Cry for the Strangers Page 0,15

surf and I know everything’s going to be all right.” She snuggled closer. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” Glen said. “It just takes a little time.”

A few moments later, as Glen and Rebecca were about to go to bed, a small voice summoned them to the bedroom. Missy sat bolt upright in the lower bunk while Robby peered dolefully down at her from the upper.

“I told her not to call you,” Robby said importantly.

“I heard something outside,” Missy declared, ignoring her brother.

“What did you hear, darling?” Rebecca asked gently.

“I’m not sure, but it was something.”

“Sort of a rustling sound?”

The little girl’s head bobbed eagerly.

“It was probably just a branch rubbing against the house,” Glen said reassuringly.

“Or old Snooker looking for something,” Robby added.

“It was something else,” Missy insisted. “Something’s out there.”

Glen went to the small window and pulled the makeshift drapery aside. Beyond the glass the darkness was almost palpable, but he made a great show of looking first in one direction, then another. At last he dropped the curtain back into place, and turned to his daughter, who was watching him anxiously from the bunk. “Nothing there.”

Missy looked unconvinced. “Can I sleep with you and Mommy tonight?”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Robby said scornfully. Missy cowered under the quilt at her brother’s reproach. But Rebecca leaned over the tiny face, and kissed it gently.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” she murmured. “There’s nothing outside, and Mommy and Daddy will be right in the next room. If you get frightened, you just call us and we’ll be right here.”

She straightened, winked at her son, and left the room. After kissing each of his children once more, Glen followed his wife.

“Are you asleep?” Robby whispered.

“No.” Missy’s voice seemed to echo in the darkness.

A flash of lightning lit the room, followed immediately by a thunderclap.

“I wish it would stop,” Missy complained.

“I like it,” Robby replied. “It makes me feel good.” There was a silence, then the little boy spoke again. “Let’s go outside and find Snooker.”

Missy crept out of bed and went to the window, straining to see in the blackness. “It’s raining. We’ll get soaked.”

“We can put on our slickers.”

“I don’t think Snooker’s out there,” Missy said doubtfully.

“Yes he is. Daddy says he sleeps under the house.”

Robby climbed down from the top bunk and crouched next to his sister. “It’ll be fun,” he said. “It’ll be an adventure.”

“I don’t like adventures.”

“Fraidy cat.”

“I’m not either!”

“Then come outside with me.” Robby was pulling on his clothes. After watching him for a few seconds, Missy, too, began dressing.

“What if Mommy and Daddy hear us?” she asked as Robby opened the window.

“They won’t,” Robby replied with the assurance of his nine-and-one-half years. He began climbing over the sill. A moment later the children were outside, huddled against the cabin wall, trying to shelter themselves from the rain and wind.

“Snooker?” Robby called softly. “Come here, Snooker.”

They waited, expecting the spaniel to come bounding out of the darkness, wagging his tail and lapping their faces.

He didn’t come.

The two children looked at each other, unsure what to do next. Robby made the decision.

“We’d better go find him.”

“It’s too dark,” Missy complained.

“No it isn’t. Come on.” Robby started through the trees toward the beach. Hesitantly, Missy followed him.

As soon as he was clear of the woods, the force of the wind and rain hit Robby full in the face, filling him with a strange sense of exhilaration. He began running through the storm, listening to the roaring surf, calling out into the night. Behind him, her small feet pounding the packed sand, Missy ran as hard as she could to keep up with her brother. Though she could barely see him, she could follow the sound of his voice as he called out for the recalcitrant dog.

“Snooker! Snooooooker!!”

Suddenly Robby stopped running and Missy caught up with him. “Did you find him?”

“Shh!”

Missy lapsed into silence, and stared at her brother. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“Listen!”

She listened as hard as she could, but at first all she heard was the wind and the surf. Then there was something else.

A crackling sound, like twigs breaking.

“Someone’s here,” she whispered.

A dark figure, indistinct in the blackness, moved out of the woods and began coming across the beach toward them.

“Daddy?” Missy piped in a tiny voice, then fell silent as she realized that it was not her father. She moved closer to Robby, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tight. “What’ll we do?”

“I don’t know,” Robby whispered. He was frightened, but he was