revelation. “For God’s sake, you come calling on an old woman in the dead of night for this… I can’t go running around the countryside, willy-nilly.”
“You are famous for your strength,” says the housewife.
“I am an old woman, thank you,” Mrs. Benjamin says angrily. “And that’s not the point! I don’t know what happened any more than you do. I can’t help.”
“But you must know something,” says another of the shadowy faces. “You are older and more powerful than any of us. You have talents that we do not.”
“Oh, goodness,” sighs Mrs. Benjamin. “I haven’t used any of them in years.”
“I am sure you can remember,” says the housewife.
“But I don’t want to. For so long I didn’t need to. I was happy where I was.”
“So were we all,” says the housewife.
“We were happy being people,” says the model.
“Happy being small,” says one of the shadowy faces.
“Happy being happy,” says the young boy.
“And we can lose all that, if we don’t correct things,” says the housewife. “We must fix this, Mrs. Benjamin. We need your assistance.”
Mrs. Benjamin eyes each one of them. It is clear, though nearly all of them appear over thirty, that each and every one is in essence a child. Sometimes she forgets that.
She grumbles a little, and shifts forward in her chair. “Well,” she says. “I suppose I can see what I can do.”
“You agree, then?” asks the model.
“Yes, yes, I agree. I’m not going to lead your damn meetings, but I will try and find where the youngest ones have gone.”
“We are so grateful for your help,” says the housewife.
“Save it until I get some results,” snaps Mrs. Benjamin. “What I find might be very unpleasant. I expect it will be, honestly, considering everything that’s been going on.”
All the faces in the mirror grow a little sober at that.
Mrs. Benjamin sits up and coughs politely. “Now,” she says. “I am going to need someone to bring me coffee while I go to work. A lot of it. So which of you is it going to be?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Getting out of the house proves to be one hell of a lot easier than getting in, and Mona is quite relieved to hop back over the fence and climb up the brambly hillside. She’s got the key in her backpack, and she can feel it bumping around awkwardly in there. She’s wrapped it up in her gloves, since she was afraid that one of its delicate teeth might get bent, rendering it unable to open… well, whatever it’s supposed to open.
She can’t help but feel that the key is hot, like it’s going to burn a hole in her gloves and her backpack and go sliding down the hillside. The item is forbidden, like the subject of Coburn itself. Like so many topics in Wink, she can tell that the lab on the mesa is always in the background of everything, present but unmentionable. The entire town was built around it, for God’s sake. Though it is distant and dark, she feels it is the heart of this town.
Coburn did something, she thinks as she