She'd set Tom's doll on the coffee table with the others, arranging them with mad precision beside the car keys Michael had thrown there. A little line of paper dolls that sat and looked at her as she sat on the couch. She'd been turning the boat over and over in her hands while Michael huddled in a blanket on the love seat.
Then she saw the writing on the waxy paper.
It was very simple, a kid's riddle. The simplest clue of all.
What gets bigger the more you take away from it?
She'd heard that one in kindergarten, and both she and Michael knew the answer.
A hole.
"It doesn't say who's next-but I guess it doesn't need to," Michael said, pulling the blanket closer around him. "He'll save you for last-the best for last, you know. So it's me. And it doesn't say how it's going to happen, but that doesn't really matter, does it? As long as you know it's going to happen, and it is. We know that, huh, Jenny? It's going to happen, and there's nothing we can do to stop it. That Julian, he's like the Mounties, he always gets his man...." He began to giggle.
"Michael, calm down...."
"So there's a hole somewhere, and I'm going to fall into it. That's all we need to know. That's all, folks."
"Maybe not. You said Tom went to get the snake or the wolf-maybe he did. And the base wasn't there, but maybe we can still find it."
"May be, may be-it's still May, isn't it?" He looked at the curtained window. It was fully dark outside. He turned back to Jenny. "You know we're never going to find it."
"I don't know that." Jenny's hands were icy cold, but her voice was fierce. "I have an idea-something else Julian said. Something about the hint being as clear as black and white. And before, in my first dream, he said something about image and reality."
"What is this reality thing, anyway?" Michael said. "I mean, how do we know we ever got out of the paper house? Maybe this is all an illusion, like when you think you've woken up but you're still dreaming. Maybe we're still in the old Game. Maybe nothing is solid." He leaned over and hit the coffee table and giggled again.
"Michael, why don't you lie down? Look, I'll get you some water-"
"No! Don't leave me!" He clutched at her as she went by. "If you leave me, he'll get me! The Shadow Man will get me!"
"Okay, Michael. Okay." Jenny looked down into the terrified dark eyes and stroked Michael's hair as if he were younger than Joey. "Okay."
"It's not okay. I have to go to the bathroom-but he can get me there, too."
"No, look, I'll go with you. I'll stand right outside the door."
"He'll get me. Didn't you ever hear about snakes coming out of the toilet? He'll get me, but I have to go,... What a dilemma, huh? Let him get me or bust." Michael was almost crying, even while he continued to giggle.
"Michael, stop it. Stop it!" For the second time that day Jenny shook him. "Just calm down! The potty monster is not going to get you, I promise. We'll look for snakes before you go. Let's do it now and get it over with, and then we can think about the base."
Michael shut his eyes and gulped in a deep breath. When he let it out, he seemed calmer. "Okay." But he still staggered like somebody half-asleep when Jenny led him to the bathroom.
"You see? No snakes in there. And I'll stand right outside."
"Leave the door open a crack."
"Okay, Michael." Jenny stood patiently.
"Jenny?" Michael's voice behind the door sounded very small. "A toilet's a lot like a hole...."
"Just do it, Michael!"
"Okay." After a minute the toilet flushed.
"You see? You're all right."
Michael didn't answer. The toilet went on flushing.
"Michael?"
The sound of rushing water.
"Michael, it's not funny! Come out of there, or I'm coming in."
The water rushed on.
"Damn it, Michael! All right, I warned you-" She jerked the door open.
The bathroom was empty. The toilet was flushing madly, water swirling round and round. Perched on the edge of the porcelain seat was a paper doll.
Five little dollies all in a row. Audrey sitting with her arm twisted up as if to say, "Can we talk?" Zach with his pencil-shaded face looking sharp and malicious. Dee, who kept falling on her back no matter how Jenny folded her. Tom, with a drop or two of rain still beaded on his