L'Engle, Madeleine - Time Quartet 2 - A Wind in the Door
Transcript of L'Engle, Madeleine - Time Quartet 2 - A Wind in the Door
AWindintheDoor
MadelineL’Engle
Contents1CharlesWallace’sDragons2ARipintheGalaxy3TheManintheNight4Proginoskes5TheFirstTest6TheRealMr.Jenkins7MetronAriston8JourneyintotheInterior9FarandolaeandMitochondria10Yadah11Sporos12AWindintheDoor
1CharlesWallace’sDragons.“Therearedragonsinthetwins’vegetablegarden.”MegMurrytookherheadoutoftherefrigeratorwhereshehadbeenforaging
foranafter-schoolsnack,andlookedathersix-year-oldbrother.“What?”“Therearedragonsinthetwins’vegetablegarden.Ortherewere.They’ve
movedtothenorthpasturenow.”Meg,notreplying—itdidnotdotoanswerCharlesWallacetooquickly
whenhesaidsomethingodd—returnedtotherefrigerator.“IsupposeI’llhavelettuceandtomatoasusual.Iwaslookingforsomethingnewanddifferentandexciting.”
“Meg,didyouhearme?”“Yes,Iheardyou.IthinkI’llhaveliverwurstandcreamcheese.”Shetook
hersandwichmaterialsandabottleofmilkandsetthemoutonthekitchentable.CharlesWallacewaitedpatiently.Shelookedathim,scowlingwithananxietyshedidnotliketoadmittoherself,atthefreshripsinthekneesofhisbluejeans,thestreaksofdirtgraineddeepinhisshirt,adarkeningbruiseonthecheekboneunderhislefteye.“Okay,didthebigboysjumpyouintheschoolyardthistime,orwhenyougotoffthebus?”
“Meg,youaren’tlisteningtome.”“Ihappentocarethatyou’vebeeninschoolfortwomonthsnowandnota
singleweekhasgonebythatyouhaven’tbeenroughedup.Ifyou’vebeentalkingaboutdragonsinthegardenorwherevertheyare,Isupposethatexplainsit.”
“Ihaven’t.Don’tunderestimateme.Ididn’tseethemtillIgothome.”WheneverMegwasdeeplyworriedshegotangry.Nowshescowledather
sandwich.“IwishMother’dgetthespreadablekindofcreamcheese.Thisstuffkeepsgoingrightthroughthebread.Whereisshe?”
“Inthelab,doinganexperiment.Shesaidtotellyoushewouldn’tbelong.”“Where’sFather?”“HegotacallfromL.A.,andhe’sgonetoWashingtonforacoupleofdays.”Likethedragonsinthegarden,theirfather’svisitstotheWhiteHousewere
somethingbestnottalkedaboutatschool.Unlikethedragons,thesevisitswerereal.
CharlesWallacepickedupMeg’sdoubting.“ButIsawthem,Meg,the
dragons.Eatyoursandwichandcomesee.”“Where’reSandyandDennys?”“Soccerpractice.Ihaven’ttoldanybodybutyou.”Suddenlysounding
forlorn,youngerthanhissixyears,hesaid,“Iwishthehigh-schoolbusgothomeearlier.I’vebeenwaitingandwaitingforyou.”
Megreturnedtotherefrigeratortogetlettuce.Thiswasacoverforsomerapidthinking,althoughshecouldn’tcountonCharlesWallacenotpickingupherthoughts,ashehadpickedupherdoubtsaboutthedragons.Whathehadactuallyseenshecouldnotbegintoguess.Thathehadseensomething,somethingunusual,shewaspositive.
CharlesWallacesilentlywatchedherfinishmakingthesandwich,carefullyaligningtheslicesofbreadandcuttingitinprecisesections.“IwonderifMr.Jenkinshaseverseenadragon?”
Mr.Jenkinswastheprincipalofthevillageschool,andMeghadhadherowntroubleswithhim.ShehadsmallhopethatMr.JenkinswouldcarewhathappenedtoCharlesWallace,orthathewouldbewillingtointerfereinwhathecalled‘thenormalproceduresofdemocracy.’“Mr.Jenkinsbelievesinthelawofthejungle.”Shespokethroughamouthful.“Aren’ttheredragonsinthejungle?”
CharlesWallacefinishedhisglassofmilk.“Nowonderyoualwaysflunksocialstudies.Eatyoursandwichandstopstalling.Let’sgoandseeifthey’restillthere.”
Theycrossedthelawn,followedbyFortinbras,thelarge,black,almost-Labradordog,happilysniffingandsnufflingattherustyautumnalremainsoftherhubarbpatch.Megtrippedoverawirehoopfromthecroquetset,andmadeanannoyedgrunt,mostlyatherself,becauseshehadputthewicketsandmalletsawayafterthelastgame,andforgottenthisone.AlowwallofbarberryseparatedthecroquetlawnfromSandy’sandDennys’svegetablegarden.Fortinbrasleapedoverthebarberry,andMegcalledautomatically,“Notinthegarden,Fort,”andthebigdogbackedout,betweenrowsofcabbageandbroccoli.Thetwinswerejustlyproudoftheirorganicproduce,whichtheysoldaroundthevillageforpocketmoney.
“Adragoncouldmakearealmessofthisgarden,”CharlesWallacesaid,andledMegthroughrowsofvegetables.“Ithinkherealizedthat,becausesuddenlyhesortofwasn’tthere.”
“Whatdoyoumean,hesortofwasn’tthere?Eitherhewasthere,orhewasn’t.”
“Hewasthere,andthenwhenIwenttolookcloser,hewasn’tthere,andIfollowedhim—notreallyhim,becausehewasmuchfasterthanI,andIonlyfollowedwherehe’dbeen.Andhewenttothebigglacialrocksinthenorthpasture.”
Meglookedscowlinglyatthegarden.NeverbeforehadCharlesWallacesoundedasimplausibleasthis.
Hesaid,“Comeon,”andmovedpastthetallsheavesofcorn,whichhadonlyafewscragglyearsleft.Beyondthecornthesunflowerscaughttheslantingraysoftheafternoonsun,then*goldenfacesreflectingbrilliance.
“Charles,areyouallright?”Megasked.ItwasnotlikeCharlestolosetouchwithreality.Thenshenoticedthathewasbreathingheavily,asifhehadbeenrunning,thoughtheyhadnotbeenwalkingrapidly.Hisfacewaspale,hisforeheadbeadedwithperspiration,asthoughfromover-exertion.
Shedidnotlikethewayhelooked,andsheturnedhermindbacktotheunlikelytaleofdragons,pickingherwayaroundtheluxuriantpumpkinvines,“Charles,whendidyouseethese—dragons?”
“Adollopofdragons,adroveofdragons,adriveofdragons,”CharlesWallacepanted.“AfterIgothomefromschool.MotherwasallupsetbecauseIlookedsuchamess.Mynosewasstillverybloody.”
“Igetupset,too.”“Meg,Motherthinksit’smorethanthebiggerkidspunchingme.”“What’smore?”CharlesWallacescrambledwithunusualclumsinessanddifficultyoverthe
lowstonewallwhichedgedtheorchard.“Igetoutofbreath.”Megsaidsharply,“Why?WhatdidMothersay?”Charleswalkedslowlythroughthehighgrassintheorchard.“Shehasn’t
said.Butit’ssortoflikeradarblippingatme.”Megwalkedbesidehim.Shewastallforherage,andCharlesWallacesmall
forhis.“TherearetimeswhenIwishyoudidn’tpickupradarsignalsquitesowell.”
“Ican’thelpit,Meg.Idon’ttryto.Itjusthappens.Motherthinkssomethingiswrongwithme.”
“Butwhat?”shealmostshouted.CharlesWallacespokeveryquietly.“Idon’tknow.Somethingbadenough
soherworryblipsloudandclear.AndIknowthere’ssomethingwrong.Justtowalkacrosstheorchardlikethisisaneffort,anditshouldn’tbe.Itneverhasbeenbefore.”
“Whendidthisstart?”sheaskedsharply.“Youwereallrightlastweekendwhenwewentwalkinginthewoods.”
“Iknow.I’vebeensortoftiredallautumn,butit’sbeenworsethisweek,andmuchworsetodaythanitwasyesterday.Hey,Meg!Stopblamingyourselfbecauseyoudidn’tnotice.”
Shehadbeendoingpreciselythat.Herhandsfeltcoldwithpanic.Shetriedtopushherfearaway,becauseCharlesWallacecouldreadhissisterevenmoreeasilythanhecouldtheirmother.Hepickedupawindfallapple,lookeditoverforworms,andbitintoit.Hisend-of-summertancouldnotdisguisehisextremepallor,norhisshadowedeyes;whyhadn’tshenoticedthis?Becauseshehadn’twantedto.ItwaseasiertoblameCharlesWallace’spalenessandlethargyonhisproblemsatschool.
“Whydoesn’tMotherhaveadoctorlookatyou,then?Imeanarealdoctor?”“Shehas.”“When?”“Today.”“Whydidn’tyoutellmebefore?”“Iwasmoreinterestedindragons.”“Charles!”“Itwasbeforeyougothomefromschool.Dr.Louisecametohavelunch
withMother—shedoes,quiteoften,anyhow—““Iknow.Goon.”“SowhenIgothomefromschoolshewentoverme,fromtoptotoe.”“Whatdidshesay?”“Nothingmuch.Ican’treadherthewayIcanreadMother.She’slikealittle
bird,twitteringaway,andallthetimeyouknowthatsharpmindofhersisthinkingalongonanotherlevel.She’sverygoodatblockingme.AllIcouldgatherwasthatshethoughtMothermightberightabout—aboutwhateveritis.Andshe’dkeepintouch.”
TheyhadfinishedcrossingtheorchardandCharlesWallaceclimbedupontothewallagainandstoodthere,lookingacrossanunusedpasturewherethere
weretwolargeout-croppingsofglacialrock.“They’regone,”hesaid.“Mydragonsaregone.”
Megstoodonthewallbesidehim.Therewasnothingtoseeexceptthewindblowingthroughthesun-bleachedgrasses,and‘thetwotallrocks,turningpurpleintheautumneveninglight.“Areyousureitwasn’tjusttherocksorshadowsorsomething?”
“Dorocksorshadowslooklikedragons?”“No,but—““Meg,theywererightbytherocks,allsortofclusteredtogether,wings,it
lookedlikehundredsofwings,andeyesopeningandshuttingbetweenthewings,andsomesmokeandlittlespurtsoffire,andIwarnedthemnottosetthepastureonfire.”
“Howdidyouwarnthem?”“Ispoketothem.Inaloudvoice.Andtheflamesstopped.”“Didyougoclose?”“Itdidn’tseemwise.Istayedhereonthewallandwatchedforalongtime.
Theykeptfoldingandunfoldingwingsandsortofwinkingallthoseeyesatme,andthentheyallseemedtohuddletogetherandgotosleep,soIwenthometowaitforyou.Meg!Youdon’tbelieveme.”
Sheasked,flatly,“Well,wherehavetheygone?”“You’venevernotbelievedmebefore.”Shesaid,carefully,“It’snotthatIdon’tbelieveyou.”Inastrangewayshe
didbelievehim.Not,perhaps,thathehadseenactualdragons—butCharlesWallacehadneverbeforetendedtomixfactandfancy.Neverbeforehadheseparatedrealityandillusioninsuchamarkedway.Shelookedathim,sawthathehadasweatshirtonoverhisgrubbyshut.Sheheldherarmsaboutherself,shivered,andsaid—althoughshewasquitewarmenough—“IthinkI’llgobacktothehouseandgetacardigan.Waithere.Iwon’tbelong.Ifthedragonscomeback—“
“Ithinktheywillcomeback.”“Thenkeepthemhereforme.I’llbeasfastasIcan.”CharlesWallacelookedatherlevelly.“Idon’tthinkMotherwantstobe
interruptedrightnow.”“I’mnotgoingtointerrupther.I’mjustgoingtogetmycardigan.”
“Okay,Meg,”hesighed.Shelefthimsittingonthewall,lookingatthetwogreatglacialdeposits,
waitingfordragons,orwhateveritwashethoughthe’dseen.Allright,heknewthatshewasgoingbacktothehousetotalktotheirmother,butaslongasshedidn’tadmititoutloudshefeltthatshemanagedtokeepatleastalittleofherworryfromhim.
Sheburstintothelaboratory.Hermotherwassittingonatalllabstool,notlookingintothemicroscopein
frontofher,notwritingontheclipboardwhichrestedonherknee,justsittingthoughtfully.“Whatisit,Meg?”
ShestartedtoblurtoutCharlesWallace’stalkofdragons,andthathehadneverhaddelusionsbefore,butsinceCharlesWallacehimselfhadnotmentionedthemtotheirmother,itseemedlikeabetrayalforhertodoso,thoughhissilenceaboutthedragonsmayhavebeenbecauseofthepresenceofDr.Louise.
Hermotherrepeated,alittleimpatiently,“Whatisit,Meg?”“What’swrongwithCharlesWallace?”Mrs.Murryputtheclipboarddownonthelabcounterbesidethemicroscope.
“Hehadsometroublewiththebiggerboysagaininschooltoday.”“That’snotwhatImean.”“Whatdoyoumean,Meg?”“HesaidyouhadDr.Colubrahereforhim.”“Louisewashereforlunch,soIthoughtshemightaswellhavealookat
him.”“And?”“Andwhat,Meg?”“What’sthematterwithhim?”“Wedon’tknow,Meg.Notyet,atanyrate.”“Charlessaysyou’reworriedabouthim.”“Iam.Aren’tyou?”“Yes.ButIthoughtitwasallschool.AndnowIdon’tthinkitis.Hegotout
ofbreathjustwalkingacrosstheorchard.Andhe’stoopale.Andheimaginesthings.Andhelooks—Idon’tlikethewayhelooks.”
“NeitherdoI.”
“Whatisit?What’swrong?Isitavirusorsomething?”Mrs.Murryhesitated.“I’mnotsure.”“Mother,please,ifthere’sanythingreallywrongwithCharlesI’mold
enoughtoknow.”“Idon’tknowwhetherthereisornot.NeitherdoesLouise.Whenwefind
outanythingdefinite,I’lltellyou.Ipromiseyouthat.”“You’renothidinganything?”“Meg,there’snousetalkingaboutsomethingI’mnotsureof.Ishouldknow
inafewdays.”Megtwistedherhandstogethernervously.“Youreallyareworried.”Mrs.Murrysmiled.“Motherstendtobe.Whereishenow?”“Oh—Ilefthimonthestonewall—IsaidIwascominginforacardigan.
I’vegottorunbackorhe’llthink—“Withoutfinishingsherushedoutofthelab,grabbedacardiganfromoneofthehooksinthepantry,andranacrossthelawn.
WhenshereachedCharlesWallacehewassittingonthewall,justasshehadlefthim.Therewasnosignofdragons.
Shehadnotreallyexpectedthattherewouldbe.Nevertheless,shewasdisappointed,heranxietyaboutCharlessubtlydeepened.
“WhatdidMothersay?”heasked.“Nothing.”Hislarge,deep-seeingblueeyesfocusedonher.“Shedidn’tmention
mitochondria?Orfarandolae?”“Hunh?Whyshouldshe?”CharlesWallacekickedtherubberheelsofhissneakersagainstthewall,
lookedatMeg,didnotanswer.Megpersisted,“WhyshouldMothermentionmitochondria?Isn’tthat—
talkingaboutthem—whatgotyouintotroubleyourveryfirstdayinschool?”“Iamextremelyinterestedinthem.Andindragons.I’msorrytheyhaven’t
comebackyet.”Hewasverydefinitelychangingthesubject.“Let’swaitawhilelongerforthem.I’dratherfaceafewdragonsanydaythanthekidsintheschoolyard.ThankyouforgoingtoseeMr.Jenkinsonmybehalf,Meg.”
Thatwassupposedtobeadeep,darksecret.“Howdidyouknow?”“Iknew.”Meghunchedhershoulders.“Notthatitdidanygood.”Shehadnotreally
hadmuchhopethatitwould.Mr.Jenkinshadbeen,forseveralyears,theprincipalofthelargeregionalhighschool.Whenhewasmoved,justthatSeptember,tothesmallgradeschoolinthevillage,theofficialstorywasthattheschoolneededupgrading,andMr.Jenkinswastheonlymantodothejob.Therumorwasthathehadn’tbeenabletohandlethewilderelementoveratRegional.Meghadherdoubtswhetherornothecouldhandleanybody,anywhere.AndshewascompletelyconvincedthathewouldneitherunderstandnorlikeCharlesWallace.
ThemorningthatCharlesWallacesetoffforfirstgrade,Megwasfarmorenervousthanhewas.Shecouldnotconcentrateduringherlastclasses,andwhenschoolwasfinallyoverandsheclimbedthehilltothehouseandfoundhimwithapuffedandbleedingupperlipandascrapeacrosshischeek,shehadasulkingfeelingofinevitabilitycombinedwithaburningrage.CharlesWallacehadalwaysbeenthoughtofbythevillagersaspeculiar,andprobablynotquiteallthere.Meg,pickingupmailatthepostoffice,oreggsatthestore,overheardsnatchesofconversations:ThatlittlestMurrykidisaweirdone.Ihearcleverpeopleoftenhavedumbkids.Theysayhecan’teventalk.’
ItwouldhavebeeneasierifCharlesWallacehadactuallybeenstupid.Buthewasn’t,andhewasn’tverygoodatpretendingthathedidn’tknowmorethantheothersix-year-oldsinhisclass.Hisvocabularyitselfwasagainsthim;hehad,infact,notstartedtalkinguntillate,butthenitwasincompletesentences,withnoneofthebabypreliminaries.Infrontofstrangershestillseldomspokeatall—oneofthereasonshewasthoughtdumb;andsuddenlytherehewasinfirstgradeandtalkinglike—likehisparents,orhissister.SandyandDennysgotalongwitheverybody.Itwasn’tsurprisingthatCharleswasresented;everybodyexpectedhimtobebackward,andhetalkedlikeadictionary.
“Now,children”—thefirst-gradeteachersmiledbrightlyatthegaggleofnewfirst-gradersstaringatherthatfirstmorning—“Iwanteachoneofyoutotellmesomethingaboutyourselves.”Shelookedatherlist.“Let’sstartwithMaryAgnes.WhichoneisMaryAgnes?”
Asmallgirlwithonemissingfronttooth,andstraw-coloredhairpulledtightlyintopigtails,announcedthatshelivedonafarmandthatshehadherownchickens;thatmorningtherehadbeenseventeeneggs.
“Verygood,MaryAgnes.Now,let*ssee,howaboutyou,Richard—areyoucalledDicky?”
Afatlittleboystoodup,bobbingandgrinning.
“Whathaveyougottotellus?”“Boysain’tlikegirls,”Dickysaid.“Boysismadedifferent,see,like—““That’sfine,Dicky,justfine.Welllearnmoreaboutthatlater.Now,
Albertina,supposeyoutellussomething.”Albertinawasrepeatingfirstgrade.Shestoodup,almostaheadtallerthan
theothers,andannouncedproudly,“Ourbodiesaremadeupofbonesandskinsesandmuskleandbloodcellsandstufflikethat.”
“Verygood,Albertina.Isn’tthatgood,class?Icanseewe’regoingtohaveagroupofrealscientiststhisyear.Let’sallclapforAlbertina,shallwe?Now,uh”—shelookeddownatherlistagain—“CharlesWallace.AreyoucalledCharlie?”
“No,”hesaid.“CharlesWallace,please.”“Yourparentsarescientists,aren’tthey?”Shedidnotwaitforananswer.
“Let’sseewhatyouhavetotellus.”CharlesWallace(‘Youshouldhaveknownbetter!’Megscoldedhimthat
night)stoodandsaid,“WhatI’minterestedinrightnowarethefarandolaeandthemitochondria.”
“Whatwasthat,Charles?Themightywhat?”“Mitochondria.Theyandthefarandolaecomefromtheprokaryocytes—““Thewhat?”“Well,billionsofyearsagotheyprobablyswamintowhateventually
becameoureukaryoticcellsandthey’vejuststayedthere.TheyhavetheirownDNAandRNA,whichmeansthey’requiteseparatefromus.Theyhaveasymbioticrelationshipwithus,andtheamazingthingisthatwe’recompletelydependentonthemforouroxygen.”
“Now,Charles,supposeyoustopmakingsillythingsup,andthenexttimeIcallonyou,don’ttrytoshowoff.Now,George,youtelltheclasssomething...”
Attheendofthesecondweekofschool,CharlesWallacepaidMeganeveningvisitinheratticbedroom.
“Charles,”shesaid,“can’tyoujustnotsayanythingatall?”CharlesWallace,inyellowfootedpajamas,hisfreshwoundsband-aided,his
smallnoselookingpuffyandred,layonthefootofMeg’sbigbrassbed,hisheadpillowedontheshinyblackbulkofthedog,Fortinbras.Hesoundedweary,andlethargic,althoughshehadn’tnoticedthisatthetime.“Itdoesn’twork.
Nothingworks.IfIdon’ttalk,I’msulking.IfItalkIsaysomethingwrong.I’vefinishedtheworkbook—theteachersaidyoumust’vehelpedme—andIknowthereaderbyheart.”
Meg,circlingherkneeswithherarms,lookeddownatboyanddog;Fortinbraswasstrictlynotallowedonbeds,butthisrulewasignoredintheattic.“Whydon’ttheymoveyouuptosecondgrade?”
“Thatwouldbeevenworse.They’rethatmuchbiggerthanI.”Yes.Sheknewthatwastrue.SoshedecidedtogoseeMr.Jenkins.Sheboardedthehigh-schoolbusas
usualatseveno’clock,inthegrey,uninvitinglightofanearlymorningbrewinganor’easter.Thegrade-schoolbus,whichhadnotnearlysofartogo,leftanhourlater.Whenthehigh-schoolbusmadeitsfirst.stopinthevillagesheslippedoff,andthenwalkedthetwomilestothegradeschool.Itwasanold,inadequatebuilding,paintedthetraditionalred,overcrowdedandunderstaffed.Itcertainlydidneedupgrading,andtaxeswerebeingraisedforanewschool.
Sheslippedthroughthesidedoorwhichthecustodianopenedearly.Shecouldhearthebuzzofhiselectricfloorpolisherinthefronthallbythestill-lockedentrancedoors,andundercoverofitsbusysoundsheranacrossthehallanddartedintoasmallbroomclosetandleaned,toonoisilyforcomfort,againstthehangingbroomsanddrymops.TheclosetsmeltedmustyanddustyandshehopedshecouldkeepfromsneezinguntilMr.Jenkinswasinhisofficeandhissecretaryhadbroughthimhisritualmugofcoffee.Sheshiftedpositionandleanedagainstthecorner,whereshecouldseetheglasstopofthedoortoMr.Jenkins’sofficethroughthenarrowcrack.
Shewasstuffy-nosedandcramp-leggedwhenthelightintheofficefinallywenton.Thenshewaitedforwhatseemedalldaybutwasmorelikehalfanhour,whileshelistenedtotheclickofthesecretary’sheelsonthepolishedtilefloor,thentheroarofchildrenenteringtheschoolasthedoorswereunlocked.ShethoughtofCharlesWallacebeingpushedalongbythegreatwaveofchildren,mostlymuchbiggerthanhewas.
It’slikethemobafterJuliusCaesar,shethought,—onlyCharlesisn’tmuchlikeCaesar.ButI’llbetlifewassimplerwhenallGaulwasdividedinthreeparts.
Thebellscreamedforthebeginningofclasses.Thesecretaryclickedalongthecorridoragain.ThatwouldbewithMr.Jenkins’scoffee.Thehighheelsreceded.Megwaitedforwhatshecalculatedwasfiveminutes,thenemerged,
pressingherforefingeragainstherupperliptostifleasneeze.ShecrossedthecorridorandknockedonMr.Jenkins’sdoor,justasthesneezeburstoutanyhow.
Heseemedsurprisedtoseeher,aswellhemight,andnotatallpleased,thoughhisactualwordswere,“MayIasktowhatIowethispleasure?”
“Ineedtoseeyou,please,Mr.Jenkins.”“Whyaren’tyouinschool?”“Iam.Thisschool.”“Kindlydon’tberude,Meg.Iseeyouhaven’tchangedanyoverthesummer.
Ihadhopedyouwouldnotbeoneofmyproblemsthisyear.Haveyouinformedanybodyofyourwhereabouts?”Theearlymorninglightglintedoffhisspectacles,veilinghiseyes.Megpushedherownspectaclesuphernose,butcouldnotreadhisexpression;asusual,shethought,helookedasthoughhesmelledsomethingunpleasant.
Hesniffed.“Iwillhavemysecretarydriveyoutoschool.Thatwillmeanthelossofherservicesforafullhalfday.”
“I’llhitchhike,thanks.”“Compoundingonemisdemeanorwithanother?Inthisstate,hitchhiking
happenstobeagainstthelaw.”“Mr.Jenkins,Ididn’tcometotalktoyouabouthitchhiking,Icametotalkto
youaboutCharlesWallace.”“Idon’tappreciateyourinterference,Margaret.”“Thebiggerboysarebullyinghim.They’llreallyhurthimifyoudon’tstop
them.”“Ifanybodyisdissatisfiedwithmyhandlingofthesituationandwishesto
discussitwithme,Ithinkitshouldbeyourparents.”Megtriedtocontrolherself,buthervoicerosewithfrustratedanger.“Maybe
they’reclevererthanIamandknowitwon’tdoanygood.Oh,please,please,Mr.Jenkins,IknowpeoplehavethoughtCharlesWallaceisn’tverybright,buthe’sreally—“
Hecutacrossherwords.“We’verunIQtestsonallthefirst-graders.Yourlittlebrother’sIQisquitesatisfactory.”
“Youknowit’smorethanthat,Mr.Jenkins.Myparentshaveruntestsonhim,too,allkindsoftests.HisIQissohighit’suntestablebynormalstandards.”
“Hisperformancegivesnoindicationofthis.”“Don’tyouunderstand,he’stryingtoholdbacksotheboyswon’tbeathim
up?Hedoesn’tunderstandthem,andtheydon’tunderstandhim.Howmanyfirst-gradersknowaboutfarandolae?”
“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout,Margaret.IdoknowthatCharlesWallacedoesnotseemtometobeverystrong.”
“He’sperfectlyallright!”“Heisextremelypale,andtherearedarkcirclesunderhiseyes.”“Howwouldyoulookifpeoplepunchedyouinthenoseandkeptgivingyou
blackeyesjustbecauseyouknowmorethantheydo?”“Ifhe’ssobright”—Mr.Jenkinslookedcoldlyatherthroughthemagnifying
lensesofhisspectacles—“Iwonderyourparentsbothertosendhimtoschoolatall?”
“Ifthereweren’talawaboutit,theyprobablywouldn’t.”Now,standingbyCharlesWallaceonthestonewall,lookingatthetwo
glacialrockswherenodragonslurked,MegrecalledMr.Jenkins’swordsaboutCharlesWallace’spallor,andshivered.
Charlesasked,“Whydopeoplealwaysmistrustpeoplewhoaredifferent?AmIreallythatdifferent?”
Meg,movingthetipofhertongueoverherteethwhichhadonlyrecentlylosttheirbraces,lookedathimaffectionatelyandsadly.“Oh,Charles,Idon’tknow.I’myoursister.I’veknownyoueversinceyouwereborn.I’mtooclosetoyoutoknow.”Shesatonthestonewall,firstcarefullycheckingtherocks:alarge,gentle,andcompletelyharmlessblacksnakelivedinthestonewall.Shewasaspecialpetofthetwins,andtheyhadwatchedhergrowfromasmallsnakelettoherpresentflourishingsize.ShewasnamedLouise,afterDr.LouiseColubra,becausethetwinshadlearnedjustenoughLatintopounceontheoddlastname.
“Dr.Snake,”Dennyshadsaid.“Weirdo.”“It’sanicename,”Sandysaid.“We’llnameoursnakeafterher.Louisethe
Larger.”“WhytheLarger?”“Whynot?”“Doesshehavetobelargerthananything?”
“Sheis.”“Shecertainlyisn’tlargerthanDr.Louise.”Dennysbristled.“LouisetheLargerisverylargeforasnakewholivesina
gardenwall,andDr.Louiseisaverysmalldoctor—Imean,she’satinyperson.Isupposeasadoctorshe’sprettymammoth.”
“Well,doctorsdon’thavetobeanysize.Butyou’reright,Den,sheistiny.Andoursnakeisbig.”Thetwinsseldomdisagreedaboutanythingforlong.
“Theonlytroubleis,she’smorelikeabirdthanasnake.”“Didn’tsnakesandbirds,waybackinevolution,didn’ttheyevolve
originallyfromthesamephylum,orwhateveryoucallit?Anyhow,Louiseisaverygoodnameforoursnake.”
Dr.Louise,fortunately,washighlyamused.Snakesweremisunderstoodcreatures,shetoldthetwins,andshewashonoredtohavesuchahandsomeonenamedafterher.Andsnakes,sheadded,wereonthecaduceus,whichistheemblemfordoctors,soitwasallmostappropriate.
LouisetheLargerhadgrownconsiderablysinceherbaptism,andMeg,thoughnotactivelyafraidofher,wasalwayscarefultolookforLouisebeforeshesat.Louise,atthismoment,wasnowheretobeseen,soMegrelaxedandturnedherthoughtsagaintoCharlesWallace.“You’realotbrighterthanthetwins,butthetwinsarefarfromdumb.Howdotheymanage?”
CharlesWallacesaid,“Iwishthey’dtellme.”“Theydon’ttalkatschoolthewaytheydoathome,foronething.”“IthoughtifIwasinterestedinmitochondriaandfarandolae,otherpeople
wouldbe,too.”“Youwerewrong.”“Ireallyaminterestedinthem.Whyisthatsopeculiar?”“Idon’tsupposeitissopeculiarforthesonofaphysicistandabiologist.”“Mostpeoplearen’t.Interested,Imean.”“Theyaren’tchildrenoftwoscientists,either.Ourparentsprovideuswithall
kindsofdisadvantages.I’llneverbeasbeautifulasMother.”CharlesWallacewastiredofreassuringMeg.“Andtheincrediblething
aboutfarandolaeistheirsize.”Megwasthinkingaboutherhair,theordinarystraightbrownofafield
mouse,asagainsthermother’sauburnwaves.“Whataboutit?”
“They’resosmallthatallanyonecandoispostulatethem;eventhemostpowerfulmicro-electronmicroscopecan’tshowthem.Butthey’reimportanttous—we’ddieifwedidn’thavefarandolae.Butnobodyatschoolisremotelyinterested.Ourteacherhasthemindofagrasshopper.Asyouweresaying,it’snotanadvantagehavingfamousparents.”
“Iftheyweren’tfamous—youbeteverybodyknowswhenL.A.calls,orFathermakesatriptotheWhiteHouse—they’dbeinforittoo7We’realldifferent,ourfamily.Exceptthetwins.Theydoallright.Maybebecausethey’renormal.Orknowhowtoactit.ButthenIwonderwhatnormalis,anyhow,orisn’t?Whyareyousointerestedinfarandolae?”
“Mother’sworkingonthem.”“She’sworkedonlotsofthingsandyouhaven’tbeenthisinterested.”“Ifshereallyprovestheirexistence,she’llprobablygettheNobelPrize.”“So?That’snotwhat’sbuggingyouaboutthem.”x“Meg,ifsomethinghappenstoourfarandolae—well,itwouldbe
disastrous.”“Why?”Megshivered,suddenlycold,andbuttonedhercardigan.Clouds
werescuddingacrossthesky,andwiththemarisingwind.“Imentionedmitochondria,didn’tI?”“Youdid.Whataboutthem?”“Mitochondriaaretinylittleorganismslivinginourcells.Thatgivesyouan
ideaofhowtinytheyare,doesn’tit?”“Enough.”“Ahumanbeingisawholeworldtoamitochondrion,justthewayourplanet
istous.Butwe’remuchmoredependentonourmitochondriathantheearthisonus.Theearthcouldgetalongperfectlywellwithoutpeople,butifanythinghappenedtoourmitochondria,we’ddie.”
“Whyshouldanythinghappentothem?”CharlesWallacegaveasmallshrug.Inthedarkeninglighthelookedvery
pale.“Accidentshappentopeople.Ordiseases.Thingscanhappentoanything.ButwhatI’vesortofpickedupfromMotheristhatquitealotofmitochondriaareinsomekindoftroublebecauseoftheirfarandolae.”
“HasMotheractuallytoldyouallthis?”“Someofit.TherestI’vejust—gathered.”
CharlesWallacedidgatherthingsoutofhismother’smind,outofMeg’smind,asanotherchildmightgatherdaisiesinafield.“Whatarefarandolae,then?”Sheshiftedpositiononthehardrocksofthewall.
“Farandolaeliveinamitochondrionsortofthesamewayamitochondrionlivesinahumancell.They’regeneticallyindependentoftheirmitochondria,justasmitochondriaareofus.Andifanythinghappenstothefarandolaeinamitochondrion,themitochondriongets—getssick.Andprobablydies.”
AdryleafseparatedfromitsstemanddriftedpastMeg’scheek.“Whyshouldanythinghappentothem?”sherepeated.
CharlesWallacerepeated,too,“Accidentshappentopeople,don’tthey?Anddisease.Andpeoplekillingeachotherinwars.”
“Yes,butthat’speople.Whyareyougoingonsoaboutmitochondriaandfarandolae?”
“Meg,Mother’sbeenworkinginherlab,nightandday,almostliterally,forseveralweeksnow.You’venoticedthat.”
“Sheoftendoeswhenshe’sontosomething.”“She’sontofarandolae.Shethinksshe’sprovedtheirexistencebystudying
somemitochondria,mitochondriawhicharedying.”“You’renottalkingaboutallthisstuffatschool,areyou?”“Idolearnsomethings,Meg.Youaren’treallylisteningtome.”“I’mworriedaboutyou.”“Thenlisten.ThereasonMother’sbeeninherlabsomuchtryingtofindthe
effectoffarandolaeonmitochondriaisthatshethinksthere’ssomethingwrongwithmymitochondria.”
“What?”Megjumpeddownfromthestonewallandswungaroundtofaceherbrother.
Hespokeveryquietly,sothatshehadtobenddowntohear.“Ifmymitochondriagetsick,thensodoI.”
AllthefearwhichMeghadbeentryingtoholdbackthreatenedtobreakloose.“Howseriousisit?CanMothergiveyousomethingforit?”
“Idon’tknow.Shewon’ttalktome.I’monlyguessing.She’stryingtoshutmeouttillsheknowsmore,andIcanonlygetinthroughthechinks.Maybeit’snotreallyserious.Maybeit’salljustschool;Ireallydogetpunchedorknockeddownalmosteveryday.It’senoughtomakemefeel—Hey—lookatLouise!”
Megturned,followinghisgaze.LouisetheLargerwasslitheringalongthestonesofthewalltowardsthem,movingrapidly,sinuously,herblackcurvesshimmeringpurpleandsilverintheautumnlight.Megcried,“Charles!Quick!”
Hedidnotmove.“Shewon’thurtus.”“Charles,run!She’sgoingtoattack!”ButLouisestoppedheradvance,justafewfeetfromCharlesWallace,and
raisedherselfup,uncoilinguntilshestood,barelyonthelastfewinchesofherlength,rearingupandlookingaroundexpectantly.
CharlesWallacesaid,“There’ssomeonenear.SomeoneLouiseknows.”“The—thedragons?”“Idon’tknow.Ican’tseeanything.Hush,letmefeel.”Heclosedhiseyes,
nottoshutoutLouise,nottoshutoutMeg,butinorder1toseewithhisinnereye.“Thedragons—Ithink—andaman,butmorethanaman—verytalland—“Heopenedhiseyes,andpointedintotheshadowswherethetreescrowdedthicklytogether.“Look!”
Megthoughtshesawadimgiantshapemovingtowardsthem,butbeforeshecouldbesure,Fortinbrascamegallopingacrosstheorchard,barkingwildly.Itwasnothisangrybark,buttheloudannouncingbarkwithwhichhegreetedeitheroftheMurryparentswhentheyhadbeenaway.Then,withhisheavyblacktailliftedstraightoutbehindhim,hisnosepointingandquivering,hestalkedthelengthoftheorchard,jumpedthewalltothenorthpasture,andran,stillsniffing,tooneofthebigglacialrocks.
CharlesWallace,pantingwitheffort,followedhim.tiesgoingtowheremydragonswere!Comeon,Meg,maybehe’sfound
fewmets!”Shehurriedafterboyanddog.“Howwouldyouknowadragondropping?
Fewmetsprobablylooklikebiggerandbettercowpies.”CharlesWallacewasdownonhishandsandknees.“Look.”Onthemossaroundtherockwasasmalldriftoffeathers.Theydidnotlook
likebirdfeathers.Theywereextraordinarilysoftandsparklingatthesametime;andbetweenthefeatherswerebitsofglintingsilver-gold,leaf-shapedscaleswhich,Megthought,mightwellbelongtodragons.
“Yousee,Meg!Theywerehere!Mydragonswerehere!”
2ARipintheGalaxy.WhenMegandCharlesWallacereturnedtothehouse,silently,eachholding
strangeandnewthoughts,eveningwasmovinginwiththewind.Thetwinswerewaitingforthem,andwantedCharlesWallacetogooutinthelastofthelighttoplaycatch.
“It’stoodarkalready,”CharlesWallacesaid.“We’vegotafewminutes.Comeon,Charles.Youmaybebright,butyou’re
slowatplayingball.IcouldpitchwhenIwassix,andyoucan’tevencatchwithoutfumbling.”
DennyspattedCharles,apatmorelikeawhack.“He’simproving.Comeon,we’veonlygotafewminutes.”
CharlesWallaceshookhishead.Hedidnotmentionthathedidnotfeelwell;hejustsaid,firmly,“Nottonight.”
Megleftthetwinsstillarguingwithhim,andwentintothekitchen.Mrs.Murrywasjustcominginfromthelaboratory,andhermindwasstillonherwork.Shepeeredvaguelyintotherefrigerator.
Megconfrontedher,“Mother,CharlesWallacethinkssomethingiswrongwithhismitochondriaorfarandolaeorsomething.”
Mrs.Murryshuttherefrigeratordoor.“SometimesCharlesWallacethinkstoomuch.”
“WhatdoesDr.Colubrathink?Aboutthismitochondriabit?”“Thatit’sapossibility.Louisethinksthebadflustrainthisautumn,which
hascausedalotofdeaths,maynotbefluatall,butmitochondritis.”“Andthat’swhatCharlesmaybehas?”“Idon’tknow,Meg.I’mtryingtofindout.WhenIknowsomething,Iwill
tellyou.I’vealreadysaidthat.Meanwhile,letmealone.”Megtookastepbackwards,satdownononeofthediningchairs.Hermother
nevertalkedinthatcold,shutting-outwaytoherchildren.Itmustmeanthatshewasveryworriedindeed.
Mrs.MurryturnedtowardsMegwithanapologeticsmile.“Sorry,Megatron.Ididn’tmeantobesharp.I’minthedifficultpositionofknowingmoreaboutthepossibleailmentsofmitochondriathanalmostanybodyelsetoday.Ididn’texpecttobeconfrontedwiththeresultsofmyworkquitesosoon.AndIstilldon’tknowenoughtotellyou—or.Louise—anythingdefinite.Meanwhile,
there’snopointinourgettingallworriedunlessweknowthere’sarealreason.Rightnowwe’dbetterconcentrateonCharlesWallace’sproblemsatschool.”
“Ishewellenoughtogotoschool?”“Ithinkso.Fornow.Idon’twanttotakehimoutuntilIhaveto.”“Whynot?”“He’djusthavetogobackeventually,Meg,andthenthingswouldbeharder
thanever.Ifhecanjustgetthroughthesefirstweeks—““Mother,nobodyaroundherehaseverknownasix-year-oldboylike
Charles.”“He’sextremelyintelligent.Buttherewasadaywhenitwasn’tunusualfora
twelve-orthirteen-year-oldtograduatefromHarvard,orOxfordorCambridge.”“It’sunusualtoday.AndyouandFathercanhardlysendhimtoHarvardat
six.Anyhow,itisn’tjustthathe’sintelligent.Howdoesheknowwhatwe’rethinkingandfeeling?Idon’tknowhowmuchyou’vetoldhim,butheknowsanawfullotaboutmitochondriaandfarandolae.”
“I’vetoldhimareasonableamount.”“Heknowsmorethanareasonableamount.Andheknowsyou’reworried
abouthim.”Mrs.Murryperchedononeofthehighstoolsbythekitchencounterwhich
dividedtheworkareafromtherestofthebright,ramblydiningandstudyingroom.Shesighed,“You’reright,Meg.CharlesWallacenotonlyhasagoodmind,hehasextraordinarypowersofintuition.Ifhecan-learntodisciplineandchannelthemwhenhegrowsup—ifhe—“Shebrokeoff.“Ihavetothinkaboutgettingdinner.”
Megknewwhentostoppushinghermother.“I’llhelp.What’rewehaving?”ShedidnotmentionCharlesWallace’sdragons.ShedidnotmentionLouisetheLarger’sstrangebehavior,northeshadowofwhateveritwastheyhadnotquiteseen.
“Oh,spaghetti’seasy”—Mrs.Murrypushedacurlofdarkredhairbackfromherforehead—“andgoodonanautumnnight.”
“Andwe’vegotallthetomatoesandpeppersandstufffromthetwins’garden.Mother,Ilovethetwinsevenwhentheygetinmyhair,butCharles—“
“Iknow,Meg.YouandCharleshavealwayshadaveryspecialrelationship.”
“Mother,Ican’tstandwhat’shappeningtohimatschool.”
“NeithercanI,Meg.”“Thenwhatareyoudoingaboutit?”“We’retryingtodonothing.Itwouldbeeasy—fornowtotakeCharlesout
ofschool.Wethoughtaboutthatimmediately,evenbeforehe—ButCharlesWallaceisgoingtohavetoliveinaworldmadeupofpeoplewhodon’tthinkatallinanyofthewaysthathedoes,andthesoonerhestartslearningtogetalongwiththem,thebetter.NeitheryounorCharleshastheabilitytoadaptthatthetwinsdo.”
“Charlesisalotbrighterthanthetwins.”“Alifeformwhichcan’tadaptdoesn’tlastverylong.”“Istilldon’tlikeit.”“NeitherdoyourfatherandI,Meg.Bearwithus.Remember,youdohavea
tendencytorushinwhenthebestthingtodoiswaitandbepatientforawhile.”“I’mnotintheleastpatient.”“Isthatformyinformation?”Mrs.Murrytooktomatoes,onions,greenand
redpeppers,garlicandleeks,outofthevegetablebin.Then,startingtosliceonionsintoalarge,blackironpot,shesaidthoughtfully,“Youknow,Meg,youwentthroughaprettyroughtimeatschoolyourself.”
“NotasbadasCharles.AndI’mnotasbrightasCharlesexceptmaybeinmath.”
“Possiblyyou’renot—thoughyoudotendtounderestimateyourownparticularcapacities.WhatI’mgettingatisthatyoudoseem,thisyear,tobefindingschoolmoderatelybearable.”
“Mr.Jenkinsisn’tthereanymore.AndCalvinO’Keefeis.Calvin’simportant.He’sthebasketballstarandpresidentoftheseniorclassandeverything.AnybodyCalvinlikesissortofprotectedbyhis—hisaura.”
“WhydoyousupposeCalvinlikesyou?”“Notbecauseofmybeauty,that’sforsure.”“Buthedoeslikeyou,doesn’the,Meg?”“Well,yes,Iguessso,butCalvinlikeslotsofpeople.Andhecouldhaveany
girlin‘schoolifhewantedto.”“Buthechoseyou,didn’the?”Megcouldfeelherselfflushing.Sheputherhandsuptohercheeks.“Well.
Yes.Butit’sdifferent.It’sbecauseofsomeofthethingswe’vebeenthrough
together.Andwe’refriend-friends—Imean,we’renotlikemostoftheotherkids.”,
“I’mgladyou’re-friend-friends.I’vebecomeveryfondofthatskinny,carrot-headedyoungman.”
Meglaughed.“IthinkCalvinconfusesyouwithPallasAthene.You’rehisabsoluteideal.Andhelikesallofus.Hisownfamily’scertainlyamess.Ireallythinkhelikesmeonlybecauseofourfamily.”
Mrs.Murrysighed.“Stopbeingself-deprecating,Meg.”“MaybeatleastIcanlearntocookaswellasyoudo.Didyouknowitwas
oneofCalvin’sbrotherswhobeatCharlesWallaceuptoday?Ibethe’supset—Idon’tmeanWhippy,hecouldn’tcareless—Calvin.Somebody’sboundtohavetoldhim.”
“Doyouwanttocallhim?”“Notme.NotCalvin.Ijusthavetowait.Maybehe’llcomeoveror
something.”Shesighed.“Iwishlifedidn’thavetobesocomplicated.DoyousupposeI’lleverbeadoublePh.D.likeyou,Mother?”
Mrs.Murrylookedupfromslicingpeppers,andlaughed.“It’sreallynottheanswertoallproblems.Thereareothersolutions.AtthispointI’mmoreinterestedinknowingwhetherornotI’veputtoomanyredpeppersinthespaghettisauce;I’velostcount.”
TheyhadjustsatdowntodinnerwhenMr.MurryphonedtotellthemthathewasgoingdirectlyfromWashingtontoBrookhavenforaweek.Suchtripswerenotunusualforeitheroftheirparents,butrightnowanythingthattookeitherherfatherormotherawaystruckMegassinister.Withoutmuchconvictionshesaid,“Ihopehehasfun.Helikeslotsofthepeoplethere.”Butshefeltapanickydependenceonhavingbothherparentshomeatnight.Itwasn’tonlybecauseofherfearsforCharlesWallace;itwasthatsuddenlythe.wholeworldWasunsafeanduncertain.Severalhousesnearbyhadbeenbrokenintothatautumn,andwhilenothingofgreatvaluehadbeentaken,drawershadbeenemptiedwithcasualmaliciousness,fooddumpedonliving-roomfloors,upholsteryslashed.Eventheirsafelittlevillagewasrevealingitselftobeunpredictableandirrationalandprecarious,andwhileMeghadalreadybeguntounderstandthiswithhermind,shehadneverbeforefeltitwiththewholeofherself.Nowacoldawarenessoftheuncertaintyofalllife,nomatterhowcarefultheplanning,hollowedemptilyinthepitofherstomach.Sheswallowed.
CharlesWallacelookedatherandsaid,unsmilingly,“Thebestlaidplansof
miceandmen...”“Gangaftagley,”Sandyfinished.“Manproposes,Goddisposes,”Dennysadded,nottobeoutdone.Thetwinsheldouttheirplatesformorespaghetti,neitheroneeverhaving
beenknowntolosehisappetite.“WhydoesFatherhavetostayawholeweek?”Sandyasked.
“It’shiswork,afterall,”Dennyssaid.“Mother,Ithinkyoucouldhaveputmorehotpeppersinthesauce.”
“He’sbeenawayalotthisautumn.Heoughttostayhomewithhisfamilyatleastsomeofthetime.Ithinkthesauceisokay.”
“Ofcourseit’sokay.Ijustlikeitalittlehotter.”Megwasnotthinkingaboutspaghetti,althoughshewassprinklingParmesan
overhers.ShewonderedwhattheirmotherwouldsayifCharlesWallacetoldherabouthisdragons.Iftherereallyweredragons,orareasonablefacsimilethereof,inthenorthpasture,oughtn’ttheirparentstoknow?
Sandysaid,“WhenIgrowupI’mgoingtobeabankerandmakemoney.Someoneinthisfamilyhastostayintherealworld.”
“Notthatwedon’tthinkscienceistherealworld,Mother,”Dennyssaid,“butyouandFatheraren’tpracticalscientists,you’retheoreticalscientists.”
Mrs.Murrydemurred,“I’mnotwhollyimpractical,youknow,Sandy,andneitherisyourfather.”
“Spendinghoursandhourspeeringintoyourmicro-electronmicroscope,andlisteningtothatmicro-sonarwhatsitisn’tpractical,”Sandyannounced.
“Youjustlookatthingsnobodyelsecansee,”Dennysadded,“andlistentothingsnobodyelsecanhear,andthinkaboutthem.”
Megdefendedhermother.“Itwouldbeagoodideaifmorepeopleknewhowtothink.AfterMotherthinksaboutsomethinglongenough,thensheputsitintopractice.Orsomeoneelsedoes.”
CharlesWallacecockedhisheadwithapleasedlook.“Doespracticalmeanthatsomethingworksoutinpractice?”
Hismothernodded.“Soitdoesn’tmatterifMothersitsandthinks.OrifFatherspendsweeks
overoneequation.Evenifhewritesitonthetablecloth.Hisequationsarepracticalifsomeoneelsemakesthemworkoutinpractice.”Hereachedinhis
pocket,asthoughinanswertoMeg’sthoughtsaboutthedragons,anddrewoutafeather,notabirdfeather,butastrangeglittercatchingthelight.“Allright,mypracticalbrothers,whatisthis?”
Sandy,sittingnexttoCharlesWallace,bentoverthedragonfeather.“Afeather.”
Dennysgotupandwentaroundthetablesothathecouldsee.“Letme—“CharlesWallaceheldthefeatherbetweenthem.“Whatkindisit?”“Hey,thisismostpeculiar!”Sandytouchedthebaseofthefeather.“Idon’t
thinkit’sfromabird.”“Whynot?”CharlesWallaceasked.“Therachisisn’tright.”“Thewhat?”Megasked.“Therachis.Sortofpartofthequill.Therachisshouldbehollow,andthisis
solid,andseemstobemetallic.Hey,Charles,where’dyougetthisthing?”CharlesWallacehandedthefeathertohismother.Shelookedatitcarefully.
“Sandy’sright.Therachisisn’tlikeabird’s.”Dennyssaid,“Thenwhat—“CharlesWallaceretrievedthefeatherandputitbackinhispocket.“Itwason
thegroundbythebigrocksinthenorthpasture.Notjustthisonefeather.Quiteafewothers.”
Megsuppressedaslightlyhystericalgiggle.“CharlesandIthinkitmaybefewmets.”
Sandyturnedtoherwithinjureddignity.“Fewmetsaredragondroppings.”Dennyssaid,“Don’tbesilly.”Then,“Doyouknowwhatitis,Mother?”Sheshookherhead.“Whatdoyouthinkitis,Charles?”CharlesWallace,asheoccasionallydid,retreatedintohimself.WhenMeg
haddecidedhewasn’tgoingtoansweratall,hesaid,“It’ssomethingthat’snotinSandy’sandDennys’spracticalworld.WhenIfindoutmore,I’lltellyou.”Hesoundedveryliketheirmother.
“Okay,then.”Dennyshadlostinterest.Hereturnedtohischair.“DidFathertellyouwhyhehastogorushingofftoBrookhaven,orisitanotherofthosetop-secretclassified:things?”
Mrs.Murrylookeddownatthecheckedtablecloth,andattheremainsofanequationwhichhadnotcomeoutinthewash;doodlingequationsonanything
availablewasahabitofwhichshecouldnotbreakherhusband.“It’snotreallysecret.There’vebeenseveralbitsaboutitinthepapersrecently.”
“Aboutwhat?”Sandyasked.“There’sbeenanunexplainablephenomenon,notinourpartofthegalaxy,
butfaracrossit,andinseveralothergalaxies—well,theeasiestwaytoexplainitisthatournewsupersensitivesonicinstrumentshavebeenpickingupstrangesounds,soundswhicharen’tonanynormalregister,butmuchhigher.Aftersuchasound—acosmicscream,theTimesrathersensationallycalledit—thereappearstobeasmallripinthegalaxy.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”Dennysasked.“Itseemstomeanthatseveralstarshavevanished.”“Vanishedwhere?”“That’stheoddpart.Vanished.Completely.Wherethestarswerethereis,as
farasourinstrumentscandetect,nothing.YourfatherwasoutinCaliforniaseveralweeksago,youremember,atMountPalomar.”
“Butthingscan’tjustvanish,”Sandysaid.“Wehaditinschool—thebalanceofmatter.”
Theirmotheradded,veryquietly,“Itseemstobegettingunbalanced.”“Youmeanliketheecology?”“No.Imeanthatmatteractuallyseemstobebeingannihilated.”Dennyssaidflatly,“Butthat’simpossible.”“E=MC2,”Sandysaid.“Mattercanbeconvertedintoenergy,andenergy
intomatter.Youhavetohaveoneortheother.”Mrs.Murrysaid,“Thusfar,Einstein’slawhasneverbeendisproved.Butit’s
comingintoquestion.”“Nothingness—“Dennyssaid.“That’simpossible.”“Onewouldhopeso.”“Andthat’swhatFather’sgoingoffabout?”“Yes,toconsultwithseveralotherscientists,ShastifromIndia,ShenShu
fromChina—you’veheardofthem.”Outsidethedining-roomwindowscameasuddenbrilliantflashoflight,
followedbyaloudclapofthunder.Thewindowsrattled.Thekitchendoorburstopen.Everybodyjumped.
Megsprangup,cryingnervously,“Oh,Mother—“
“Sitdown,Meg.You’veheardthunderbefore.”“You’resureit’snotoneofthosecosmicthings?”Sandyshutthedoor.Mrs.Murrywascalmlyreassuring.“Positive.They’recompletelyinaudible
tohumanears.”Lightningflashedagain.Thunderboomed.“Asamatteroffact,thereareonlytwoinstrumentsintheworlddelicateenoughtopickupthesound,whichisincrediblyhigh-pitched.It’sperfectlypossiblethatit’sbeengoingonforbillennia,andonlynowareourinstrumentscapableofrecordingit.”
“Birdscanhearsoundswayaboveournormalpitch,”Sandysaid,“Imean,wayupthescale,thatwecan’thearatall.”
“Birdscan’thearthis.”Dennyssaid,“Iwonderifsnakescanhearashighapitchasbirds?”“Snakesdon’thaveears,”Sandycontradicted.“So?Theyfeelvibrationsandsoundwaves.IthinkLouisehearsallkindsof
thingsoutofhumanrange.What’sfordessert?”Meg’svoicewasstilltense.“Wedon’tusuallyhavethunderstormsin
October,”“Pleasecalmdown,Meg.”Mrs.Murrystartedclearingthetable.“Ifyou’ll
stopandthink,you’llrememberthatwe’vehadanunseasonablestormforeverymonthintheyear.”
Sandysaid,“WhydoesMegalwaysexaggerateeverything?Whydoesshehavetobesocosmic?What’sfordessert?”
“Idon’t—“Megstarteddefensively,thenjumpedastherainbegantopeltagainstthewindows.
“There’ssomeicecreaminthefreezer,”Mrs.Murrysaid.“Sorry,Ihaven’tbeenthinkingaboutdesserts.”
“Meg’ssupposedtomakedesserts,”Dennyssaid.“Notthatweexpectpiesoranything,Meg,butevenyoucan’tgotoowrongwithJell-O.”
CharlesWallacecaughtMeg’seye,andsheclosedhermouth.Heputhishandinthepocketofhisrobeagain,thoughthistimehedidnotproducethefeather,andgaveherasmall,privatesmile.Hemayhavebeenthinkingabouthisdragons,buthehadalsobeenlisteningcarefully,bothtotheconversationandtothestorm,hisfairheadtiltedslightlytooneside.“Thisrippinginthegalaxy,
Mother—doesithaveanyeffectonourownsolarsystem?”“That,”Mrs.Murryreplied,“iswhatwewouldallliketoknow.”Sandybrushedthisasideimpatiently.“It’sallmuchtoocomplicatedforme.
I’msurebankingisalotsimpler.”“Andmorelucrative,”Dennysadded.Thewindowsshookinthewind.Thetwinslookedthroughthedarknessat
theslashingrain.“It’sagoodthingwebroughtinsomuchstufffromthegardenbefore
dinner.”“Thisisalmosthail.”Megaskednervously,“Isitdangerous,this—thisrippinginthesky,or
whateveritis?”“Meg,wereallyknownothingaboutit.Itmayhavebeengoingonallalong,
andweonlynowhavetheinstrumentstorecordit.”“Likefarandolae,”CharlesWallacesaid.“Wetendtothinkthingsarenew
becausewe’vejustdiscoveredthem.”“Butisitdangerous?”Megrepeated.“Meg,wedon’tknowenoughaboutityet.That’swhyit’simportantthat
yourfatherandsomeoftheotherphysicistsgettogetheratonce.”“Butitcouldbedangerous?”“Anythingcanbedangerous.”Meglookeddownattheremainsofherdinner.Dragonsandripsinthesky.
LouiseandFortinbrasgreetingsomethinglargeandstrange.CharlesWallacepaleandlistless.Shedidnotlikeanyofit.“I’lldothedishes,”shetoldhermother.
Theycleanedupthekitcheninsilence.Mrs.Murryhadsentthereluctanttwinstopracticefortheschoolorchestra,Dennysontheflute,whichheplayedwell,accompaniedbySandy,lessskillfully,onthepiano.Butitwasapleasant,familiarnoise,andMegrelaxedintoit.Whenthedishwasherwashumming,thepotsandpanspolishedandhungontheirhooks,shewentuptoheratticbedroomtodoherhomework.Thisroomwassupposedtobeherown,privateplace,anditwouldhavebeenperfectexceptforthefactthatitwasseldomreallyprivate:thetwinskepttheirelectrictrainsinthebig,opensectionoftheattic;theping-pongtablewasthere,andanythinganybodydidn’twantarounddownstairsbutdidn’twanttothrowaway.AlthoughMeg’sroomwasatthefarendofthe
attic,itwaseasilyavailabletothetwinswhentheyneededhelpwiththeirmathhomework.AndCharlesWallacealwaysknew,withoutbeingtold,whenshewastroubled,andwouldcomeuptotheattictositonthefootofherbed.Theonlytimeshedidn’twantCharlesWallacewaswhenhehimselfwaswhatwastroublingher.Shedidnotwanthimnow.
Rainwasstillspatteringagainstherwindow,butwithdiminishingforce.Thewindwasswingingaroundfromthesouthtothewest;thestormwaspassingandthetemperaturefalling.Herroomwascold,butshedidnotpluginthelittleelectricheaterherparentshadgivenhertosupplementtheinadequateheatwhichcameuptheatticstairs.Instead,sheshovedherbooksasideandtiptoedbackdownstairs,steppingcarefullyovertheseventhstair,whichnotonlycreakedbutsometimesgaveoffareportlikeashot.
Thetwinswerestillpracticing.Hermotherwasinthelivingroom,infrontofthefire,readingtoCharlesWallace,notfrombooksabouttrains,oranimals,whichthetwinshadlikedatthatage,butfromascientificmagazine,anarticlecalled“ThePolarizabilitiesandHyperpolarizabilitiesofSmallMolecules,”bythetheoreticalchemist,PeterLiebmann.
Ouch,Megthoughtruefully.—ThiskindofthingisCharlesWallace’sbedtimereadingandourparentsexpecthimtogotofirstgradeandnotgetintotrouble?
CharlesWallacelayonthefloorinfrontofthefire,staringintotheflames,halflistening,halfbrooding,hisheadasusualpillowedonFortinbras’scomfortablebulk.MegwouldhavelikedtotakeFortwithher,butthatwouldmeanlettingthefamilyknowshewasgoingout.Shehurriedasquicklyandsilentlyaspossiblethroughthekitchenandoutintothepantry.Asshepulledthekitchendoorclosedbehindher,slowly,carefully,sonobodywouldhear,thepantrydoorflewopenwithabang,andthedoortohermother’slab,ontheleft,slammedshutinagustofwind.
Shestopped,listened,waitedforoneofthetwinstoopenthekitchendoorandseewhatwasgoingon.Butnothinghappenedexceptthatthewindblewwildlythroughthepantry.Sheshivered,andgrabbedthefirstrainclothesthatcametohand,abigblackrubberponchothatbelongedtothetwinsandhaddonedoubledutyasagroundclothforatent;andCharlesWallace’syellowsou’wester.Thenshetookthebigflashlightfromthehook,shutthepantrydoorfirmlybehindher,andranacrossthelawn,trippingoverthecroquetwicket.Limping,shecrossedthepatchofdandelion,burdock,andmilkweedthatwas
growingupintheopeningthetwinshadcutinthebarberryfence.Onceshewasinthevegetablegardenshehopedthatshewouldbeinvisibletoanybodychancingtolookoutawindow.ShecouldimagineSandy’sorDennys’sreactioniftheyaskedherwhereshewasgoingandshetoldthemshewaslookingfordragons.
Why,infact,hadshecomeout?Andwhatwasshelookingfor?Wasitdragons?FortinbrasandLouisebothhadseen—andnotbeenafraidof—something,somethingwhichhadleftthefeathersandscales.Andthatsomething—orsomethings—waslikelytobeuncomfortableinthewetpasture.Ifit—orthey—cametoseekshelterinthehouse,shewantedtobeprepared.
Notonlyfordragons,inwhichshedidnotquitebelieve,despiteherfaithinCharlesWallaceandthefeatherwiththepeculiarrachis,butalsoforLouisetheLarger.ThetwinsinsistedthatLouisewasanunusualsnake,butthisafternoonwasthefirsttimeMeghadseenanysignsthatLouisewasanythingmorethanacontented,commongarden-varietysnake.
Megcheckedtheshadowsonthewall,buttherewasnosignofLouise,soshelingered,notatallanxioustocrosstheappleorchardandgointothenorthpasturetothetwoglacialrocks.Forafewminutesshewouldstayinthehomelygarden,andgatherhercourage,andbesafefromdiscovery:thetwinswerehardlylikelytocomeoutafterdarkinthecoldandwet,toadmirethelastfewcabbages,orthevinewhichhadbornetheirprizecucumber,thesizeofavegetablemarrow.
Thegardenwasborderedontheeastbytworowsofsunflowerswhichstoodwiththeirheavy,fringedheadsbowedoversothattheylookedlikeahuddleofwitches;Megglancedatthemnervously;raindropsdrippedfromtheirfaceswithmelancholyunconcern,butnolongerfromthesky.Therewasahintoflightfromthefullmoonbehindthethinningclouds,turningallthevegetablesintobeingsstrangeandunreal.Thegapingrowswhereoncebeanshadstood,andlettuce,andpeas,hadaforlornlook;therewasanairofsadnessandconfusionaboutthecarefullyplannedpattern.
“Likeeverythingelse”—Megspoketothefewremainingcauliflowerheads—“it’sfallingapart.It’snotrightintheUnitedStatesofAmericathatalittlekidshouldn’tbesafeinschool.”
Shemovedslowlyalongtheorchardwall.Theciderysmelloffallenappleswascutbythewindwhichhadcompletelychangedcourseandwasnowstreamingacrossthegardenfromthenorthwest,sharpandglitterywithfrost.
Shesawashadowmoveonthewallandjumpedback:LouisetheLarger,itmustbeLouise,andMegcouldnotclimbthatwallorcrosstheorchardtothenorthpastureuntilshewassurethatneitherLouisenorthenot-quite-seenshapewaslurkingtherewaitingtopounceonher.Herlegsfeltwatery,soshesatonalarge,squatpumpkintowait.Thecoldwindbrushedhercheek;corntasselshishedlikeoceanwaves.Shelookedwarilyabout.Shewasseeing,sherealized,throughlensesstreakedandspatteredbyraindropsblowingfromsunflowersandcorn,soshetookoffherspectacles,feltundertheponchoforherkilt,andwipedthem.Better,thoughtheworldwasstillalittlewavery,asthoughseenunderwater.
Shelistened;listened.Intheorchardsheheardthesoftplompoffallingapples;windshakingthetrees;branchesrustling.Shepeeredthroughthedarkness.Somethingwasmoving,comingcloser—
Snakesnevercomeoutinthecoldanddark,sheknewthat.Nevertheless—Louise—Yes,itwasthebigsnake.Sheemergedfromtherocksofthestonewall,
slowly,warily,watchfully.Meg’sheartwasthumping,althoughLouisewasnotthreatening.Atleast,Louisewasnotthreateningher.ButLouisewaswaiting,andthistimetherewasnowelcomeinthewaiting.Meglookedinfascinationastheheadofthesnakeslowlyweavedbackandforth,thenquiveredinrecognition.
BehindMegavoicecame.“Margaret.”Shewhirledaround.ItwasMr.Jenkins.Shelookedathimincompletebewilderment.Hesaid,“YourlittlebrotherthoughtImightfindyouhere,Margaret.”Yes,Charleswouldguess,wouldknowwhereshewas.ButwhywouldMr.
JenkinshavebeenspeakingtoCharlesWallace?TheprincipalhadneverbeentotheMurrys’house,oranyparents’,forthatmatter.Allconfrontationswereinthesafeanonymityofhisoffice.Whywouldhecomethroughthewetgrassandthestill-drippinggardentolookforherinsteadofsendingoneofthetwins?
Hesaid,“Iwantedtocomefindyoumyself,Margaret,becauseIfeelthatIoweyouanapologyformysharpnesswithyoulastweekwhenyoucametoseeme.”Heheldoutahand,paleinthemoonlightwaveringbehindtheclouds.
Inutterconfusionshereachedouttotakehishand,andasshedidso,Louiseroseuponthewallbehindher,hissingandmakingastrange,warningclacking.
Megturnedtoseethesnake,lookingaslargeandhoodedasacobra,hissingangrilyatMr.Jenkins,raisingherlargedarkcoilstostrike.
Mr.Jenkinsscreamed,inawaythatshehadneverknownamancouldscream,ahigh,piercingscreech.
Thenheroseupintothenightlikeagreat,flappingbird,flew,screamingacrossthesky,becamearent,anemptiness,aslashofnothingness—
Megfoundthatshe,too,wasscreaming.Itcouldnothavehappened.Therewasnoone,nothingthere.ShethoughtshesawLouiseslitheringbackthroughadarkrecessinthestone
wall,disappearing—Itwasimpossible.Hermindhadsnapped.Itwassomekindofhallucinationcausedbythe
weather,byheranxiety,bythestateoftheworld—Athick,uglysmell,likespoiledcabbage,likeflowerstalkslefttoolongin
water,roselikeamiasmafromtheplacewhereMr.Jenkinshadbeen—Buthecouldnothavebeenthere—Shescreamedagain,inuncontrollablepanic,asatallshapehurtledtowards
her.Calvin.CalvinO’Keefe.Sheburstintohystericaltearsofrelief.Hevaultedoverthewalltoher,hisstrong,thinarmstightaroundher,
holdingher.“Meg.Meg,whatisit?”Shecouldnotcontrolherterrifiedsobbing.“Meg,what’sthematter?What’shappened?”Heshookher,urgently.Gasping,shetriedtotellhim.“Iknowitsoundsincredible—“shefinished.
Shewasstilltremblingviolently,herheartracing.Whenhedidnotspeak,butcontinuedsoothinglytopatherback,shesaid,throughafewfinal,hiccup-ingsobs,“Oh,Calvin,IwishIhadimaginedit.Doyouthink—doyouthinkmaybeIdid?”
“Idon’tknow,”Calvinsaidflatly.Hecontinuedtoholdherstrongly,comfortingly.
NowthatCalvinwashere,wouldtakeover,shewasabletomanageaslightlyhystericalgiggle.“Mr.JenkinsalwayssaidIhavetoomuchimagination
—butit’sneverbeenthatkindofimagination.I’veneverhallucinatedoranything,haveI?”
“No,”herepliedfirmly.“Youhavenot.What’sthatawfulstench?”“Idon’tknow.It’snotnearlyasbadnowasitwasjustbeforeyoucame.”“Itmakessilagesmelllikeroses.Yukh.”“Calvin—LouisetheLarger—it’snotthefirsttimetodayLouisehasdone
somethingpeculiar.”“What?”ShetoldhimaboutLouisethatafternoon.“Butshewasn’tattackingor
anythingthen,shewasstillfriendly.She’salwaysbeenafriendlysnake.”Sheletherbreathoutinalong,
quaveringsigh.“Cal,letmehaveyourhandkerchief,please.MyglassesarefilthyandIcan’tseeathing,andrightnowI’dliketobeabletoseewhat’sgoingon.”
“Myhandkerchiefisfilthy.”ButCalvinfishedinhispockets.“It’sbetterthanakilt.”Megspatonherglassesandwipedthem.Without
theiraidshecouldseenomoreoftheolderboythanavagueblur,soshemadeboldtosay,“Oh,Cal,Iwashopingyoumightcomeovertonightanyhow.”
“I’msurprisedyou’reevenwillingtospeaktome.IcameovertoapologizeforwhatmybrotherdidtoCharlesWallace.”
Megadjustedherspectacleswithherusualroughshoveupthenose,justasashaftofmoonlightbrokethroughthecloudsandilluminatedCalvin’stroubledexpression.Shereturnedhishandkerchief.“Itwasn’tyourfault.”Then—“Imusthavehadamentalaberrationorsomething,aboutLouiseandMr.Jenkins,mustn’tI?”
“Idon’tknow,Meg.You’veneverhadamentalaberrationbefore,haveyou?”
“NotthatIknowof.”“FewmetstoMr.Jenkins,anyhow.”Shealmostshouted,“Whatdidyousay!”“FewmetstoMr.Jenkins.Fewmetsismynewswearword.I’mtiredofall
theoldones.Fewmetsaredragondroppings,and—““Iknowfewmetsaredragondroppings!WhatIwanttoknowiswhyyou
pickedonfewmets,ofallthings?”
“Itseemedquiteareasonablechoicetome.”Suddenlyshewasshakingagain.“Calvin—please—don’t—it’stooserious.”Hedroppedhisbanteringtone.“Okay,Meg,what’supaboutfewmets?”“Oh,Cal,IwassosortofshookabouttheMr.JenkinsthingIalmostforgot
aboutthedragons.”“Thewhat?”Shetoldhim,allaboutCharlesWallaceandhisdragons,“andhe’snever
hallucinatedbefore,either,”ShetoldhimagainaboutLouisegreetingtheshadowofsomethingtheyhadnotquiteseen,“butitcertainlywasn’tMr.Jenkins.Louisewasn’tintheleastfriendlyaboutMr.Jenkins.”
“It’swild,”Calvinsaid,“absolutelywild.”“Butwedidseefewmets,Calvin—orsomething,morelikefeathers,really,
butnotlikerealfeathers.CharlesWallacetookonehome—therewasawholepileofthem—thesesortoffeathers,anddragonscales,bythebiggestrockinthenorthpasture.”
Calvinsprangtohisfeet.“Let’sgo,then!Bringyourflashlight.”Itwaspossiblenowforhertocrosstheorchardandgointothepasturewith
Calvintotakethelead.UppermostinMeg’smind,supersedingfear,wastheneedtoprovethatsheandCharlesWallaceweren’tjustmakingsomethingup,thatthewildtalesshehadtoldCalvinwerereal—notMr.Jenkinsturningintoaflyingemptinessinthesky,shedidnotwantthattobereal,butthedragons.Forifnothingthathadhappenedtouchedonreality,thenshewasgoingoutofhermind.
Whentheyreachedthepasture,Calvintookthelightfromher.“I’llgoaheadabit.”
ButMegfollowedcloseonhisheels.Shethoughtshecouldsensedisbeliefashesweptthearcoflightaroundthebaseoftherock.Thebeamcametorestinasmallcircle,andinthecenterofthecircleshonesomethinggoldandglittering.
“Phew—“Calvinsaid.Meggiggledwithreliefandtension.“Don’tyoumeanfewmets?Has
anybodyeverseenafewmet?”Calvinwasdownonhandsandknees,runninghisfingersthroughthelittle
pileoffeathersandscales.“Okay,okay,thisismostpeculiar.Butwhatleftit?Afterall,agangofdragonsjustdoesn’tdisappear.”
“Adriveofdragons,”Megcorrected,automatically.“Doyoureallythinkit’s
dragons?”Calvindidnotanswer.Heasked,“Didyoutellyourmother?”“CharlesWallaceshowedthefeathertothetwinsduringdinner,andMother
sawit,too.Thetwinssaiditwasn’tabird’sfeatherbecausetherachisisn’tright,andthentheconversationgotshifted.IthinkCharlesshifteditonpurpose.”
“Howishe?”Calvinasked.“HowbadlydidWhippyhurthim?”“He’sbeenhurtworse.Motherputcompressesonhiseye,andit’sturning
blackandblue.Butthat’saboutall.”Shewasnotready,yet,tomentionhispallor,orshortnessofwind.“You’d
thinkwelivedintheroughestsectionofaninnercityorsomething,insteadofwayoutinthepeacefulcountry.Thereisn’tadayhedoesn’tgetshovedaroundbyoneofthebiggerkids—it’snotonlyWhippy.Cal,whyisitthatmyparentsknowallaboutphysicsandbiologyandstuff,andnothingaboutkeepingtheirsonfrombeingmugged?”
Calvinpulledhimselfupontothesmallerofthetwostones.“Ifit’sanyconsolationtoyou,Meg,Idoubtifmyparentsknowthedifferencebetweenphysicsandbiology.MaybeCharleswouldbebetteroffinacityschool,wherethere’relotsofdifferentkindsofkids,white,black,yellow,Spanish-speaking,rich,poor.Maybehewouldn’tstandoutasbeingsodifferentiftherewereotherdifferentpeople,too.Here—well,everybody’ssortofalike.People’rekindofproudofhavingyourparentslivehere,andpallywiththePresidentandall,butyouMurryscertainlyaren’tlikeanybodyelse.”
“You’vemanaged.”“Samewaythetwinshave.Playingbythelawsofthejungle.Youknowthat.
Anyhow,myparentsandgrandparentswerebornrighthereinthevillage,andsoweremygreat-grandparents.TheO’Keefesmaybeshiftless,butatleastthey’renotnewcomers.”Hisvoicedeepenedwithanoldsadness.
“Oh,Cal—“Heshruggedhisdarkmoodaside.“Ithinkmaybewe’dbettergotalktoyour
mother.”“Notyet.”CharlesWallace’svoicecamefrombehindthem.“She’sgot
enoughworries.Let’swaittillthedragonscomeback.”Megjumped.“Charles!Whyaren’tyouinbed?DoesMotherknowyou’re
out?”“Iwasinbed.Motherdoesn’tknowI’mout.Obviously.”
Megwasneartearsofexhaustion.“Nothingisobviousanymore.”Then,inherbig-sistertoneofvoice:“Youshouldn’tbeoutthislate.”
“’Whathappened?”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Meg,Icameoutbecausesomethingfrightenedyou.”Hesighed,astrangely
tiredandancientsighfromsosmallaboy.“IwasalmostasleepandIfeltyouscreaming.”
“Idon’twanttotellyouaboutit.Idon’twantittohavehappened.Where’sFortinbras?”
“IlefthimathomeandtoldhimnottoletonthatIwasn’tsoundasleepinbed.Ididn’twanthimtanglingwithdragons.Meg,whathappened?You’vegottotellme.”
Megsaid,“Okay,Charles,Idon’tdoubtyourdragonsanymore.NodragonscouldbemoreincrediblethanMr.Jenkinscomingtolookformeinthegarden,andthenturningintoa—agreatshriekingbirdofnothingness.”Shespokequickly,becausewhatshewassayingsoundedsoabsurd.
CharlesWallacedidnotlaugh.Heopenedhismouthtospeak,thenswungaround.“Who’shere?”
“Nobody,”Calvinsaid.“Megandme.You.”Buthejumpeddownfromtherock.
“There’ssomebodyelse.Near.”MegmovedclosertoCalvin.Herheart,itseemed,stoppedbeating.“Hush,”CharlesWallacesaid,thoughtheyhadnotspoken.Helistenedwith
liftedhead,likeFortinbrascatchingascent.Totherightofthepasturewasawoods,asmallforestofoak,,maple,beech,
strippedofallbutafewbrittleleaves,backedbythedarkwinterrichnessofassortedspruceandpine.Theground,whichthemoonlightdidnotreach,wascoveredwithfallendampleavesandpineneedleswhichwouldsilencefootsteps.Thentheyheardthesharpcrackofabreakingtwig.
MegandCalvin,strainingtopeerthroughthetrees,sawnothing.ThenCharlesWallacecried,“Mydragons!”Theyturnedaround,andtheysaw,therebythegreatrock—wings,itseemedlikehundredsofwings,spreading,folding,stretching—andeyes
howmanyeyescanadriveofdragonshave?andsmalljetsofflameSuddenlyavoicecalledtothemfromthedirectionofthewoods,“Donotbe
afraid!”
3TheManintheNight.Ahugedarkformstrodeswiftlythroughthewoodsandintothepasture;it
reachedtheminafewstrides,andthenstoodverystill,sothatthefoldsofthelongrobeseemedchiseledoutofgranite.
“Donotbeafraid,”herepeated.“Hewon’thurtyou.”He?Yes.CharlesWallace’sdriveofdragonswasasinglecreature,althoughMeg
wasnotatallsurprisedthatCharlesWallacehadconfusedthisfierce,wildbeingwithdragons.Shehadthefeelingthatsheneversawallofitatonce,andwhichofalltheeyescouldshemeet?merryeyes,wiseeyes,ferociouseyes,kitteneyes,dragoneyes,‘openingandclosing,lookingather,lookingatCharlesWallaceandCalvinandthestrangetallman.Andwings,wingsinconstantmotion,coveringanduncoveringtheeyes.Whenthewingswerespreadouttheyhadaspanofatleasttenfeet,andwhentheywereallfoldedin,thecreatureresembledamisty,featherysphere.Littlespurtsofflameandsmokespoutedupbetweenthewings;itcouldcertainlystartagrassfireifitweren’tcareful.MegdidnotwonderthatCharlesWallacehadnotapproachedit.
Againthetallstrangerreassuredthem.“Hewon’thurtyou.”Thestrangerwasdark,darkasnightandtallasatree,andtherewassomethinginthereposeofhisbody,thequietofhisvoice,whichdroveawayfear.
CharlesWallacesteppedtowardshim.“Whoareyou?”“ATeacher.”CharlesWallace’ssighwaslonging.“Iwishyouweremyteacher.”“Iam.”Thecello-likevoicewascalm,slightlyamused.CharlesWallaceadvancedanotherstep.“Andmydragons?”Thetallman—theTeacher—heldouthishandinthedirectionofthewild
creature,whichseemedtogatheritselftogether,toriseup,togiveagreat,courteousbowtoallofthem.
TheTeachersaid,“HisnameisProginoskes.”CharlesWallacesaid,“He?”“Yes.”“He’snotdragons?”“Heisacherubim.”
“What!?”“Acherubim.”Flamespurtedskywardsinindignationatthedoubtintheatmosphere.Great
wingsraisedandspreadandthechildrenwerelookedatbyagreatmanyeyes.Whenthewildthingspoke,itwasnotinvocalwords,butdirectlyintotheirminds.
“IsupposeyouthinkIoughttobeagolden-hairedbaby-facewithnobodyandtwouselesslittlewings?”
CharlesWallacestaredatthegreatcreature.“Itmightbesimplerifyouwere.”
Megpulledherponchocloserabouther,forprotectionincasethecherubimspoutedfireinherdirection.
“Itisaconstantamazementtome,”thecherubimthoughtatthem,“thatsomanyearthlingartistspaintcherubimtoresemblebabypigs.”
Calvinmadeasoundwhich,ifhehadbeenlessastonished,wouldhavebeenalaugh.“Butcherubimisplural.”
Thefire-spoutingbeastreturned,“Iampracticallyplural.ThelittleboythoughtIwasadriveofdragons,didn’the?Iamcertainlynotacherub.Iamasingularcherubim.”
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”CharlesWallaceasked.“Iwassent.”“Sent?”“Tobeinyourclass.Idon’tknowwhatI’vedonetobeassignedtoaclass
withsuchimmatureearthlings.Ihaveahardenoughjobasitis.Ireallydon’tfancycomingbacktoschoolatallatmyage.”
“Howoldareyou?”Megheldherponchooutwide,readytouseitasashield.
“Age,forcherubim,isimmaterial.It’sonlyfortime-boundcreaturesthatageevenexists.Iam,incherubicterms,stillachild,andthatisallyouneedtoknow.It’sveryrudetoaskquestionsaboutage.”Twoofthewingscrossedanduncrossed.Themessagehadbeenrueful,ratherthanannoyed.
CharlesWallacespoketothetallman.“Youaremyteacher,andhisteacher,too?”
“Iam.”
CharlesWallacelookedupatthestrangedarkfacewhichwassternandgentleatthesametime.“It’stoogoodtobetrue.IthinkImustbehavingadream.IwishI’djustgoondreamingandnotwakeup.”
“Whatisreal?”TheTeacherstretchedoutanarm,andgentlytouchedthebruiseonCharlesWallace’scheek,thepuffedanddiscoloredfleshunderhiseye.“Youareawake.”
“Orifyou’reasleep,”Megsaid,“we’reallhavingthesamedream.Aren’twe,Calvin?”
“Thethingthatmakesmethinkwe’reawakeisthatifIweretodreamaboutacherubim,itwouldn’tlooklikethat—that—“
Severalveryblue,long-lashedeyeslookeddirectlyatCalvin.“Proginoskes,astheTeachertoldyou.Proginoskes.Anddon’tgetanyideasaboutcallingmeCherry,orCheery,orBimmy.”
“Itwouldbeeasier,”CharlesWallacesaid.Butthecreaturerepeatedfirmly,“Proginoskes.”OutofthedarkformoftheTeachercameadeep,gentlerumblingof
amusement,arumblingwhichexpandedandroseandbubbledintoagreatlaugh.“Allright,then,mychildren.Areyoureadytostart—wewillcallit,forwantofabetterwordinyourlanguage,school—areyoureadytostartschool?”
CharlesWallace,asmallandratherludicrousfigureintheyellowslickerhehadpulledonoverhispajamas,lookedupattheoak-treeheightandstrengthoftheTeacher.“Thesoonerthebetter.Time’srunningout.”
“Hey,waitaminute,”Calvinobjected.“WhatareyougoingtodowithCharles?Youandthe—thecherubimcan’ttakehimoffwithoutconsultinghisparents.”
“WhatmakesyouthinkI’mplanningto?”TheTeachergaveaneasylittlejump,andtherehewas,comfortablysittingonthetallestoftheglacialrocksasthoughitwereastool,hisarmslooselyabouthisknees,thefoldsofhisrobeblendingwiththemoonlitstone.“AndIcamenotonlytocallCharlesWallace.Icametocallallthreeofyou.”
Meglookedstartled.“Allofus?But—““YoumayaddressmeasBlajeny,”theTeachersaid.CharlesWallaceasked,“Mr.Blajeny?Dr.Blajeny?SirBlajeny?”“Blajenyisenough.Thatisallofmynameyouneedtoknow.Areyou
ready?”
Megstilllookedastonished.“Calvinandme,too?”“Yes.”“But—“Asalwayswhenshefeltunsure,Megwasargumentative.“Calvin
doesn’tneed—he’sthebeststudentinschool,andthebestathlete,he’simportantandeverything.AndI’mgettingalong,now.It’sCharleswho’sthetrouble—youcanseeforyourself.School,ordinaryschool,isjustnotgoingtoworkoutforhim.”
Blajeny’svoicewascool.“Thatishardlymyproblem.”“Thenwhyareyouhere?”ThatBlajenymighthavebeensentsolelytohelp
herbrotherdidnotseematallastonishingtoMeg.Againcametherumblethatbubbledupintoalaugh.“Mydears,youmust
nottakeyourselvessoseriously.WhyshouldschoolbeeasyforCharlesWallace?”
“Itshouldn’tbethisbad.ThisistheUnitedStatesofAmerica.They’llhurthimifsomebodydoesn’tdosomething.”
“Hewillhavetolearntodefendhimself.”CharlesWallace,lookingverysmallanddefenseless,spokequietly.“The
Teacherisright.It’saquestionoflearningtoadapt,andnobodycandothatforme.Ifeverybodywillleavemealone,andstoptryingtohelpme,I’lllearn,eventually,hownottobeconspicuous.IcanassureyouIhaven’tmentionedmitochondriaandfarandolaelately.”
TheTeachernoddedgraveapproval.CharlesWallacemovedclosertohim.“I’mverygladyouhaven’tcome
becauseI’mmakingsuchamessofschool.But—Blajeny—ifyouhaven’tcomebecauseofthat,thenwhyareyouhere?”
“Ihavecomenotsomuchtoofferyoumyhelpastoaskforyours.”“Ours?”Megasked.CharlesWallacelookedupattheTeacher.“I’mnotmuchofahelpto
anybodyrightnow.Itisn’tjustthatI’mnotgettingalongatschool—““Yes,”Blajenysaid.“Iknowoftheotherproblem.Neverthelessyouare
called,andanybodywhoisinvitedtostudywithoneoftheTeachersiscalledbecauseheisneeded.Youhavetalentswecannotaffordtolose.”
“Then—““Wemustfindoutwhatismakingyouilland,ifpossible,makeyouwell
again.”“Ifpossible?”Megaskedanxiously.Calvinaskedsharply,“Charles?Ill?What’swrong?What’sthematterwith
Charles?”“Lookathim,”Megsaidinalowvoice.“Lookhowpaleheis.Andhehas
troublebreathing.Hegotoutofbreathjustwalkingacrosstheorchard,”SheturnedtotheTeacher.“Oh,please,please,Blajeny,canyouhelp?”
Blajenylookeddownather,darkly,quietly.“Ithink,mychild,thatitisyouwhomusthelp.”
“Me?”“Yes.”“YouknowI’ddoanythingintheworldtohelpCharles.”CalvinlookedquestioninglyattheTeacher.“Yes,Calvin,youtoo.”“How?Howcanwehelp?”“Youwilllearnasthelessonsprogress.”Calvinasked,“Wherearewegoingtohavetheselessons,then?Where’s
yourschool?”Blajenyjumpedlightlydownfromtherock.Despitehisheightandgirthhe
moved,Megthought,asthoughhewereusedtoaheaviergravitythanearth’s.Hestrodelightlyhalfwayacrossthepasturetowheretherewasalarge,flatrockwherethechildrenoftenwentwiththeirparentstowatchthestars.Hedroppeddownontotherockandlaystretchedoutonhisback,gesturingtotheotherstojoinhim.Meglaybesidehim,withCalvinonherotherside,sothatshefeltprotected,notonlyfromthecoldnightwindbutfromthecherubim,whohadreachedtherockwiththebeatofawingandassortedhimselfintoanassemblageofwingsandeyesandpuffsofsmokeatadiscreetdistancefromCharlesWallace,whowasonBlajeny’sotherside.
“It’sallright,dragons,”CharlesWallacesaid.I’mnotafraidofyou.”Thecherubimrearrangedhiswings.“Proginoskes,please.”Blajenylookedupatthesky,raisedhisarm,andmadeawide,embracing
gesture.Thecloudshadalmostdispersed;onlyafewrapidlyflyingstreamersveiledthestars,whichblazedwiththefiercebrillianceoftherapidlyplummetingmercury.TheTeacher’ssweepingmotionindicatedtheentire
sparklingstretchofsky.Thenhesatupandfoldedhisarmsacrosshischest,andhisstrangeluminouseyesturnedinwards,sothathewaslookingnotatthestarsnoratthechildrenbutintosomedeep,darkplacefarwithinhimself,andthenfurther.Hesatthere,movingin,in,deeperanddeeper,fortimeoutoftime.Thenthefocusofhiseyesreturnedtothechildren,andhegavehisradiantsmileandansweredCalvin’squestionasthoughnotamomenthadpassed.
“Whereismyschool?Here,there,everywhere.Intheschoolyardduringfirst-graderecess.Withthecherubimandseraphim.Amongthefarandolae.”
CharlesWallaceexclaimed,“Mymother’sisolatedthefarandolae!”“Soshehas.”“Blajeny,doyouknowifsomething’swrongwithmyfarandolaeand
mitochondria?”Blajenyrepliedquietly,“YourmotherandDr.Colubraaretryingtofindthat
out.”“Well,then,whatdowedonow?”“Gohometobed.”“Butschool—““Youwillallgotoschoolasusualinthemorning.”Itwastotalanticlimax.“Butyourschool—“Megcriedindisappointment.
ShehadhopedthatCharlesWallacewouldneverhavetoentertheoldredschoolbuildingagain,thatBlajenywouldtakeover,makeeverythingallright...
“Mychildren,”Blajenysaidgravely,“myschoolbuildingistheentirecosmos.Beforeyourtunewithmeisover,Imayhavetotakeyougreatdistances,andtoverystrangeplaces.”
“Areweyourwholeclass?”Calvinasked.“MegandCharlesWallaceandme?”
Proginoskesletoutapuffofhuffysmoke.“Sorry—andthecherubim.”Blajenysaid,“WaitYouwillknowwhenthetimecomes.”“Andwhyonearthisoneofourclassmatesacherubim?”Megsaid.“Sorry,
Proginoskes,butitdoesseemveryinsultingtoyoutohavetobewithmortalslikeus.”
Proginoskesbattedseveraleyesinapology.“Ididn’tmeanwhatIsaidaboutimmatureearthlings.IfwehavebeensenttothesameTeacher,thenwehave
thingstolearnfromeachother.Acherubimisnotahigherorderthanearthlings,youknow,justdifferent.”
Blajenynodded.“Yes.Youhavemuchtolearnfromeachother.Meanwhile,Iwillgiveeachofyouassignments.CharlesWallace,canyouguesswhatyoursis?”
“Tolearntoadapt.”“Idon’twantyoutochange!”Megcried.“NeitherdoI,”Blajenyreplied.“CharlesWallace’sproblemistolearnto
adaptwhileremainingwhollyhimself.”“What’smyassignment,Blajeny?”Megasked.TheTeacherfrownedbriefly,inthought.Then,“Iamtryingtoputitinto
earthterms,termswhichyouwillunderstand.Youmustpassthreetests,ortrials.Youmuststartimmediatelyonthefirstone.”
“Whatisit?”“Partofthetrialisthatyoumustdiscoverforyourselfwhatitis.”“Buthow?”“ThatIcannottellyou.Butyouwillnotbealone.Proginoskesistowork
withyou.YouwillbewhatIthinkyouwouldcallpartners.Togetheryoumustpassthethreetests.”
“Butsupposewefail?”Proginoskesflungseveralwingsoverhiseyesinhorroratthethought.Blajenysaidquietly,“Itisapossibility,butIwouldpreferyounotto
supposeanysuchthing.Rememberthatthesethreetrialswillbenothingyoucouldimagineorexpectrightnow.”
“ButBlajeny—Icanhardlytakeacherubimtoschoolwithme!”Blajenylookedaffectionatelyatthegreatcreature,whosewingswerestill
foldedprotectinglyabouthimself.“Thatisforthetwoofyoutodecide.Heisnotalwaysvisible,youknow.Myself,Ifindhimalittlesimplerwhenhe’sjustawindoraflame,buthewasconvincedhe’dbemorereassuringtoearthlingsifheenfleshedhimself.”
CharlesWallacereachedoutandslippedhishandintotheTeacher’s.“IfIcouldtakehim,justthisway,lookinglikeadriveofdragons,intotheschoolyardwithme,IbetIwouldn’thaveanytrouble.”
Megsaid,“Didn’tyoutellmeyouweresupposedtobringapet-toschool
tomorrow?”CharlesWallacelaughed.“Wemaybringasmallpettomorrowtosharewith
theclass.”Proginoskespeeredunderonewing.“Iamnotajokingmatter.”“Oh,Progo,”Megassuredhim.“It’sonlywhistlinginthedark.”CharlesWallace,stillholdingtheTeacher’shand,askedhim,“Willyou
comehomewithusnowandmeetmymother?”“Nottonight,Charles,itisverylateforyoutobeup,andwhoknowswhat
tomorrowwillbring?”“Don’tyouknow?”“IamonlyaTeacher,andIwouldnotarrangethefutureaheadoftimeifI
could.Come,Iwillwalkpartofthewaybacktothehousewithyou.”Megasked,“WhataboutProgo—Proginoskes?”Thecherubimreplied,“IfitisnotthetimeforBlajenytomeetyourfamily,it
ishardlythetimeforme.Iamquitecomfortablehere.Perhapsyoucouldcomemeetmeearlytomorrowmorning,andwecancompareournightthoughts.”
“Well—okay.Iguessthat’sbest.Goodnight,then.”“Goodnight,Megling.”Hewavedawingather,thenfoldedhimselfupinto
agreatpuff.Noeyesshowed,noflame,nosmoke.Megshivered.Blajenyasked,“Areyoucold?”Sheshiveredagain.“Thatthunderstormbeforedinner—Isupposeitwas
causedbyacoldfrontmeetingawarmfront,butitdidseemawfullycosmic.Ineverexpectedtomeetacherubim...”
“Blajeny,”Calvinsaid,“youhaven’tgivenmeanassignment.”“No,myson.Thereisworkforyou,difficultwork,anddangerous,butI
cannottellyouyetwhatitis.Yourassignmentistowait,withoutquestion.PleasecometotheMurrys’houseafterschooltomorrow—youarefreetodothat?”
“Oh,sure,”Calvinsaid.“Icanskipmyafter-schoolstuffforonce.”,“Good.Untilthen.Now,letusgo.”CharlesWallaceledtheway,withMegandCalvinclosebehind.Thewind
wasblowingoutofthenorthwest,colder,itseemed,witheachgust.Whentheyreachedthestonewalltotheappleorchard,themoonwasshiningclearly,with
thatextraordinarybrightnesswhichmakeslightanddarkacuteandseparate.Someapplesstillclungtotheirbranches;afewasdarkasBlajeny,othersshiningwithasilverylight,almostasthoughtheywereilluminatedfromwithin.
Ontopofthepalestonesofthewalllayadarkshadow,whichwasmovingslowly,sinuously.Itroseup,carefullyuncoiling,seemingtospreadahoodasitloomedoverthem.Itsforkedtongueflickered,catchingthelight,andahissingissuedfromitsmouth.
Louise.ButthiswasnotthethreateningLouisewhohadhissedandclackedatthe
impossibleMr.Jenkins;thiswastheLouiseMegandCharlesWallacehadseenthatafternoon,theLouisewhohadbeenwaitingtogreettheunknownshadow—theshadowwho,Megsuddenlyunderstood,musthavebeenBlajeny.
Nevertheless,shepressedclosertoCalvin;shehadneverfeltverysecurearoundLouise,andthesnake’sstrangebehaviorthatafternoonandeveningmadeherseemevenmorealienthanwhenshewasonlythetwins’pet.
NowLouisewasweavingslowlybackandforthinagentlerhythm,almostasthoughsheweremakingaserpentineversionofadeepcurtsy;andthesibilantsoundwasagentle,treblefluting.
Blajenybowedtothesnake.Louisemostdefinitelyreturnedthebow.Blajenyexplainedgravely,“Sheisacolleagueofmine.”“But—but—hey,now,”Calvinsputtered,“waitaminute—““SheisaTeacher.Thatiswhysheissofondofthetwoboys—Sandyand
Dennys.OnedaytheywillbeTeachers,too.”Megsaid,“They’regoingtobesuccessfulbusinessmenandsupporttherest
ofusinthewaytowhichwearenotaccustomed.”Blajenywavedthisaside.“TheywillbeTeachers.ItisaHighCalling,and
youmustnotbedistressedthatitisnotyours.You,too,haveaWork.”Louise,withalastburstofhertiny,strangemelody,droppedbacktothewall
anddisappearedamongthestones.“Perhapswe’redreamingafterall,”Calvinsaid,wonderingly.“Whatisreal?”theTeacheraskedagain.“Iwillsaygoodnighttoyounow.”CharlesWallacewasreluctanttoleave.“Wewon’twakeupinthemorning
andfinditallneverhappened?Wewon’twakeupandfindwedreamed
everything?”“Ifonlyoneofusdoes,”Megsaid,“andnobodyelseremembersanyofit,
thenit’sadream.Butifweallwakeupremembering,thenitreallyhappened.”“Waituntiltomorrowtofindwhattomorrowholds,”Blajenyadvised.“Good
night,mychildren.”Theydidnotaskhimwherehewasgoingtospendthenight—thoughMeg
wondered—becauseitwasthekindofpresumptuousquestiononecouldnotpossiblyaskBlajeny.Theylefthimstandingandwatchingafterthem,thefoldsofhisrobeschiseledlikegranite,hisdarkfacecatchingandrefractingthemoonlightlikefusedglass.
Theycrossedtheorchardandgardenandenteredthehouse,asusual,bythebackway,throughthepantry.Thedoortothelabwasopen,andthelightson.Mrs.Murrywasbentoverhermicroscope,andDr.Colubrawascurledupinanoldredleatherchair,reading.Thelabwasalong,narrowroomwithgreatslabsofstoneforthefloor.Ithadoriginallybeenusedtokeepmilkandbutterandotherperishables,longbeforethedaysofrefrigerators,anditwasstilldifficulttoheatinwinter.ThelongworkcounterwiththestonesinkatoneendwasidealforMrs.Murry’slabequipment.Inonecornerweretwocomfortablechairsandareadinglamp,whichsoftenedtheclinicalglareofthelightsoverthecounter.ButMegcouldnotthinkofatimewhenshehadseenhermotherrelaxinginoneofthosechairs;sheinevitablyperchedononeofthelabstools.
Shelookedupfromthestrangeconvolutionsofthemicro-electronmicroscope.“Charles!Whatareyoudoingoutofbed?”
“Iwokeup,”CharlesWallacesaidblandly.“IknewMegandCalvinwereoutside,soIwenttogetthem.”
Mrs.Murryglancedsharplyatherson,thengreetedCalvinwarmly.CharlesWallaceasked,“Isitokayifwemakesomecocoa?”“It’sverylateforyoutobeup,Charles,andtomorrow’saschoolday.”“It’llhelpmegetbacktosleep.”Mrs.Murryseemedabouttorefuse,butDr.Colubraclosedherbook,saying,
“Whynot,foronce?LetCharleshaveanapwhenhegetshomeintheafternoon.I’dlikesomecocoamyself.Let’smakeitoutherewhileyourmothergoesonwithherwork.I’lldoit.”
“I’llgetthemilkandstufffromthekitchen,”Megsaid.WithDr.Louisepresenttheywerenot,shefelt,freetotalktotheirmother
abouttheeventsoftheevening.ThechildrenwereallfondofDr.Louise,andtrustedhercompletelyasaphysician,buttheywerenotquitesurethatshehadtheirparents’capacitytoaccepttheextraordinary.Almostsure,butnotquite.Dr.Colubrahadagooddealincommonwiththeirparents;she,too,hadgivenupworkwhichpaidextremelywellinbothmoneyandprestige,tocomeliveinthissmallruralvillage.(Toomanyofmycolleagueshaveforgottenthattheyaresupposedtopracticetheartofhealing.IfIdon’thavethegiftofhealinginmyhands,thenallmyexpensivetrainingisn’tworthverymuch!)She,too,hadturnedherbackontheglitterofworldlysuccess.Megknewthatherparents,despitethefactthattheywereconsultedbythePresidentoftheUnitedStates,hadgivenupmuchwhentheymovedtothecountryinordertodevotetheirlivestopureresearch.Theirdiscoveries,manyofthemmadeinthisstonelaboratory,hadmadetheMurrysmore,ratherthanless,opentothestrange,tothemysterious,totheunexplainable.Dr.Colubra’sworkwasperforcemorestraightforward,andMegwasnotsurehowshewouldrespondtotalkofastrangedarkTeacher,eightorninefeettall,andevenlesssurehowshewouldreacttotheirdescriptionofacherubim.She’dprobablyinsisttheyweresufferingfrommasspsychosisandthattheyallshouldseeapsychiatristatonce.
OrisitjustthatI’mafraidtotalkaboutit,eventoMother?Megwondered,asshetooksugar,cocoa,milk,andasaucepanfromthekitchenandreturnedtothepantry.
Dr.Colubrawassaying,“Thatstuffaboutcosmicscreamsandripsindistantgalaxiesoffendseverybitoftherationalpartofme.”
Mrs.Murryleanedagainstthecounter.“Youdidn’tbelieveinfarandolae,either,untilIprovedthemtoyou.”
“Youhaven’tproventhemtome,”Dr.Louisesaid.“Yet.”Shelookedslightlyruffled,likealittlegreybird.Hershort,curlyhairwasgrey;hereyesweregreyaboveasmallbeakofanose;sheworeagreyflannelsuit.“ThemainreasonIthinkyoumayberightisthatyougotothatidiotmachine—“shepointedatthemicro-electronmicroscope—“thewaymyhusbandusedtogotohisviolin.Itwasalwayslikealovers’meeting.”
Mrs.Murryturnedawayfromher‘idiotmachine.’“IthinkIwishI’dneverheardoffarandolae,muchlesscometotheconclusions—“Shestoppedabruptly,thensaid,“Bytheway,kids,Iwasrathersurprised,justbeforeyouallbargedintothelab,tohaveMr.JenkinscalltosuggestthatwegiveCharlesWallacelessonsinself-defense.”
Mr.Jenkins?Megwondered.Aloudshesaid,“ButMr.Jenkinsnevercallsparents.Parentshavetogotohim.”Shealmostasked,‘AreyousureitwasMr.Jenkins?’AndstoppedherselfassherememberedthatshehadnottoldBlajenyaboutthehorribleMr.Jenkins-not-Mr.Jenkinswhohadturnedintoabirdofnothingness,theMr.JenkinsLouisehadresentedsofiercely.SheshouldhavetoldBlajeny;shewouldtellhimfirstthinginthemorning.
CharlesWallaceclimbedupontooneofthelabstoolsandperchedclosetohismother.“WhatIreallyneedarelessonsinadaptation.I’vebeenreadingDarwin,buthehasn’thelpedmemuch.”
“Seewhatwemean?”CalvinaskedDr.Louise.“That’shardlywhatoneexpectsfromasix-year-old.”
“He-reallydoesreadDarwin,”Megassuredthedoctor.“AndIstillhaven’tlearnedhowtoadapt,”CharlesWallaceadded.Dr.Louisewasmakingapasteofcocoa,sugar,andalittlehot-waterfrom
oneofMrs.Murry’sretorts.“Thisisjustwater,isn’tit?”sheasked.“Fromourartesianwell.Theverybestwater.”Dr.Louiseaddedmilk,littlebylittle.“Youkidsaretooyoungtoremember,
andyourmotherisagoodtenyearsyoungerthanIam,butI’llneverforget,agreatmanyyearsago,whenthefirstastronautswenttothemoon,andIsatupallnighttowatchthem.”
“Irememberitallright,”Mrs.Murrysaid.“Iwasn’tthatyoung.”Dr.LouisestirredthecocoawhichwasheatingoveraBunsenburner.“Do
yourememberthosefirststepsonthemoon,sotentativetobeginwith,onthatstrange,airless,alienterrain?Andthen,inashorttime,ArmstrongandAldrinwerestridingaboutconfidently,andthecommentatorremarkedonthisasanextraordinaryexampleofman’sremarkableabilitytoadapt”
“Butalltheyhadtoadapttowasthemoon’ssurface!”Megobjected.“Itwasn’tinhabited.I’llbetwhenourastronautsreachsomeplacewithinhabitantsitwon’tbesoeasy.It’salotsimplertoadapttolowgravity,ornoatmosphere,orevensandstorms,thanitistohostileinhabitants.”
Fortinbras,whohadanuncaninefondnessforcocoa,camepaddingouttothelab,hisnosetwitchinginanticipation.HestoodonhishindlegsandputhisfrontpawsonCharlesWallace’sshoulders.
Dr.ColubraaskedMeg,“Doyouthinkthefirst-gradersinthevillageschoolarehostileinhabitants,then?”
“Ofcourse!Charlesisn’tlikethem,andsothey’rehostiletowardshim.Peoplearealwayshostiletoanybodywho’sdifferent.”
“Untiltheygetusedtohim,”thedoctorsaid.“They’renotgettingusedtoCharles.”CharlesWallace,fondlingthebigdog,said,“Don’tforgettogiveForta
saucer—helikescocoa.”“Youhavethestrangestpets,”Dr.Louisesaid,butshepouredasmalldishof
cocoaforFortinbras.“I’llletitcoolabitbeforeIputitonthefloor.Meg,weneedmugs.”
“Okay.”Meghurriedofftothekitchen,collectedastackofmugs,andreturnedtothelaboratory.
Dr.Louiselinedthemupandpouredthecocoa.“Speakingofpets,how’smynamesake?”
Megnearlyspilledthecocoashewashandingtohermother.ShelookedcloselyatDr.Louise,butthoughthequestionhadseemedpointed,thelittlebirdfaceshowednothingmorethanamusedinterest;asCharlesWallacesaid,Dr.Louisewasverygoodattalkingononelevelandthinkingonanother.
CharlesWallaceansweredthequestion.“LouisetheLargerisamagnificentsnake.Iwonderifshe’dlikesomecocoa?Snakeslikemilk,don’tthey?”
Mrs.Murrysaidfirmly,“Youarenotgoingbackouttonighttofindifthesnake,magnificentthoughshebe,likescocoa.Saveyourexperimentalzealfordaylight.Louiseisundoubtedlysoundasleep.”
Dr.Louisecarefullypouredoutthelastofthecocoaintoherownmug.“Somesnakesareverysociableatnight.ManyyearsagowhenIwasworkinginahospitalinthePhilippinesIhadaboaconstrictorforapet;wehadaproblemwithratsintheward,andmyboaconstrictordidathoroughjobofkeepingtherodentpopulationdown.Healsolikedcream-of-mushroomsoup,thoughInevertriedhimoncocoa,andhewasadelightfulcompanionintheevenings,affectionateandcuddly.”
Megdidnotthinkthatshewouldenjoycuddlingwithasnake,evenLouise.“Healsohadimpeccablejudgmentabouthumannature.Hewasnaturallya
friendlycreature,andifheshowedmethathedislikedordistrustedsomebody,Itookhimseriously.Wehadamanbroughttothemen’swardwhoseemedtohavenothingmoreseriouslywrongwithhimthanaslightlyinflamedappendix,butmyboaconstrictortookadisliketohimthemomenthewasadmitted.That
nighthetriedtokillthemaninthenextbed—fortunatelywegottohimintime.Butthesnakeknew,Afterthat,Ilistenedtohiswarningsimmediately.”
“Fortinbrashasthesameinstinctaboutpeople,”Mrs.Murrysaid.“Toobadwehumanbeingshavelostit.”
Megwantedtosay,“SodoesLouisetheLarger,”buthermotherorthedoctorwouldhaveaskedheronwhatexperienceshebasedsucharemark;itwouldhavesoundedmorelikelycomingfromthetwins.
CharlesWallaceregardedDr.Colubra,whohadreturnedtotheredleatherchairandwassippingcocoa,herlegstuckedunderherlikeachild;asamatteroffact,shewasconsiderablysmallerthanMeg.Charlessaid,“WetakeLouiseveryseriously,Dr,Louise.Veryseriously.”
Dr.Louisenodded.Hervoicewaslightandhigh.“ThatwaswhatIhadinmind.”
Calvinfinishedhiscocoa.“Thankyouverymuch.I’dbettergetonhomenow.Seeyouinschooltomorrow,Meg.Thanksagain,Mrs.MurryandDr.Colubra.Goodnight.”
Whenhehadgone,Mrs.Murrysaid,“Allright,Charles.Thetwinshavebeeninbedforanhour.Meg,it’stimeforyou,too.Charles,I’llcomecheckonyouinafewminutes.”
Astheyleftthelab,Megcouldseehermotherturningbacktothemicro-electronmicroscope.
Megundressedslowly,standingbyheratticwindow,wonderingifDr.Louise’stalkaboutsnakeshadbeenentirelycasualchatoveracupofcocoa;perhapsitwasonlythestrangeeventsoftheeveningwhichcausedhertolookformeaningsunderthesurfaceofwhatmightwellbeunimportantconversation.Sheturnedoutthelightsandlookedoutthewindow.Shecouldseeacrossthevegetablegardentotheorchard,butthetreesstillheldenoughleavessothatshecouldnotseeintothenorthpasture.
Wastherereallyacherubimwaitingatthestar-watchingrock,curledupintoagreatfeatheryball,allthoseeyesclosedinsleep?
Washereal?Whatisreal?
4Proginoskes.Megwokeupbeforedawn,suddenlyandcompletely,asthoughsomething
hadjerkedheroutofsleep.Shelistened:onlytheusualnoisesofthesleepinghouse.Sheturnedonthelightandlookedatherclock;shehadsetthealarmforsix,asusual.Itwasnowfive.Shehadanotherwholehourinwhichshecouldcurlupunderthecovers,andluxuriateinwarmthandcomfort,anddoze—
Thensheremembered.Shetriedtoreassureherselfthatshewasrememberingadream,althoughit
wasnotthewaythatadreamisremembered.Itmusthavebeenadream,obviouslyitmusthavebeenadream—
Theonlywaytoprovethatitwasnothingbutadream,withoutwakingCharlesWallaceandaskinghim,wastogetdressedandgoouttothestar-watchingrockandmakesurethattherewasnocherubimthere.And—ifbysomeslimchanceithadnotbeenadream,shehadpromisedthecherubimthatshewouldcometohimbeforebreakfast.
HaditnotbeenforthehorriblemomentswithMr.Jenkinsscreechingacrossthesky,shewouldnothavewantedittobeadream.ShedesperatelywantedBlajenytobereal,totakecareofeverything.ButtheunrealityofMr.Jenkins,whohadalwaysbeendisagreeablypredictable,wasfarmoredifficultforhertoacceptthantheTeacher,orevenacherubimwholookedlikeadriveofdragons.
Shedressedhurriedly,puttingonherkiltandacleanblouse.Shetiptoeddownstairsasquietlyandcarefullyasshehadthenightbefore,throughthekitchenandintothepantry,wheresheputonherheaviestjacket,andamulticoloredknittedtarno’shanter,oneofhermother’sraresuccessfulventuresintodomesticity.
Thistunenowindblew,nodoorsslammed.Sheturnedontheflashlighttoguideher.Itwasastill,chillpre-dawn.Thegrasswaswhitewithspider-webtracingsofdewandlightfrost.Athinvapormoveddelicatelyacrossthelawn.Themountainswerecurtainedbygroundfog,althoughintheskyshecouldseestars.Sheranacrossthegarden,lookingwarilyabouther.ButtherewasnoMr.Jenkins,ofcoursetherewasnoMr.Jenkins.AtthestonewallshelookedcarefullyforLouise,buttherewasnosignofthebigsnake.Shecrossedtheorchard,climbedthewallagain—stillnoLouise,itwasmuchtooearlyandmuchtoocoldforsnakes,anyhow—andranacrossthenorthpasture,pastthetwoglacialrocks,andtothestar-watchingrock.
Therewasnothingthereexceptthemistwhirlinggentlyinthefaintbreeze.Soithadallbeenadream.Thenthemistseemedtosolidify,tobecomemovingwings,eyesopening
andshutting,tinyflickersoffire,smallpuffsofmistysmoke....“You’rereal,”shesaidloudly.“You’renotsomethingIdreamedafterall.”Proginoskesdelicatelystretchedonehugewingskywards,thenfoldedit.“I
havebeentoldthathumanbeingsseldomdreamaboutcherubim.Thankyouforbeingprompt.Itisinthenatureofcherubimtodisliketardiness.”
Megsighed,inresignation,infear,and,surprisingly,inrelief.“Okay,Progo,Iguessyou’renotafigmentofmyimagination.Whatdowedonow?I’vegotjustaboutanhourbeforebreakfast.”
“Areyouhungry?”“No,I’mmuchtooexcitedtobehungry,butifIdon’tturnupontime,it
won’tgodownverywellifIexplainthatIwaslatebecauseIwastalkingwithacherubim.Mymotherdoesn’tliketardiness,either.”
Proginoskessaid,“Muchcanbeaccomplishedinanhour.Wehavetofindoutwhatourfirstordealis.”
“Don’tyouknow?”“WhywouldIknow?”“You’reacherubim.”“Evenacherubimhaslimits.Whenthreeordealsareplanned,thennobody
knowsaheadoftimewhattheyare;eventheTeachermaynotknow.”“Thenwhatdowedo?Howdowefindout?”Proginoskeswavedseveralwingsslowlybackandforthinthought,which
wouldhavefeltverypleasantonahotday,butwhich,onacoldmorning,madeMegturnupthecollarofherjacket.Thecherubimdidnotnotice;hecontinuedwavingandthinking.Thenshecouldfeelhiswordsmovingslowly,tentatively,withinhermind.“Hyou’vebeenassignedtome,IsupposeyoumustbesomekindofaNamer,too,evenifaprimitiveone.”
“Awhat?”“ANamer.Forinstance,thelasttimeIwaswithaTeacher—oratschool,as
youcallit—myassignmentwastomemorizethenamesofthestars.”“Whichstars?”“Allofthem.”
“Youmeanallthestars,inallthegalaxies?”“Yes.Ifhecallsforoneofthem,someonehastoknowwhichonehemeans.
Anyhow,theylikeit;therearen’tmanywhoknowthemallbyname,andifyournameisn’tknown,thenit’saverylonelyfeeling.”
“AmIsupposedtolearnthenamesofallthestars,too?”Itwasanappallingthought
“Goodgalaxy,no!”“ThenwhatamIsupposedtodo?”Proginoskeswavedseveralwings,which,Megwaslearning,wasmoreor
lesshiswayofexpressing“Ihaven’tthefaintestidea.”“Well,then,ifI’maNamer,whatdoesthatmean?WhatdoesaNamerdo?”Thewingsdrewtogether,theeyesclosed,singly,andingroups,untilall
wereshut.Smallpuffsofmist-likesmokerose,swirledabouthim.“WhenIwasmemorizingthenamesofthestars,partofthepurposewastohelpthemeachtobemoreparticularlytheparticularstareachonewassupposedtobe.That’sbasicallyaNamer’sjob.Maybeyou’resupposedtomakeearthlingsfeelmorehuman.”
“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”Shesatdownontherockbesidehim;shewassomehownolongerafraidofhiswildness,hissize,hisspurtsoffire.
Heasked,“HowdoImakeyoufeel?”Shehesitated,notwantingtoberude,forgettingthatthecherubim,farmore
thanCharlesWallace,didnotneedheroutwardwordstoknowwhatwasbeingsaidwithin.Butsheansweredtruthfully,“Confused.”
Severalpuffsofsmokewentup.“Well,wedon’tknoweachotherverywellyet.Whomakesyouleastconfused?”
“Calvin.”Therewasnohesitationhere.“WhenI’mwithCalvin,Idon’tmindbeingme.”
“Youmeanhemakesyoumoreyou,don’tyou?”“Iguessyoucouldputitthatway.”“Whomakesyoufeeltheleastyou?”“Mr.Jenkins.”Proginoskesprobedsharply,“Whyareyousuddenlyupsetandfrightened?”“He’stheprincipalofthegradeschoolinthevillagethisyear.Buthewasin
myschoollastyear,andIwasalwaysgettingsenttohisoffice.Henever
understandsanything,andeverythingIdoisautomaticallywrong.CharlesWallacewouldprobablybebetteroffifheweren’tmybrother.That’senoughtofinishhimwithMr.Jenkins.”
“Isthatall?”“Whatdoyoumean?”“WhenyousayMr.Jenkins,Ifeelsuchacoldwaveofterrorwashoveryou
thatIfeelchillymyself.”“Progo—somethinghappenedlastnight—beforewemetyouandBlajeny—
whenIwasallaloneinthegarden—“Hervoicetailedoff.“Whathappened,earthling?Tellme.Ihaveafeelingthismaybeimportant.”WhyshoulditbedifficulttotellProginoskes?Thecherubimhimselfwasjust
asunbelievable.Butthecherubimwashimself,wasProginoskes,whileMr.JenkinshadnotbeenMr.Jenkins.
AsshetriedtoexplaintoProginoskesshecouldsensehimpullingaway,andsuddenlyheflungallhiswingsabouthimselfinafranticreflexofself-preservation.Thentwoeyeslookedoutatherunderonewing.“Echthroi.”Itwasanuglyword.AsProginoskesuttereditthemorningseemedcolder.
“Whatdidyousay?”Megasked.“YourMr.Jenkins—therealone—couldhedoanythingliketheoneyoujust
toldmeabout?Couldheflyintoanothingnessinthesky?Thisisnotathingthathumanbeingscando,isit?”
“No.”“Yousayhewaslikeadarkbird,butabirdthatwasnothingness,andthathe
torethesky?”“Well—that’showIrememberit.ItwasallquickandunexpectedandIwas
terrifiedandIcouldn’treallybelievethatithadhappened.”“ItsoundsliketheEchthroi.”Hecoveredhiseyesagain.“Thewhat?”Slowly,asthoughwithagreateffort,heuncoveredseveraleyes.“The
Echthroi.Oh,earthling,ifyoudonotknowEchthroi—““Idon’twantto.Notifthey’relikewhatIsawlastnight.”Proginoskesagitatedhiswings.“IthinkwemustgoseethisMr.Jenkins,the
oneyousayisatyourlittlebrother’sschool.”“Why?”
Proginoskeswithdrewintoallhiswingsagain.Megcouldfeelhimthinkinggrumpily,—Theytoldmeitwasgoingtobedifficult...Whycouldn’ttheyhavesentmeoffsomeplacequiettorecitethestarsagain?...OrI’mevenwillingtomemorizefarandolae...I’veneverbeentoEarthbefore,I’mtooyoung,I’mscaredoftheshadowedplanets,whatkindofastarhasthisplanetgot,anyhow?
Thenheemerged,slowly,onepan-ofeyesatatime.“Megling,IthinkyouhaveseenanEchthros.IfwearedealingwithEchthroi,then—Ijustknowwitheveryfeatheronmywings(andyoumighttrycountingmyfeathers,sometime)thatwehavetogoseethisMr.Jenkins.Itmustbepartofthetrial.”
“Mr.Jenkins?Partofourfirsttest?Butthat’s—itdoesn’tmakesense.”“Itdoestome.”“Progo,”sheobjected,“it’simpossible.Icanslipoffmyschoolbusandthen
walktothegradeschoolthewayIdidwhenIwenttotalktoMr.JenkinsaboutCharlesWallace—andafatlotofgoodthatdid—“
“IfyouhaveseenanEchthros,everythingisdifferent,”Proginoskessaid.“Okay,Icangettothegradeschoolallright,butIcan’tpossiblytakeyou
withme.You’resobigyouwouldn’tevenfitintotheschoolbus.Anyhow,you’dterrifyeverybody.”Atthethoughtshesmiled,butProginoskeswasnotinalaughingmood.
“Noteverybodyisabletoseeme,”hetoldher.“I’mreal,andmostearthlingscanbearverylittlereality.Butifitwillrelieveyourmind,I’lldematerialize.”Hewavedafewwingsgracefully.“It’sreallymorecomfortableformenottobeburdenedwithmatter,butIthoughtitwouldbeeasierforyouifyoucouldconversewithsomeoneyoucouldsee.”
Thecherubimwasthereinfrontofher,coveringmostofthestar-watchingrock,andthenhewasnotthere.Shethoughtshesawafaintshimmerintheair,butitmighthavebeentheapproachofdawn.Shecouldfeelhim,however,movingwithinhermind.“Areyoufeelingextremelybrave,Megling?”
“No.”Afaintlightdefinedtheeasternhorizon.Thestarsweredim,almostextinguished.
“Ithinkwe’regoingtohavetobebrave,earthchild,butitwillbeeasierbecausewe’retogether.IwonderiftheTeacherknows.”
“Knowswhat?”“Thatyou’veseenanEchthros.”
“Progo,Idon’tunderstand.WhatisanEchthros?”Abruptly,Proginoskesmaterialized,raisedseveralwings,andgatheredher
in.“Come,littleling.I’lltakeyousomeplaceyesterdayandshowyou.”“Howcanyoutakemeyesterday?”“Ican’tpossiblytakeyoutoday,silly.It’stimeforyoutogointobreakfast
andyourmotherdislikestardiness.Andwhoknowswhatwemayhavetodoorwherewemayhavetogobeforetomorrow?Come.”Hedrewherfurtherintohim.
Shefoundherselflookingdirectlyintooneofhiseyes,agreat,ambercat’seye,thedarkmandalaofthepupil,opening,compelling,beckoning.
Shewasdrawntowardstheoval,waspulledintoit,wasthroughit.Intotheultimatenightontheotherside.Thenshefeltagreat,flamingwind,andknewthatsomehowsheherselfwas
partofthatwind.Thenshefeltagreatshove,andshewasstanding,onabarestonemountain
top,andProginoskeswasblinkingandwinkingather.Shethoughtshesawtheoval,mandala-eyethroughwhichshehadcome,butshewasnotsure.
Thecherubimraisedagreatwingtosketchtheslowcurveofskyabovethem.Thewarmroseandlavenderofsunsetfaded,dimmed,wasextinguished.Theskywasdrenchedwithgreenatthehorizon,mutingupwardsintoadeep,purplybluethroughwhichstarsbegantoappearintotallyunfamiliarconstellations.
Megasked,“Wherearewe?”“Nevermindwhere.Watch.”Shestoodbesidehim,lookingatthebrillianceofthestars.Thencamea
sound,asoundwhichwasabovesound,beyondsound,aviolent,silent,electricalreport,whichmadeherpressherhandsinpainagainstherears.Acrossthesky,wherethestarswereclusteredasthicklyasintheMilkyWay,acrackshivered,slivered,becamealineofnothingness.‘
Ifthiskindofthingwashappeningintheuniverse,nomatterhowfarawayfromearthandtheMilkyWay,MegdidnotwonderthatherfatherhadbeensummonedtoWashingtonandBrookhaven.
“Progo,whatisit?Whathappened?”“TheEchthroihaveXed.”
“What?”“Annihilated.Negated.Extinguished.Xed.”Megstaredinhorriblefascinationattherentinthesky.Thiswasthemost
terriblethingshehadeverseen,morehorrifyingthantheMr.Jenkins-Echthrosthenightbefore.Shepressedclosetothecherubim,surroundingherselfwithwingsandeyesandpuffsofsmoke,butshecouldstillseetheripinthesky.
Shecouldnotbearit.Sheclosedhereyestoshutitout.Shetriedtothinkofthemostcomfortable
thingpossible,thesafest,mostreasonable,ordinarything.What,then?Thedinnertableathome:winter:theredcurtainsdrawnacrossthewindows,andaquietsnowfallingsoftlyoutdoors;anapplewoodfireinthefireplaceandFortinbrassnoringhappilyonthehearth;atapeplayingHoist’sThePlanets—no,maybethatwasn’ttoocomforting;inhermind’searsheshiftedtoaghastlyrecordingoftheschoolband,withSandyandDennysplayingsomewhereinthecacophony.
Dinnerwasover,andshewasclearingthetableandstartingthedishesandonlyhalflisteningtotheconversationofherparents,whowerelingeringovertheircoffee.
Itwasalmostastangibleasthoughshewereactuallythere,andshethoughtshefeltProginoskespushingathermind,helpingherremember.
Hadshereallylistenedthatattentivelytoherparentswhileshestoodrunninghotwaterovertheplates?Theirvoiceswereasclearasthoughshewereactuallyintheroom.
HerfathermusthavementionedtheterriblethingwhichProginoskeshad-justshownher,theterriblethingwhichwasterriblepreciselybecauseitwasnotathing,becauseitwasnothing.Shecouldhear,tooclearly,herfather’svoice,calmandrational,speakingtohermother.“Itisn’tjustindistantgalaxiesthatstrange,unreasonablethingsarehappening.Unreasonhascreptuponussoinsidiouslythatwe’vehardlybeenawareofit.Butthinkofthethingsgoingoninourowncountrywhichyouwouldn’thavebelievedpossibleonlyafewyearsago.”
Mrs.Murryswirledthedregsofhercoffee.“Idon’tthinkIbelieveallofthemnow,althoughIknowthey’rehappening.”Shelookeduptoseethatthe.twinsandCharlesWallacewereoutoftheroom,thatMegwassplashingwaterinthesinkasshescouredapot.“Tenyearsagowedidn’tevenhaveakeytothishouse.Nowwelockupwhenwegoout.Theirrationalviolenceisevenworsein
thecities.”Mr.Murryabsent-mindedlybeganworkingoutanequationonthetablecloth.
ForonceMrs.Murrydidnotevenseemtonotice.Hesaid,“They’veneverknownatimewhenpeopledrankrainwaterbecauseitwaspure,orcouldeatsnow,orswiminanyriverorbrook.ThelasttimeIdrovehomefromWashingtonthetrafficwassobadIcouldhavemadebettertimewithahorse.TherewerehugesignsproclaimingSPEEDLIMIT65MPH,andwewerecrawlingalongat20.”
“AndthechildrenandIkeptdinnerhotforyouforthreehours,andfinallyate,pretendingweweren’tworriedthatyoumighthavebeeninanaccident,”Mrs.Murrysaidbitterly.“Hereweare,attheheightofcivilizationinawell-runstateinagreatdemocracy.Andfourten-year-oldswerepickeduplastweekforpushingharddrugsintheschoolwhereoursix-year-oldisregularlygivenblackeyesandabloodynose.”Shesuddenlynoticedtheequationgrowingonthetablecloth.“Whatareyoudoing?”‘
“Ihaveahunchthatthere’ssomeconnectionbetweenyourdiscoveriesabouttheeffectsoffarandolaeonmitochondria,andthatunexplainedphenomenonoutinspace.”Hispenciladdedafraction,someGreekcharacters,andsquaredthem.
Mrs.Murrysaidinalowvoice,“Mydiscoveriesarenotverypleasant.”“Iknow.”“Iisolatedfarandolaebecausesomethingbeyondincreasingairpollutionhas
toaccountfortheacceleratingnumberofdeathsfromrespiratoryfailure,andthisso-calledfluepidemic.Itwasthemicro-sonarscopewhichgavemethefirstclue—“Shestoppedabruptly,lookedatherhusband.“It’sthesamesound,isn’tit?Thestrange‘cry*oftheailingmitochondria,andthe‘cry’pickedupinthosedistantgalaxiesbythenewparaboloidoscope—there’sahorridsimilaritybetweenthem.Idon’tlikeit.Idon’tlikethefactthatwedon’tevenseewhat’sgoingoninourownbackyard.L.A.istryingashonorablyasapresidentcantryinaworldwhichhasbecomesobluntedbydishonorandviolencethatpeoplecasuallytakeitforgranted.Wehavetoseeagreat,dramaticfissureintheskybeforewebegintotakedangerseriously.AndIhavetobedeathlyworriedaboutouryoungestchildbeforeIregardfarandolaeexceptinacoolandacademicmanner.”
Meghadturnedfromthekitchensinkatthepaininhermother’svoice,andhadseenherfatherreachacrossthetableforhermother’shand.“Mydear,thisisnotlikeyou.WithmyintellectIseecausefornothingbutpessimismandeven
despair.ButIcan’tsettleforwhatmyintellecttellsme.That’snotallofit.”“Whatelseisthere?”Mrs.Murry’svoicewaslowandanguished.“Therearestillstarswhichmoveinorderedandbeautifulrhythm.Thereare
stillpeopleinthisworldwhokeeppromises.Evenlittleones,likeyourcookingstewoveryourBunsenburner.Youmaybeinthemiddleofanexperiment,butyoustillremembertofeedyourfamily.That’senoughtokeepmyheartoptimistic,nomatterhowpessimisticmymind.AndyouandIhavegoodenoughmindstoknowhowverylimitedandfinitetheyreallyare.Thenakedintellectisanextraordinarilyinaccurateinstrument.”
Proginoskessaid,“He’sawiseman,yourfather.”“Couldyouhearmeremembering?”“Iwasrememberingwithyou.Mostofthatconversationyoudidn’thear
withyourconsciousmind,youknow.”-“Ihaveaverygoodmemory—“Megstarted.Thenshestoppedherself.
“Okay.IknowIcouldn’thaverememberedallthatbymyself.IsupposeIjustsortoftookinthesoundwaves,didn’tI?Buthowdidyougetitallfromme?”
Proginoskeslookedatherwithtwo,ringedowl-likeeyes.“You’rebeginningtolearnhowtokythe.”
“Towhat?”“Kythe.It’showcherubimtalk.It’stalkingwithoutwords,justthesameway
thatIcanbemyselfandnotbeenfleshed.”“ButIhavetobeenfleshed,andIneedwords.”“Iknow,Meg,”herepliedgently,“andIwillkeepthingswordedforyou.
Butitwillhelpifyouwillrememberthatcherubimkythewithoutwordsamongeachother.Forahumancreatureyoushowadistincttalentforkything.”
Sheblushedslightlyatthecompliment;shehadafeelingthatpayingcomplimentsisahabitnotoftenindulgedinbycherubim.“Progo,IwishI’dbeenabletoseetheequationFatherwasdoodlingonthetablecloth.IfI’dseenit,thenitmightbesomewhereinmymindforyoutopullout.”
“Think,”Proginoskessaid.“I’llhelp.”“Motherputthetableclothinthewash.”“ButyourememberthereweresomeGreekletters.”“Yes...”“Letmetrytofindthemwithyou.”
Sheclosedhereyes.“That’sright.Relax,now.Maybethisisthewayforustokythe.—Don’t
youtrytothink.Justletmemoveabout.”Outofthecornerofhermind’seyesheseemedtoseethreeGreekcharacters
amongthenumbersinthelooselystrungequationherfatherwasscribblingonthecloth.ShethoughtthematProginoskes.
“exo-Epsilon,chi,andtheta.That’sEchth,”thecherubimtoldher.“Echthroi—buthowcouldFather—““Thinkoftheconversationwejustrecalled,Meg.Yourparentsarevery
awareoftheevilintheworld.”“Allright.Yes.Iknow.Okay.”Megsoundedcross,“UntilCharlesstarted
schoolIhopedmaybewecouldignoreit.Likeostrichesorsomething.”Thecherubimwithdrewitswingsfromherentirely,leavingherexposedand
coldonthestrangehilltop.“Openyoureyesandlookwheretheskyistorn.”“I’drathernot.”“Goon.I’vegotallmyeyesopen,andyouonlyhavetoopentwo.”Megopenedhereyes.Therentintheskywasstillthere.Shewonderedwhat
thisdistantphenomenoncouldhavetodowithCharlesWallace’spallor,withmitochondritis,orwhateveritwas.“How—oh,Progo,howdidtheEchthroidothat?”
LikeCharlesWallace,hepickedupherparticularanxiety.“Ithastodowithun-Naming.IfweareNamers,theEchthroiareun-Namers,non-Namers.”
“Progo,whatdoesthathavetodowithMr.Jenkins?”Shefeltawaveofapprehensionrollthroughher.“Littleling,Ithinkthatis
whatwemustfindout.Ithinkthatitispartofourfirstordeal.Letusgo.”Hedrewherbackintohimselfagain;againshewasconfrontedwiththesingleeye,waspulledthroughtheopening,ovalpupil.Thenthepupilsnappedshut,andtheyweretogetheronthestar-watchingrockwithdawnslowlylighteningtheeast.
Progospreadhiswingswide,andshemovedout.“Whatdowedonow?”hesaid.
Thecherubimwasaskingher?“Iamonlyahumanbeing,notquitefull-grown,”shereplied.“HowwouldIknow?”
“Megling,I’veneverbeenonyourplanetbefore.Thisisyourhome.Charles
Wallaceisyourbrother.YouaretheonewhoknowsMr.Jenkins.Youmusttellmewhatwearetodonow.”
Megstamped,loudlyandangrily,againstthehard,coldsurfaceoftherock.“Thisistoomuchresponsibility!I’mstillonlyachild!Ididn’taskforanyofthis!”
“Areyourefusingtotakethetest?”Proginoskespulledawayfromher.“ButIdidn’taskforit!Ididn’taskforBlajeny,oryou,oranyofit!”“Didn’tyou?IthoughtyouwereworriedaboutCharlesWallace.”“Iam!I’mworriedabouteverything!”“Meg.”Proginoskeswassomberandstern.“Areyougoingtoenterintothe
ordeal?Imustknow.Now.”Megstampedagain.“OfcourseI’mgoingto.YouknowIhaveto.Charles
Wallaceisindanger.I’lldoanythingtohelphim,evenifitseemssilly.”“Thenwhatdowedonow?”Sheshovedatherglassesasthoughthatwouldhelpherthink.“I’dbettergo
homenowandhavebreakfast.ThenI’llgetonmyschoolbus—itstopsatthebottomofthehillandmaybeyou’dbetterwaitformethere.Fortinbrasmightbarkatyou;I’msurehe’dknowyouwereinthehouseevenifyoudematerialize,orwhateveryoucallit.”
“Whateveryouthinkbest,”Proginoskessaidmeekly.“I’llbedownatthefootoftheroadatseveno’clock.Thehigh-schoolbus
coverssomuchdistanceandmakessomanystopsittakesanhourandahalf,andIgetonatoneofthefirststops.”
Shefeltanacquiescingresponsefromthecherubim,andthenhedisappeared;shecouldnotseeevenashimmer,orfeelaflickerofhiminhermind.Sheheadedbacktothehouse.Shekepttheflashlighton,notfortheknownturningsofthepath,butforwhatevernew,unknownsurprisesmightbewaitingforher.
WhenMeggottothestonewallLouisetheLargerwasthere.Waiting.Neithergreetingnorattacking.Waiting.Megapproachedhercautiously.Louisewatchedherthrougheyeswhichshoneintheflashlightlikethewaterofaverydeepwell.
“MayIgoby,please,Louise?”Megaskedtimidly.Louiseuncoiled,wavingslightlyingreeting,stilllookingintentlyatMeg.
Thenshebowedherhead,andslitheredoffintotherocks.MegfeltthatLouise
hadbeenwaitingforhertogiveherawarningforwhateverlayahead,andtowishherwell.ItwasstrangelycomfortingtoknowthatLouise’swell-wishingwasgoingwithher.
Therewassausageaswellashotporridgeforbreakfast.Megfeltthatsheoughttoeatheartily,becausewhoknewwhatlayahead?Butshecouldmanageonlyafewmouthfuls.
“Areyouallright,Meg?”hermotherasked.“Fine.Thanks.”“Youlookalittlepale.Sureyouaren’tcomingdownwithsomething?”She’sworriedaboutallofuswiththismitochondritisstuff.“Justthenormal
throesofadolescence,”shesmiledathermother.Sandysaid,“Ifyoudon’twantyoursausage,I’lleatit.”Dennyssaid,“Halfforme,okay?”CharlesWallaceslowlyanddeliberatelyateafullbowlofporridge,butgave
thetwinshissausage.“Well,then”—Megwashedherdishesandputthemintherack—“I’moff.”“Waitforus,”Sandysaid.Shedidnotwanttowaitforthetwins,tolistentotheirchatteronthewalk
downtothebus.Ontheotherhand,itwouldkeepherfromthinkingaboutwhatlayahead.ShehadthoughtofMr.Jenkinsforasfarbackasshecouldrememberwithdistaste,annoyance,andoccasionallyoutrage,butneverbeforewithfear.
Whensheleftthehouseshehadahorrid,premonitoryfeelingthatitwouldbealongtimebeforeshereturned.AgainshewishedthatFortinbraswerewalkingtothebuswiththem,asheoftendid,andthenreturningtomakethewalkagainwithCharlesWallace.Butthismorningheshowednoinclinationtoleavethewarmthofthekitchen.
“Whatdoyousupposewillhappentoday?”Sandyaskedastheystarteddownthehillinthechillofearlymorning.
Dennysshrugged.“Nothing.Asusual.Raceyoutothefootofthehill.”
5TheFirstTest.Megandthecherubimreachedthedesertedschoolyardinsafety.“We’vegotawhiletowait,”Megtoldhim,“andit’sokayforyou,you’re
invisible.ButI’vegottofindaplacetohide.”ShecouldnotseeProginoskes,butshetalkedatthefaintshimmerintheairwheresheknewhewas.
“You’retoolate,”thecherubimsaid,andMegswungaroundtoseeMr.Jenkinscomingacrosstheschoolyardfromthefacultyparkinglot.
Mr.Jenkins.Theordinary,everyday,usualMr.Jenkins.Therewasnosnakehissingandclackingathim,andhehimselfdidnothingbutcontinuehiswayacrosstheschoolyard.Helookedjustashealwayslooked.Heworehisusualdarkbusinesssuit,andnomatterhowoftenitwasbrushedtherewasalwaysasmallsnowfallofdandruffonhisshoulders.Hissalt-and-pepperhairwascutshort,andhiseyesweremuddybehindhisbifocals.Hewasneithershortnortall,fatnorthin,andwheneverMegsawhimherfeetseemedtogrowlargerandshecouldn’tfindarestingplaceforherhands.
“Allright,Margaret,whatisthis?Whatareyoudoinghere?”Hehadeveryrighttosoundannoyed.
Shehadnothingtoreply.ShefeltProginoskesclosetoher,felthismindwithinhers,buthehadnothingtosuggest.
“Mydearchild,”Mr.Jenkinssaid,andhisvoicewasun-wontedlycompassionate.“Ifyouhavecomeagainaboutyourlittlebrother,Icannowtellyouthatwearereviewinghiscase.Itisnotmypolicyofeducationtohaveonechildintimidatedbyhispeers.ButourinitialtestingshowsthatCharlesWallace’stalentsaresounusualthatunusualmeasuresmustbetaken.I’vehadseveralconsultationswiththeStateBoard,andweareconsideringgettingaspecialtutorforhim.”
Meglookedwarilyattheprincipal.Thissoundedtoogoodtobetrue.AndLouisehadbeentryingtowarnherofsomething.Ofwhat?Thecherubim,too,wasuneasy.Shefelthimmovinglightlyinhermind,
feelingherresponsetothisunexpectedlyreasonableMr.Jenkins.“Thatisnonsense,”Mr.JenkinssaidtoMr.Jenkins.“Wecannotmakean
exceptionforanyonechild.CharlesWallaceMurrymustlearntomanage.”AsecondMr.JenkinswasstandingbesideMr.Jenkins.Itwasimpossible.Itwasjustasimpossibleas—
Butthereweretwoidentical,dourMr.Jenkinsesstandinginfrontofher.Proginoskesshimmered,butdidnotmaterialize.Megbackedintothe
shimmer;shefeltthatthecherubimwasopeninganinvisiblewingandpullingherclosetohim.Shecouldfeelhistremendous,wildheartbeat,afrightenedheartbeat,thunderinginherears.
“We’reNamers,”sheheardthroughtheracingoftheheart.“We’reNamers.WhatistheirName?”
“Mr.Jenkins.”“No,no.Thisisthetest,Meg,itmustbe.OneofthoseMr.Jenkinsesisan
Echthros,WehavetoknowwhichistherealMr.Jenkins.”Meglookedatthetwomenwhostoodglaringateachother.“Progo,youcan
feelintome.Can’tyoufeelintothem?Can’tyoukythe?”.“NotwhenIdon’tknowwhotheyare.You’retheonewhoknowsthe
prototype.”“Thewhat?”“Therealone.TheonlyMr.JenkinswhoisMr.Jenkins.Look—“SuddenlybesidethetwoMr.JenkinsesstoodathirdMr.Jenkins.Heraised
onehandingreeting,nottoMeg,buttotheothertwomenashedrewlevelwiththem.“Leavethepoorgirlaloneforafewminutes,”Mr.JenkinsThreesaid.
Thethreemenwheeled,stiffly,likemarionettes,andwalkedacrosstheschoolyardandintothebuilding.
“Wemustthink.Wemustthink.”Proginoskes’skythealmostbecameopaqueforasecond,andMegfeltthathewasrestraininghimselffromspoutingfire.
Megsaid,“Progo,ifyoureallyareacherubim—“Therewasagreatandsurginginvisiblewaveofindignationallaroundher.Shehittheclenchedfistofonehandagainstthepalmoftheother.“Wait.
Youtoldmetothink,andI’mthinking.”“Youdon’thavetothinkoutloud.Youdon’thavetotalktothink,afterall.
You’redeafeningme.Trytokythewithme,Meg.”“Istilldon’tunderstandkything.Isitlikementaltelepathy?”Proginoskeshesitated.“Youmightsaythatmentaltelepathyisthevery
beginningoflearningtokythe.Butthecherubiclanguageisentirelykything—withyou,withstars,withgalaxies,withthesaltintheocean,theleavesofthe
trees.”“ButI’mnotacherubim.HowdoIdoit?”“Meg,yourbrainstoresallthesensoryimpressionsitreceives,butyour
consciousminddoesn’thaveakeytothestorehouse.AllIwantyoutodoistoopenyourselfuptomesothatIcanopenthedoortoyourmind’sstorehouse.”
“Allright.I’lltry.”Toopenherselfentirelytothecherubim,tomakeherselfcompletelyvulnerable,wasnotgoingtobeeasy.ButshetrustedProginoskesimplicitly.“Listen,”shesaid,“cherubimhavecometomyplanetbefore.”
“Iknowthat.WheredoyouthinkIgotmyinformation?”“Whatdoyouknowaboutus?”“Ihaveheardthatyourhostplanetisshadowed,thatitistroubled.”“It’sbeautiful,”Megsaiddefensively.Shefeltaripplingofhiswings.“Inthemiddleofyourcities?”“Well—no—butIdon’tliveinacity.”“Andisyourplanetpeaceful?”“Well,no—itisn’tverypeaceful.”“Ihadtheidea,”Proginoskesmovedreluctantlywithinhermind,“thatthere
arewarsonyourplanet.Peoplefightingandkillingeachother.”“Yes,that’sso,but—““Andchildrengohungry.”“Yes.”“Andpeopledon’tunderstandeachother.”“Notalways.”“Andthere’s—there’shate?”“Yes.”ShefeltProginoskespullingaway.“AllIwanttodo,”hewasmurmuringto
himself,“isgosomeplacequietandrecitethenamesofthestars...”“Progo!YousaidwewereNamers.Istilldon’tknow:whatisaNamer?”“I’vetoldyou.ANamerhastoknowwhopeopleare,andwhotheyare
meanttobe.Idon*tknowwhyIshouldhavebeenshockedatfindingEchthroionyourplanet.”
“Whyaretheyhere?”“Echthroiarealwaysaboutwhenthere’swar.Theystartallwar.”
‘”Progo,Isawallthatawfulnessyoutookmetosee,thattearingofthesky,andall,butyoustillhaven’ttoldmeexactlywhatEchthroiare.”
Proginoskesprobedintohermind,searchingforwordsshecouldunderstand.“Ithinkyourmythologywouldcallthemfallenangels.Warandhatearetheirbusiness,andoneoftheirchiefweaponsisun-Naming—makingpeoplenotknowwhotheyare.Ifsomeoneknowswhoheis,reallyknows,thenhedoesn’tneedtohate.That’swhywestillneedNamers,becausethereareplacesthroughouttheuniverselikeyourplanetEarth.WheneveryoneisreallyandtrulyNamed,thentheEchthroiwillbevanquished.”
“Butwhat—““Oh,earthling,earthling,whydoyouthinkBlajenycalledforyou?Thereis
warinheaven,andweneedallthehelpwecanget.TheEchthroiarespreadingthroughtheuniverse.EverytimeastargoesoutanotherEchthroshaswonabattle.Astarorachildorafarandola—sizedoesn’tmatter,Meg.TheEchthroiareafterCharlesWallaceandthebalanceoftheentireuniversecanbealteredbytheoutcome.”
“ButProgo,whatdoesthishavetodowithourtest—andwiththreeMr.Jenkinses—it’sinsane.”
Proginoskesrespondedcoldlyandquietly.“Precisely.”Intothecoldandquietcamethesoundoftheschoolbusesarriving,doors
opening,childrenrushingoutandintotheschoolbuilding.CharlesWallacewasoneofthosechildren.Proginoskesmovedquietlyinhermindthroughtheroar.“Don’t
misunderstandme,Meg.ItisthewaysoftheEchthroiwhichareinsane.ThewaysoftheTeachersareoftenstrange,buttheyareneverhaphazard.IknowthatMr.Jenkinshastohavesomethingtodowithit,somethingimportant,orwewouldn’tbehere.”
Megsaid,unhappily,“IfIhateMr.JenkinswheneverIthinkofhim,amINaminghim?”
Proginoskesshiftedhiswings.“You’reXinghim,justliketheEchthroi.”“Progo!”“Meg,whenpeopledon’tknowwhotheyare,theyareopeneithertobeing
Xed,orNamed.”“AndyouthinkI’msupposedtoNameMr.Jenkins?”Itwasaridiculous
idea;nomatterhowmanyMr.Jenkinsestherewere,hewasMr.Jenkins.That’s
all.ButProginoskeswasmostdefinite.“Yes.”Megcriedrebelliously,“Well,Ithinkit’sasillykindoftest.”“Whatyouthinkisnotthepoint.Whatyoudoiswhat’sgoingtocount.”“HowcanitpossiblyhelpCharles?”“Idon’tknow.Wedon’thavetoknoweverythingatonce.Wejustdoone
thingatatime,asitisgivenustodo.”“ButhowdoIdoit?HowdoINameMr.JenkinswhenallIthinkofwhenI
seehimishowawfulheis?”Proginoskessighedandflungseveralwingsheavenwardssoviolentlythathe
liftedseveralfeet,materialized,andcamedownwithathud.“There’saword—butifIsayityou’lljustmisunderstand.”
“Youhavetosayit.”“It’safour-letterword.Aren’tfour-letterwordsconsideredthebadoneson
yourplanet?”“Comeon.I’veseenallthefour-letterwordsonthewallsofthewashroomat
school.”Proginoskesletoutasmallpuff.“Luff.”“What?”“Love.That’swhatmakespersonsknowwhotheyare.You’refulloflove,
Meg,butyoudon’tknowhowtostaywithinitwhenit’snoteasy.”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Oh—youloveyourfamily.That’seasy.Sometimeswhenyoufeelawful
aboutsomebody,yougetbackintotightnessbythinkingabout—well,youseemtobetellingmethatyougotbackintoloveoncebythinkingaboutCharlesWallace.”
“Yes—““Butthistimeitcan’tbeeasy.Youhavetogoontothenextstep.”“IfyoumeanyouthinkIhavetoloveMr.Jenkins,you’vegotanotherthink
coming,”Megsnapped.Proginoskesgaveamightysigh.“Ifwepassthetest,you’llgoonandbe
taught—oh,someofthethingsIwastaughtmyfirstbillenniumwiththeTeachers.IhadtopassagalaxyoftestsbeforeIcouldqualifyasaStar’Namer.Butyou’reahumanbeing,andit’sallquitedifferentwithyou.Ikeepforgetting
that.AmIlovable?Toyou?”AllaboutMeg,eyesopenedandshut;wingsshifted;asmallflameburned
herhandandwasrapidlywithdrawn.Shecoughedandthensuckedtheburnedplaceonherhand.ButallshewantedwastoputherarmsaroundProginoskesasshewouldaroundCharlesWallace.“Verylovable,”shesaid.
“Butyoudon’tlovemethewayyoulovethatskinnyCalvin?”“That’sdifferent.”“Ithoughtso;That’stheconfusingkind.Notthekindyouhavetohavein
ordertoNameMr.Jenkins.”“IhateMr.Jenkins.”“Meg,it’sthetest.YouhavetoNametherealMr.Jenkins,andIhavetohelp
you.Ifyoufail,Ifailtoo.”“Thenwhatwouldhappen?”“It’syourfirsttimewithaTeacher.Anditwouldbeyourlast.”“Andyou?”“WhenonehasbeenwiththeTeachersasoftenasIhave,oneisgivena
choice.IcouldthrowinmylotwiththeEchthroi—““What!”“Quiteafewofthosewhofaildo.”“ButtheEchthroiare—““Youknowwhattheyare.Skytearers.Lightsnuffers.Planetdarkeners.The
dragons.Theworms.Thosewhohate.”“Progo,youcouldn’t.”“IhopeIcouldn’t.Butothershave.It’snotaneasychoice.”“Ifyoudon’tgototheEchthroi—“AllProginoskes’seyeswereshieldedbyhiswings.“IamaNamer,The
Echthroiwouldun-Name.IfIdonotgowiththem,thenImustXmyself.”“What!?”“I’llaskyouariddle.Whatdoyouhavethemoreof,themoreofityougive
away?”“Oh,love,Isuppose.”“So,ifIcaremoreaboutNamingthananythingelse,thenmaybeIhaveto
givemyselfaway,ifit’stheonlywaytoshowmylove.Allthewayaway.ToX
myself.”“Ifyoudoit—Xyourself—doesitlastforever?”Megaskedapprehensively.“Nobodyknows.Nobodywillknowtilltheendoftime.”“DoIhavethatchoice,too,if—ifwefail?”Sheturnedawayfromtheschool
building,towardstheearly-morningshoutsandwhistles,andpressedherfaceagainstthesoftfeathersofonegreatpinion.
“Itisnotanoptiongiventomortals,earthling.”“AllthathappenstomeisthatIgohome?”“Ifyoucancallitall.Therewouldberejoicinginhell.Butperhapsyoudon’t
believeinhell?”Megpushedthisaside.“Butifwefail,thenyou—”“Imustchoose.It’sbettertoXmyselfthantobeXedbytheEchthroi.”“Whatyoutookmetosee—itwaswhatMothertalkedaboutatthedinner
table,whatFather’sgonetoBrookhavenabout—itdoesn’tseemtohavemuchtodowithMr.Jenkins.It’sallsocosmic,sobig—“
“Itisn’tsizethatmatters,Meg.Rightnowit’sCharlesWallace.TheEchthroiwouldannihilateCharlesWallace.”
“Alittleboy!”“You’vesaidyourselfthathe’saspeciallittleboy.”“Heis,oh,heis.”Shegaveastartledjumpasthefirstbellwentoffinsidethe
schoolbuilding,strident,demanding.“Progo,Idon’tunderstandanyofit,butifyouthinkNamingMr.JenkinsisgoingtohelpCharlesWallace,I’lldomybest.Youwillhelpme?”
“I’lltry.”ButProginoskesdidnotsoundconfident.Fromallaroundthemcametheusualschooldaydin.
Thenthedoortothecafeteria/gymopened,andaMr.Jenkinscameout.WhichMr.Jenkins?Therewasnotellingthemapart.Meglookedtothecherubim,buthehaddematerializedagain,leavingonlyashimmertoshowwherehewas.
Mr.Jenkinscametoher.Shecheckedhisshoulders.Therewasthedandruff.Shewentcloser:smelled:yes,hehadtheMr.Jenkinssmellofoldhaircreamandwhatshealwaysthoughtofasranciddeodorant.ButallthreeoftheMr.Jenkinsescouldmanagethatmuch,shewassure.Itwasnotgoingtobethateasy.
Helookedathercoldlyintheusualway,downonesideofhisslightlycrookednose.“IassumethatyouareasconfusedbyallthisasIam,Margaret.WhytwostrangemenshouldwishtoimpersonatemeIhavenoidea.Itismostinconvenient,justatthebeginningofschool,whenIamalreadyoverworked.Iamtoldthatithassomethingtodowithyouaswellasyourunfortunatelittlebrother.Ihadhopedthatthisyearyou,atleast,wouldnotbeoneofmyproblems.ItseemstomeIhavehadtospendmoretimewithyouthanwithanyotherstudentinschool.Itiscertainlymymisfortune.AndnownotonlydoIhavetocopewithyourlittlebrother,whoisequallydifficult,buthereyouareagain.”
ThiswasMr.Jenkins.Hehadplayeduponthethemeofthisspeechwithinfinitevariationsalmosteverytimeshewassenttohisoffice.
“Forsomereasonobscuretome,youaresupposedtochoosebetweentheimpostorsandme.Itiscertainlyinmyintereststohaveyoupassthisabsurdtest.ThenperhapsIcankeepyououtofmyschool.”
“Andthen,”saidMr.JenkinsTwo,appearingbesideMr.JenkinsOne,“Iwillhavetimetoconcentrateonpresentproblemsinsteadofthosewhichoughttobepast.Now,Meg,ifyouwilljustforonceinyourlifedoitmyway,notyours...Iunderstandyou’rebasicallyquitebrightinmathematics.IfyouwouldsimplystopapproachingeachprobleminyourlifeasthoughyouwereEinsteinandhadtosolvetheproblemsoftheuniverse,andwoulddeigntofollowoneortwobasicrules,you—andI—wouldhaveagreatdeallesstrouble.”
This,too,wasauthenticJenkins.Theshimmerofthecherubimwavereduneasily.“Meg,”Mr.JenkinsTwosaid,“Iurgeyoutoresolvethisnonsenseandtell
theimpostorsthatIamMr.Jenkins.Thiswholefarceiswastingagreatdealoftime.IamMr.Jenkins,asyouhavecausetoknow.”
ShefeltProginoskesprobingwildly.“Meg,whenhaveyoubeenmostyou,theverymostyou?”
Sheclosedhereyes.SherememberedthefirstafternoonCalvinhadcometotheMurrys’.Calvinwasanhonorstudent,buthewasfarbetterwithwordsthanwithnumbers,andMeghadhelpedhimwithatrigonometryproblem.SincetrigwasnottaughtinMeg’sgrade,hereasycompetencewasoneofherfirstsurprisesforCalvin.Butatthetimeshehadnotthoughtofsurprisinghim.ShehadconcentratedwhollyonCalvin,onwhathewasdoing,andshehadfeltwhollyaliveandherself.
“Howisthatgoingtohelp?”sheaskedthecherubim.“Think.Youdidn’tknowCalvinverywellthen,didyou?”“No.”“Butyoulovedhim,didn’tyou?”“Then?Iwasn’tthinkingaboutlove.Iwasjustthinkingabouttrig.”“Well,then,”Proginoskessaid,asthoughthatexplainedtheentirenatureof
love.“ButIcan’tthinkabouttrigwithMr.Jenkins.AndIcan’tlovehim.”“Youloveme.”“But,Progo,you’resoawfulyou’relovable.”“Soishe.AndyouhavetoNamehim.”AthirdMr.Jenkinsjoinedtheothertwo.“Meg.Stoppanickingandlistento
me.”Thethreemenstoodsidebyside,identical,grey,dour,unperceptive,
overworked:unlovable.“Meg,”Mr.JenkinsTwosaid,“ifyouwillNameme,andquickly,Iwillsee
toitthatCharlesWallacegetsintocompetentmedicalhandsimmediately.”“It’shardlythateasy,”Mr.JenkinsThreesaid.“Afterall,herparents—““—donotknowhowtohandlethesituation,nordotheyunderstandhow
seriousitis,”Mr.JenkinsTwosnapped.Mr.JenkinsThreewavedthisaside.“Meg,doesitnotseemextraordinaryto
youthatyoushouldbeconfrontedwiththreeofme?”Thereseemedtobenoanswertothisquestion.Mr.JenkinsOneshruggedinannoyance.Mr.JenkinsTwosaid,“Itisimperativethatwesticktoessentialsatthis
point.Ournumberisperipheral.”TherealMr.Jenkinswasveryfondofdiscardingperipheralsandstickingtoessentials.
Mr.JenkinsThreesaid,“Thatthereisonlyoneofme,andthatIamhe,isthemainpoint.”
Mr.JenkinsTwosnorted.“ExceptforthesmallbutimportantfactthatIamhe.Thistrialthathasbeenbroughtonusisanextraordinaryone.Noneofus—thatis,youandI,Margaret—willeverbethesameagain.Beingconfrontedwiththesetwomirrorvisionsofmyselfhasmademeseemyselfdifferently.Noneofuslikestoseehimselfashemustappeartoothers.Iunderstandyourpointof
viewmuchbetterthanIdidbefore.Youwerequiterighttocometomeaboutyourlittlebrother.Heisindeedspecial,andIhavecometotheconclusionthatIhavemadeamistakeinnotrealizingthis,andtreatinghimaccordingly.”
“Don’ttrusthim,”Mr.JenkinsThreesaid.Mr.JenkinsTwoswepton.“IbelievethatyouandIhada—shallwecallita
run-in?—overtheimportsandexportsofNicaragua,whichyouweresupposedtolearnforoneofyoursocial-studiesclasses.YouwerequiterightwhenyouinsistedthatitwasunnecessaryforyoutolearntheimportsandexportsofNicaragua.IshalltrynottomakethesamekindofmistakewithCharlesWallace.IfCharlesWallace’sinterestsaredifferentfromthoseofourusualfirst-grader,wewilltrytounderstandthathehasbeentaughtbyaneminentphysicistfather.Iamsorryforalltheneedlesspainyouhavebeencaused.AndIcanassureyouthatifyouNameme,CharlesWallacewillfindschoolapleasanterplace,andIhavenodoubthishealthwillimprove.”
MeglookedwarilyatMr.JenkinsTwo.Thiswas,indeed,achangedMr.Jenkins,andshedidnottrustthechange.Ontheotherhand,sherememberedvividlythebattletheyhadhadovertheimportsandexportsofNicaragua.
Mr.JenkinsThreemurmured,“Methinksthegentlemandothprotesttoomuch.”
Mr.JenkinsTwosputtered,“What’sthat?”Mr.JenkinsOnelookedblank.Mr.JenkinsThreecriedtriumphantly,“Icouldhavetoldyouhewouldnot
recognizeShakespeare.Heisanimpostor.”MeghadherdoubtswhetherornottherealMr.Jenkinswouldrecognize
Shakespeare.Mr.JenkinsTwosaid,“Shakespeareisperipheral.IfIhaveoftenbeen
irritableinthepastitisbecauseIhavebeenworried.Despiteyourunkindopinionofme,Idonotlikeseeinganyofmychildrenunhappy.”Hesniffed.
Mr.JenkinsOnelookeddownhisnose.“IfIhadthecooperationoftheSchoolBoardandtheP.T.A.itmightuntiemyhandssothatIcouldaccomplishsomething.”
Meglookedatthethreemenintheiridenticalbusinesssuits.“It’slikeagameontelevision.”
“Itisnotagame,”Mr.JenkinsThreesaidsharply.“Thestakesaremuchtoohigh.”
Megasked,“Whathappenstoyou—allofyou—ifINamethewrongone?”
Foramomentalltheatomsofairintheschoolyardseemedtoshiver;itwasasthoughalightningboltofnothingnesshadflashedacrosstheschoolyard,rippingthefabricoftheatmosphere,thenclosedtogetheragain.Althoughnothinghadbeenvisible,Megthoughtofadarkandterriblevultureslashingacrossthesky.
Mr.JenkinsOnesaid,“Idonotbelieveinthesupernatural.Butthisentiresituationisabnormal.”Hisrabbitynosewriggledinpinkdistaste.
Thenallthreemenswungaroundasthesidedoortotheschoolopened,andCharlesWallace,LouisetheLargertwinedaroundhisarmandshoulders,walkeddownthestepsandacrosstheschoolyard.
6TheRealMr.Jenkins.“Charles!”Megcried.AllthreeMr.Jenkinsesheldupwarninghands,saidsimultaneously,
“CharlesWallaceMurry,whatisitnow?”CharlesWallacelookedwithinterestatthethreemen.“Hello,what’sthis?”Mr.JenkinsOnesaid,“Whatareyoudoingwiththat—that—“AllthreemenwerevisiblyfearfulofLouise.Therewasnotellingthe‘real’
Mr.Jenkinsbyavariationinresponsetothesnake.Louiserearedherhead,,halfclosedhereyes,andmadethestrange,clacking,warningsoundwhichMeghadheardthenightbefore.CharlesWallacestrokedhersoothingly,andlookedspeculativelyatthethreemen.
“Weweresupposedtobringasmallpettoschooltoday,tosharewiththeclass.”
Megthought,—Goodforyou,Charles,tothinkofLouisetheLarger.IfyouterrifiedMr.Jenkins,thatwouldsendyouupanotchintheotherkids’estimation.Ifthere’sonethingeverybodyinschoolagreeson,it’sthatMr.Jenkinsisaretardedrodent.
Mr.JenkinsThreesaidseverely,“Youknowperfectlywellthatsmallpetsweremeant,CharlesWallace.Turtlesortropicalfishofperhapsevenahamster.”
“Oragerbil,”Mr.JenkinsTwoadded.“Agerbilwouldbeacceptable.”“Whyhaveyoumultiplied?”CharlesWallaceasked.“Ifoundoneofyou
quiteenough.”Louiseclackedagain;itwasaflesh-chillingsound.Mr.JenkinsThreedemanded,“Whyaren’tyouinclass,Charles?”“BecausetheteachertoldmetotakeLouisetheLargerandgohome.Ireally
don’tunderstandwhy.Louiseis,friendlyandshewouldn’thurtanybody.Onlythegirlswerescaredofher.Shelivesinourstonewallbythetwins’vegetablegarden.”
MeglookedatLouise,atthehoodedeyes,thewarypositionofthehead,thewarningtwitchingofthelastfewinchesofherblacktail.BlajenyhadtoldthemthatLouisewasaTeacher.Louiseherselfhadcertainlyshowninthepasttwenty-fourhoursthatshewasmorethananordinarygardensnake.Louisewouldknow—didknow,Megwassure—therealMr.Jenkins.Swallowingher
ownshynessofallsnakes,shereachedouttowardsCharlesWallace.“LetmehaveLouiseforalittlewhile,please,Charles.”
ButProginoskesspokeinhermind.“No,Meg.Youhavetodoityourself.Youcan’tletLouisedoitforyou.”
Allright.Sheacceptedthat.ButperhapsLouisecouldstillhelp.CharlesWallaceregardedhissisterthoughtfully.Thenheheldoutthearm
aroundwhichLouise’slowerhalfwascoiled.ThesnakeslitheredsinuouslytoMeg.Herbodyfeltcold,andtingledwithelectricity.Megtriednottoflinch.
“Mr.Jenkins,”Megsaid.“Eachofyou.Oneatatime.WhatareyougoingtodoaboutCharlesWallaceandLouise?CharlesWallacecan’tpossiblywalkhomealone.It’stoofar.WhatareyougoingtodoaboutCharlesWallaceandschoolingeneral?”
Nobodyvolunteeredananswer.Allthreefoldedtheirarmsimpassivelyacrosstheirchests.
“Mr.JenkinsThree,”Megsaid.“AreyouNamingme,Meg?That’sright.”“I’mnotNaminganybodyyet.Iwanttoknowwhatyou’regoingtodo.”“IthoughtIhadalreadytoldyou.ItisasituationwhichIshallhavetoguide
carefully.ItwasfoolishofCharlietobringasnaketoschool.Snakesarequitefrighteningtosomepeople,youknow.”
Louisehissedslowly.Mr.JenkinsThreeturnedvisiblypaler.Hesaid,“Ishallhavealong,quietsessionwithCharlesWallace’steacher.
ThenIwillspeaktoeachchildinthefirst-graderoom,separately.Ishallseetoitthateachonehasanunderstandingoftheproblem.Ifanyofthemgrouptogetherandtrybullying,Ishallusestrongdisciplinarymethods.Thisschoolhasbeenruninfartoolaxandpermissiveamanner.Fromnowon,Iintendtoholdthereins.Andnow,CharlesWallace,Ishalldriveyouhome.Yoursisterwillbringyourpet.”
Megturnedawayfromhim.“Mr.JenkinsTwo?”Mr.JenkinsTwodetachedhimselfbyonepacefromtheothers.“Force,
that’swhatthatimpostorisadvocating.Dictatorship.Iwillneverputupwithadictatorship.Butyoushouldnothavebroughtthesnaketoschool,Charlie.Youshouldhaveknownbetter.ButIthinkIunderstand.Youthoughtitwouldenhanceyoursocialprestige,andmakeyoumoreofanequalintheeyesofyourpeers.There’swherehappinesslies,insuccesswithyourpeergroup.Iwantall
mychildrentobelikeeachother,sowemusthelpyoutobemorenormal,evenifitmeansthatyoumustgotoschoolelsewhereforawhile.Iunderstandthere’ssomeonefromanothergalaxywho’sinterestedinhelpingyou.Perhapsthat’souranswerforthetimebeing.”
MegturnedtoMr.JenkinsOne.Hegaveasmall,annoyed,Mr.Jenkinsshrug.“IreallydonotforeseemuchchangeinmyrelationshipwithCharlesWallaceinthefuture.Whyinterplanetarytravelshouldbethoughtofasasolutiontoallearth’sproblemsIdonotunderstand.WehavesentmentothemoonandtoMarsandwearenonethebetterforit.WhysendingCharlesWallaceafewbillionlight-yearsacrossspaceshouldimprovehimany,Ifailtosee.Unless,ofcourse,ithelpshisphysicalcondition,aboutwhichnobodyexceptmyselfappearsconcerned.”Helookedathiswristwatch.“Howmuchlongerdoesthisfarcecontinue?”
Megcouldfeelsharp,painfullittleflickersasthecherubimthoughtather.Shedidnotwanttolisten.
“It’sallawasteoftime!”shecried.“WhydoIhavetobotherwithalltheseMr.Jenkinses?WhatcanitpossiblyhavetodowithCharles?”
LouisetheLarger’sbreathwascoolandgentleagainstherear.“Itdoess,itdoess,”thesnakehissed.
Proginoskessaid,“Youdon’tneedtoknowwhy.Justgetonwithit.”CharlesWallacespokewearily.“GivemeLouise,please,Meg,Iwanttogo
home.”“It’stoofarforyoutowalk.”“We’lltakeitslowly.”Mr.JenkinsThreesaidsharply,“IhavealreadysaidIwilldriveyouhome.
Youmaytakethesnakeaslongasitstaysinthebackseat.”Mr.JenkinsOneandTwosaidsimultaneously,“IwilldriveCharlesWallace.
Andthesnake.”Theyshudderedslightly,notquitesimultaneously,butinsyncopation.
CharlesWallaceheldouthisarmandLouiseslitheredfromMegtothelittleboy.“Let’sgo,”hesaidtothethreemen,turnedawayfromthem,andstartedtowalktowherethefacultyparkedtheircars.TheMr.Jenkinsesfollowedhim,walkingabreast,allwiththestiff,ungainlygaitwhichwasdistinctivelyandsolelyMr.Jenkins.
“Butwhowillhegowith?”MegaskedProginoskes.
“Therealone.”“Butthen—““Ithinkthatwhentheyturnthecornerthere’llbeonlyoneofthem.Itgives
usasmallrespite,atanyrate.”Thecherubimmaterializedslowly,becomingatfirstashimmer,thenatransparentoutline,thendeepeningindimensionsuntilhemovedintocompletevisibilityasthethreeMr.Jenkinsesdisappeared.“Don’twastetime,”hethoughtsharplyather.“Think.What’sthenicestthingyou’veeverheardaboutMr.Jenkins?”
“Nice?Nothingnice.Listen,maybeallofthemareimpostors.Maybetheywon’tcomeback.”
Againthesharplittlepain.“That’stooeasy.Oneofthem’sreal,andforsomereasonhe’simportant.Think,Meg.Youmustknowsomethinggoodabouthim.”
“Idon’twanttoknowanythinggoodabouthim.”“Stopthinkingaboutyourself.ThinkaboutCharles.TherealMr.Jenkinscan
helpCharles.”“How?”“Wedon’tneedtoknowhow,Meg!Stopblockingme.It’souronlyhope.
Youmustletmekythewithyou.”She,felthimmovingaboutwithinhermind,moregentlynow,butpersistently.“You’restillblockingme.”J
“I’mtryingnotto—““Iknow.Dosomemathproblemsinyourhead.Anythingtoshutoutyour
un-loveandletmeinaboutMr.Jenkins.DosomemathforCalvin.YouloveCalvin.Good.ThinkaboutCalvin.Meg!Calvin’sshoes.”
“Whataboutthem?”“Whatkindofshoesdoeshehaveon?”“Hisregularschoolshoes,Isuppose.HowwouldIknow?Ithinkhehasonly
onepairofshoes,andhissneakers.”“Whataretheshoeslike?”“Idon’tknow.Ididn’tnotice.Idon’tbothermuchaboutclothes.”“Thinksomemoremathandletmeshowthemtoyou.”Shoes.Strong,fairlynewOxfordswhichCalvinworeovermismatedredand
purplesocks,thekindofshoesMr.O’Keefecouldillaffordtobuyforhisfamily.Megsawtheshoesvividly;theimagewasgivenherbyProginoskes;she
hadbeenquitetruthfulwhenshetoldhimthatshedidn’tnoticeclothes.Nevertheless,hermindregisteredallthatshesawanditwasthere,stored,availabletothekythingofthecherubim.Shesawwithaflashofintuitionthatherkythingwaslikeasmallchild’stryingtopickoutamelodyonthepianowithonefinger,asagainsttheharmonyofafullorchestra,likethecherubiclanguage.
Inhermind’searcametheechoofCalvin’svoice,comingbacktoherfromanafternoonwhenshehadbeensent—unfairly,shethought—toMr.Jenkins’soffice,andbeendealtwith—unfairly—there.Calvin’svoice,quiet,calming,infuriatinglyreasonable.“WhenIstartedseventhgradeandwentovertoRegional,mymotherboughtmesomeshoesfromathriftshop.Theycostheradollar,whichwasmorethanshecouldspare,andtheywerewomen’sOxfords,thekindofblacklacedshoesoldwomenwear,andatleastthreesizestoosmallforme.WhenIsawthem,Icried,andthenmymothercried.Andmypopbeatme.SoIgotasawandhackedofftheheels,andcutthetoesoutsoIcouldjammyfeetin,andwenttoschool.Thekidsknewmetoowelltomakeremarksinmypresence,butIcouldguesswhattheyweresniggeringbehindmyback.AfterafewdaysMr.Jenkinscalledmeintohisofficeandsaidhe’dnoticedI’doutgrownmyshoes,andhejusthappenedtohaveanextrapairhethoughtwouldfitme.He’dgonetoalotoftroubletomakethemlookused,asthoughhehadn’tgoneoutandboughtthemforme.Imakeenoughmoneyinthesummersnowtobuymyownshoes,butI’llneverforgetthathegavemethefirstdecentpairofshoesIeverhad.SureIknowallthebadthingsabouthim,andthey’realltrue,andI’vehadmyownrun-inswithhim,butonthewholewegetalong,maybebecausemyparentsdon’tmakehimfeelinferior,andheknowshecandothingsformethattheycan’t.”
Megmuttered,“It’dhavebeenaloteasierifIcouldhavegoneonhatinghim.”
NowitwasProginoskes’svoiceinhermind’sear,notCalvin’s.“Whatwouldbeeasier?”
“Naminghim.”“Wouldit?Don’tyouknowmoreabouthimnow?”“Second-hand.I’veneverknownhimtodoanythingelsenice.”“Howdoyousupposehefeelsaboutyou?”“He’sneverseenmeexceptwhenI’msnarly,”sheadmitted.Shefound
herselfalmostlaughingasshe-rememberedMr.Jenkinssaying,‘Margaret,you
arethemostcontumaciouschildithaseverbeenmymisfortunetohaveinthisoffice,’andshehadhadtogohomeandlookup‘contumacious.’
Proginoskesprobed,”“Doyouthinkhe’dbelieveanythinggoodaboutyou?”“Notlikely.”“WouldyoulikehimtoseeadifferentMeg?TherealMeg?”Sheshrugged.“Well,then,howwouldyouliketobedifferentwithhim?”Frantically,shesaid,“IwishIhadgorgeousblondhair.”“Youwouldn’t,notreally.”“OfcourseIwould!”“Ifyouhadgorgeousblondhair,youwouldn’tbeyou.”“Thatmightbeagoodidea.Ouch,Progo,youhurt!”“Thisisn’tanytimeforself-indulgence.”“WhenMr.Jenkinsisbeingnice,he’snotbeingMr.Jenkins.Beingniceon
Mr.Jenkinswouldbelikeblondhaironme.”Proginoskessentice-coldangerthroughher.“Meg,there’snomoretime.
They’llbebackanymomentnow.”Panicchurnedinher.“Progo,ifIdon’tNameright,ifIfail,whatwillyou
do?”“Itoldyou.Ihavetochoose.”“That’snottellingme.Iwanttoknowwhichwayyou’regoingtochoose.”Proginoskes’sfeathersshiveredasthoughacoldwindhadblownthrough
them.“Meg,thereisn’tmuchtime.They’reontheirwayback.YouhavetoNameoneofthem.”
“Givemeahint.”“Thisisn’tagame.Mr.Jenkinswasright.”Sheshothimananguishedglance,andheloweredseveralsetsofeyelashes
inapology.“Progo,evenforCharlesWallace,howcanIdotheimpossible?HowcanIloveMr.”Jenkins?”
Proginoskesdidnotrespond.TherewasnoSame,nosmoke;onlyawithdrawingofeyesbehindwings.
“Progo!Helpme!HowcanIfeelloveforMr.Jenkins?”
Immediatelyheopenedalargenumberofeyesverywide.“Whatastrangeidea.Loveisn’tfeeling.Ifitwere,Iwouldn’tbeabletolove.Cherubimdon’thavefeelings.”
“But—““Idiot,”Proginoskessaid,anxiouslyratherthancrossly.“Loveisn’thowyou
feel.It’swhatyoudo.I’veneverhadafeelinginmylife.Asamatteroffact,Imatteronlywithearthpeople.”
“Progo,youmattertome.”Proginoskespuffedenvelopingpaleblueclouds.“That’snotwhatImeant.I
meantthatcherubimonlymatterwithearthpeople.Youcallitmaterializing.”“Then,ifyoubecomevisibleonlyforus,whydoyou”havetolookso
terrifying?”“Becausewhenwematter,thisishowwecomeout.Whenyougotmattered,
youdidn’tchoosetolookthewayyoudo,didyou?”“Icertainlydidnot.I’dhavechosenquitedifferently.I’dhavechosentobe
beautiful—oh,Isee!Youmeanyoudon’thaveanymorechoiceaboutlookinglikeadriveofdeformeddragonsthanIdoaboutmyhairandglassesandeverything?Youaren’tdoingitthiswayjustforfun?”
Proginoskesheldthreeofitswingsdemurelyoveragreatmanyofitseyes.“Iamacherubim,andwhenacherubim“takesonmatter,thisishow.”
Megkneltinfrontofthegreat,frightening,andstrangelybeautifulcreature.“Progo,I’mnotawindoraflameoffire.I’mahumanbeing.Ifeel.Ican’tthinkwithoutfeeling.Ifyoumattertome,thenwhatyoudecidetodoifIfailmatters.”
“Ifailtoseewhy.”Shescrambledtoherfeet,battingatthelastwispsofpalebluesmokewhich
stunghereyes,andshouted,“BecauseifyoudecidetoturnintoawormorwhateverandjointheEchthroi,Idon’tcarewhetherINamerightornot!Itjustdoesn’tmattertome!AndCharlesWallacewouldfeelthesameway—Iknowhewould!”
Proginoskesprobedgentlyandthoughtfullyintohermind.“Idon’tunderstandyourfeelings.I’mtryingto,butIdon’t.Itmustbeextremelyunpleasanttohavefeelings.”
“Progo!Whatwillyoudo?”Silence.Noflame.Nosmoke.Alleyesclosed.Proginoskesfoldedthegreat
wingscompletely.Hiswordswereverysmallastheymovedintohermind.“X.Ifyoufail,IwillXmyself.”
Hevanished.MegswungaroundandthreeMr.Jenkinseswerewalkingtowardsherfrom
thedirectionoftheparkinglot.She-facedthem.“Mr.Jenkins.”Identical,hateful,simultaneous,theysteppedtowardsher.Mr.JenkinsOnesniffed,theendofhispinknosewrigglingdistastefully.“I
amback.IleftCharlesWallacewithyourmother.Nowwillyoupleasegetridofthesetwo—uh—pranksters.Iresentthisintrusiononmytimeandprivacy.”
Mr.JenkinsTwopointedtoOneaccusingly.“Thatimpostorlosthistemperandshowedhistruecolorswhenyourlittlebrotherbroughthissnaketoschool.Theimpostorforgothimselfandcalledthechildasn—“
“Delete,”Mr.JenkinsThreesaidsharply.“Heusedwordsunsuitableforachild.Blipit.”
Mr.JenkinsTwosaid,“Hedoesn’tlovechildren.”Mr.JenkinsThreesaid,“Hecan’tcontrolchildren.”Mr.JenkinsTwosaid,“IwillmakeCharlesWallacehappy.”Mr.Jenkins,Threesaid,“Iwillmakehimsuccessful.”Mr.JenkinsOnelookedathiswatch.Megclosedhereyes.Andsuddenlyshedidnotfeel.Shehadbeenpushed
intoadimensionbeyondfeeling,ifsucha-thingispossible,andifProgowasright,itispossible.Therewasnothingbutacoldawarenesswhichhadnothingtodowithwhatshenormallywouldhavethoughtofasfeeling.Hervoiceissuedfromherlipsalmostwithoutvolition,cold,calm,emotionless.“Mr.JenkinsThree—“
Hesteppedforward,smilingtriumphantly.“No.You’renottherealMr.Jenkins.You’remuchtoopowerful.You’d
neverhavetobetakenawayfromaregionalschoolyoucouldn’tcontrolandmadeprincipalofagradeschoolyoucouldn’tcontrol,either.”ShelookedatMr.JenkinsOneandTwo.Herhandswereice-coldandshehadthesensationinthepitofthestomachwhichprecedesacutenausea,butshewasunawareofthisbecauseshewasstillinthestrangerealmbeyondfeeling.“Mr.JenkinsTwo—“
Hesmiled.Againsheshookherhead.“Iwasn’tquiteassureaboutyouatfirst.But
wantingtomakeeverybodyhappyandjustlikeeverybodyelseisjustasbadasMr.JenkinsThreemanipulatingeverybody.BadasMr.Jenkinsis,he’stheonlyoneofthethreeofyouwho’shumanenoughtomakeasmanymistakesashedoes,andthat’syou,Mr.JenkinsOne—“Suddenlyshegaveastartledlaugh.“AndIdoloveyouforit.”Thensheburstintotearsofnervousnessandexhaustion.Butshehadnodoubtthatshewasright.
TheairabouttheschoolyardwasrentwithagreathowlingandshriekingandthenacoldnothingnesswhichcouldonlybethepresenceofEchthroi.Itwasasthoughripafterripwerebeingslashedintheair,andthentheedgesweredrawntogetherandhealed.
Silence.Andquiet.Andasmall,ordinary,everydaywind.Proginoskesmaterialized,delicatelyunfoldingwingafterwingtorevealhis
myriadvariouseyes.Mr.JenkinsOne,therealMr.Jenkins,fainted.
7MetronAriston.MegbentoverMr.Jenkins.ShedidnotrealizethatBlajenywasthereuntil
sheheardhisvoice.“Really,Proginoskes,yououghttoknowbetterthantotakeanyoneby
surpriselikethat,particularlyastill-limitedonelikeMr.Jenkins.”HestoodbetweenthecherubimandMeg,almostastallastheschoolbuilding,halfamused,halfangry.
Proginoskesflutteredseveralwingsinhalfheartedapology.“Iwasveryrelieved.”
“Quite.”“Willthis—uh—Mr.Jenkinseverbeanythingbutalimitedone?”—“Thatisalimitedandlimitingthought,Proginoskes,”Blajenysaidsternly.“I
amsurprised.”Nowthecherubimwastrulyabashed.Heclosedhiseyesandcoveredthem
withwings,keepingonlythreeeyesopen,oneeachtogazeatBlajeny,Meg,andtheproneMr.Jenkins.
BlajenyturnedtoMeg.“Mychild,Iamverypleasedwithyou.”Megblushed.“Shouldn’twedosomethingaboutMr.Jenkins?”Blajenykneltonthedustyground.Hisdarkfingers,withtheirvastspan,
pressedgentlyagainstMr.Jenkins’stemples;theprincipal’susuallypastyfacewasgrey;hisbodygaveaspasmodictwitch;heopenedhiseyesandclosedthemagainimmediately;moaned.
TensionandreliefhadsetMegonthevergeofhysteria;shewashalflaughing,halfcrying.“Blajeny,don’tyourealizeyoumustbealmostasfrighteningtopoorMr.JenldnsasProgo?”She,too,droppedtoherkneesbesidetheprincipal.“Mr.Jenkins,I’mhere.Meg.Iknowyoudon’tlikeme,butatleastI’mfamiliar.Openyoureyes.It’sallright.Reallyitis.”
Slowly,cautiously,heopenedhiseyes.“Imustmakeanappointmentwithapsychiatrist.Immediately.”
Megspokesoothingly,astoaverysmallchild.“Youaren’thallucinating,Mr.Jenkins,honestlyyouaren’t.It’sallright.They’refriends,BlajenyandProgo.Andthey’rereal.”
Mr.Jenkinsclosedhiseyes,openedthemagain,focusedonMeg.“BlajenyisaTeacher,Mr.Jenkins,andProgoisa—well,he’sacherubim.”
ShecouldhardlyblameMr.Jenkinsforlookingincredulous.Hisvoicewasthin.“EitherIamintheprocessofanervousbreakdown,
whichisnotunlikely,orIamdreaming.That’sit.Imustbeasleep.”Hestruggledtositup,withMeg’sassistance.“Butwhy,then,areyouinmydream?WhyamIlyingontheground?Hassomebodyhitme?Iwouldn’tputitpastthebiggerboys—“Herubbedhishandoverhishead,searchingforabruise.“Whyareyouhere,Margaret?Iseemtoremember—“HelookedoncemoreatBlajenyandProginoskesandshuddered.“They’restillhere.No.Iamstilldreaming.Whycan’tIwakeup?Thisisn’treal.”
MegechoedBlajeny.“Whatisreal?”SheturnedtotheTeacher,buthewasnolongerpayingattentiontoMr.Jenkins.ShefollowedBlajeny’sgaze,andsawLouiseslitheringrapidlytowardsthem.
AfreshshuddershookMr.Jenkins.“Notthesnakeagain—Ihaveaphobiaabout—“
Megsoothed,“Louiseisreallyveryfriendly.Shewon’thurtyou.”“Snakes.”Mr.Jenkinsshookhishead.“Snakesandmonstersandgiants...
It’snotpossible,noneofthisispossible...”BlajenyturnedfromhisconversationwithLouisetheLarger,spokeurgently.
“Wemustgoatonce.TheEchthroiareenraged.-CharlesWallace’smitochondritisisnowacute.”
“Oh,Blajeny,takeushomequickly,”Megcried.“Imustbewithhim!”“Thereisn’ttime.WemustgoatoncetoMetronAriston.”“Where?”Withoutanswering,BlajenyturnedfromMegtoMr.Jenkins.“You,sir:do
youwishtoreturntoyourschoolandcontinueyourregularday’swork?Orwillyouthrowinyourlotwithus?”
Mr.Jenkinslookedcompletelybewildered.“Iamhavinganervousbreakdown.”
“Youdon’tneedtohaveoneifyoudon’twantto.Youhavesimplybeenfacedwithseveralthingsoutsideyourcurrentspheresofexperience.Thatdoesnotmeanthatthey—we—donotexist.”
MegfeltanunwillingsenseofprotectivenesstowardsthisunattractivelittlemanshehadNamed.“Mr.Jenkins,don’tyouthinkyou’dbetterreportthatyou’renotwelltoday,andcomewithus?”
Mr.Jenkinsheldouthishandshelplessly.“Werethere—therewere—two
other—twomenwhoresembledme?”“Yes,ofcoursetherewere.Butthey’vegone.”“Where?”MegturnedtoBlajeny.TheTeacherlookedgrave.“WhenanEchthrostakesonahumanbody,it
tendstokeepit.”MegcaughtholdofthestonegreyoftheTeacher’ssleeve.“Thefirsttest—
howdidithappen?Youdidn’tmakeitup,didyou?Youcouldn’thavetoldtheEchthroitoturnintoMr.Jenkins,couldyou?”
“Meg,”herepliedquietly,“ItoldyouIneededyourhelp.”“Youmean—youmeanthiswasgoingtohappen,anyhow,theEchthroi
turningintoMr.Jenkins,evenif—““Mr.Jenkinswasaperfecthostfortheirpurposes.”Rathershakily,Mr.JenkinstotteredtowardsBlajeny,sputtering,“Now,see
here,Idon’tknowwhoyouareandIdon’tcare,butIdemandanexplanation.”Blajeny’svoicewasnowmorelikeanEnglishhornthanacello.“Perhapsin
yourworldtodaysuchaphenomenonwouldbecalledschizophrenia.Iprefertheoldideaofpossession.”
“Schiz—areyou,sir,questioningmysanity?”Louise’ssmallvoicewhistledurgently.“Mr.Jenkins,”Blajenysaidquietly,“wemustleave.Eitherreturntoyour
schoolorcomewithus.Now.”ToMeg’ssurpriseshefoundherselfurging,“Pleasecomewithus,Mr.
Jenkins.”“Butmyduty—““Youknowyoucan’tjustgobacktoschoolagainafterwhat’shappened.”Mr.Jenkinsmoanedagain.Hiscomplexionhadturnedfromgreytopale
green.“Andafteryou’vemetthecherubimandBlajeny—““Cheru—“Louisewhistledagain.Blajenyasked,“Areyoucomingwithusornot?”“MargaretNamedme,”Mr.Jenkinssaidsoftly.“Yes.Iwillcome.”
ProginoskesreachedoutagreatpinionandpulledMegintohim.Shefeltthetremendousheartbeat,abeatwhichreverberatedlikeabrassgong.Thenshesawtheovoideye,open,dilating...
Shewasthrough.Itwassomethingofananticlimaxtofindthattheywerenofartherfrom
homethanthestar-watchingrock.Wait:wasit,afterall,thestar-watchingrock?Sheblinked,andwhensheopenedhereyesMr.JenkinsandBlajenywere
there,andCalvinwasthere,too(oh,thankyou,Blajeny!),holdinghishandouttoher,andshewaswarmedintheradianceofhisbigsmile.
Itwasnolongerautumn-cold.Therewasalightbreeze,warmandsummery.Allaboutthem,encirclingthem,wasthesoundofsummerinsects,crickets,katydids,and—lesspleasantly—theshrillofamosquito.Frogswerecrunkingaway,andatreetoadsangitsscratchysong.Theskywasthickwithstars,starswhichalwaysseemedclosertoearthinsummerthaninwinter.
Blajenysatdown,cross-legged,ontherock,andbeckonedtothem.Megsatinfrontofhim,andsawthatLouisewascoilednearby,herheadrestingononeofProginoskes’soutstretchedwings.CalvinsatbesideMeg,andMr.Jenkinsstoodawkwardly,shiftinghisweightfromonelegtotheother.
MegmovedalittleclosertoCalvinandlookedupatthesky.Andgasped.Thestars,thelow,daisy-thicksummerstars,werenotthe
familiarplanetsandconstellationsshehadsooftenwatchedwithherparents.TheywereasdifferentashadbeentheconstellationswhereProginoskeshadtakenhertoseetheterribleworkoftheEchthroi.
“Blajeny,”Calvinasked,“wherearewe?”“MetronAriston.”“What’sMetronAriston?Isitaplanet?”“No.It’sanidea,apostulatum.IfinditeasiertopositwhenIaminmyhome
galaxy,soweareneartheMondrionsolarsystemoftheVeganuelgalaxy.ThestarsyouseearethoseIknow,thosewhichIseefrommyhomeplanet.”
“Whyarewehere?”“ThepostulatumMetronAristonmakesitpossibleforallsizestobecome
relative.WithinMetronAristonyoumaybesizedsothatyouareabletoconversewithagiantstaroratinyfarandola.”
Megfeltamomentofshockanddisbelief.Farandolaewerestilllessrealto
herthanCharlesWallace’s‘dragons.’“Afarandola!Arewereallygoingtoseeone?”
“Yes.”“Butit’simpossible.Afarandolaissosmallthat—““Howsmallisit?”Blajenyasked.“Sosmallthatit’sbeyondrationalconceiving,mymothersays.”Mr.Jenkinsmadeasmallconfusednoiseandshiftedweightagain.Blajeny
said,“AndyetMrs.Murryisconvincedthatshehasprovedtheexistenceoffarandolae.Nowletussuppose:hereweareinVeganuelgalaxy,twotrillionlight-yearsaway.VeganuelisjustaboutthesamesizeasyourownEarth’sgalaxy.HowlongdoesittaketheMilkyWaytorotateoncearound?”
Asnooneelsespoke,Meganswered,‘Twohundredbillionyears,clockwise.”
“Sothatgivesusageneralideaofthesizeofyourgalaxy,doesn’tit?”“Verygeneral,”Calvinsaid.“Ourmindscan’tcomprehendanythingthat
huge,thatmacrocosmic.”“Don’ttrytocomprehendwithyourmind.Yourmindsareverylimited.Use
yourintuition.Thinkofthesizeofyourgalaxy.Now,thinkofyoursun.It’sastar,anditisagreatdealsmallerthantheentiregalaxy,isn’tit?”
“Ofcourse.”“Thinkofyourselves,now,incomparisonwiththesizeofyoursun.Think
howmuchsmalleryouare.Haveyoudonethat?”“Sortof,”Megsaid.“Nowthinkofamitochondrion.Thinkofthemitochondriawhichliveinthe
cellsofalllivingthings,andhowmuchsmalleramitochondrionisthanyou.”Mr.Jenkinssaid,tohimself,“IthoughtCharlesWallacewasmakingthem
uptoshowoff.”Blajenycontinued,“Nowconsiderthatafarandolaisasmuchsmallerthana
mitochondrionasamitochondrionissmallerthanyouare.”“Thistime,”Calvinsaid,“theproblemisthatourmindscan’tcomprehend
anythingthatmicrocosmic.”Blajenysaid,“Anotherwayofputtingitwouldbetosaythatafarandolais
asmuchsmallerthanyouareasyourgalaxyislargerthanyouare.”Calvinwhistled.“Then,toafarandola,anyofuswouldbeasbigasa
galaxy?”“Moreorless.Youareagalaxyforyourfarandolae.”“Thenhowcanwepossiblymeetone?”Blajeny’svoicewaspatient.“IhavejusttoldyouthatinMetronAristonwe
canalmostdoawaywithvariationsinsize,whichare,inreality,quiteunimportant.”Heturnedhisheadandlookedinthedirectionofdiegreatglacialrocks.
“Therocks,”Megasked,“aretheyreallythere?”“NothingisanywhereinMetronAriston,”Blajenysaid.“IamtryingtomakethingsaseasyforyouasIcanbygivingyouafamiliar
visualsetting.Youmusttrytounderstandthingsnotonlywithyourlittlehumanminds,whicharenotagreatdealofuseintheproblemswhichconfrontus.”
AtlastMr.Jenkinssat,crouchinguncomfortablyontherock.“WithwhatcanIunderstand,then?Idon’thaveverymuchintuition.”
“Youmustunderstandwithyourhearts.Withthewholeofyourselves,notjustafragment.”
Mr.Jenkinsgroaned.“Iamtoooldtobeeducable.Youcan’tteachanolddognewtricks.Ihavelivedbeyondmytime.”
Megcried,“Oh,no,youhaven’t,Mr.Jenkins,you’rejustbeginning!”Mr.Jenkinsshookhisheadinmournfulnegation.“Maybeitwouldhave
beenbetterifyou’dneverNamedme.WhydidIeverhavetoseeyouthisway?Oryourlittlebrother?Orthatfrightfulbeast?”
Proginoskesmadewhatseemedlikeaminorvolcanicupheaval.Mr.Jenkinsstiffenedalittle,thoughhecouldhardlybecomepaler.“Are
thereanymorelikeyou?”“Thereareagoodlynumberofcherubim,”Proginoskesreplied,“butnone
exactlyalike.”“That’sit,”Mr.Jenkinssaid.“That’spreciselyit.”Absent-mindedlyhe
brushedatthedandruffandlintontheshouldersofhisdarksuit.Blajeny,listeningcarefully,bowedhisgreatheadcourteously.“Precisely
what,Mr.Jenkins?”“Nobodyshouldbeexactlylikeanybodyelse.”“Isanybody?”“Those—those—imitationMr.Jenkinses—toseemyselfdoubledandtrebled
—there’snothinglefttoholdonto.”ImpulsivelyMeggotupandrantotheprincipal.“Buttheyaren’tlikeyou,
Mr.Jenkins!Nobodyis!Youareunique.INamedyou,didn’tI?”Mr.Jenkins’seyeslookedblurredandbewilderedthroughthelensesofhis
spectacles.“Yes.Yes,youdid.Isupposethat’swhyI’mhere—whereverhereis.”HeturnedtoBlajeny.“ThoseotherMr.Jenkinses—youcalledthemEchthroi?”
“Yes.TheEchthroiarethosewhohate,thosewhowouldkeepyoufrombeingNamed,whowouldun-Nameyou.Itisthenatureoflovetocreate.Itisthenatureofhatetodestroy.”
Mr.Jenkinssaid,heavily,“IfearIhavenotbeenalovingperson.”Megfeltaflashofintuitionassharpandbrilliantasthecherubim’sflame;
likeflame,itburned.“Oh,Mr.Jenkins,don’tyousee?EverytimeIwasinyouroffice,beingawfulandhatingyou,Iwasreallyhatingmyselfmorethanyou.Motherwasright.Shetoldmethatyouunderestimateyourself.”
Mr.Jenkinsrespondedinastrangevoiceshehadneverheardfromhimbefore,completelyunlikehisusual,nasal,shrillasperity.“Webothdo,don’twe,Margaret?WhenIthoughtyourparentswerelookingdownonme,Iwasreallylookingdownonmyself.ButIdon’tseeanyotherwaytolookatmyself.”
NowatlastMegglimpsedtheMr.JenkinswhohadboughtshoesforCalvin,whohadclumsilytriedtomakethoseshoeslookworn.
Mr.JenkinsturnedtoBlajeny.“TheseEchth—““Echthroi.Singular,Echthros.”“TheseEchthroiwhotookon—whotookonmylikeness,”Mr.Jenkinssaid,
“cantheycausemoretrouble?”“Yes.”“TheywouldharmCharlesWallace?”“TheywouldX—extinguishhim,”thecherubimsaid.Megreachedoutinlongingandfeartowardsherbrother.“Weshouldn’t
havelefthim—“shestarted,thenclosedhermouth.Shefeltthecherubimmovinggentlywithinher,helpingher,givingherlittleshovesofthought,andthensheseemedtobewithCharlesWallace,notinactuality,notinperson,butinherheart.Inherheart’ssightshesawtheirmothercarryinghimupthestairs,Charleslimpinhismother’sarms,legsdangling.Mrs.Murrywentintohisroom,asmall,paneledroomwithalittlefireplace,andonewallpaperedina
blueandwhitesnowflakepattern,asafe,comfortableroom.Thewindowlookedoutontothepinewoodsbehindthehouse;thelightwhichcameinwasgentle,andkind.
Mrs.MurrylaidCharlesWallacedownonhisbed,andbegantoundresshim.Thechildbarelyhadthestrengthtohelpher;hemadeanefforttosmileandsaid,“I’llbebettersoon.Megwill...”
“Megwillbehomefromschoolinacoupleofhours,”theirmothersaid.“She’llberightuptoseeyou.AndDr.Louiseisonherway.”
“Megisn’t—inschool.”Speakingwasalmosttoogreataneffort.Mrs.Murrydidnotcontradicthim,asperhapsshemighthavenormally,but
helpedhimintohispajamas.“I’mcold,Mother.”Shepulledthecoversupoverhim.“I’llgetanotherblanket.”Asoundoffeetpoundingupthestairs,andthetwinsburstin:“What’sthis?What’sthematter?”“IsCharlessick?”Mrs.Murryansweredquietly,“He’snotfeelingverywell.”“Badenoughtogotobed?”“Didhehavetroubleinschoolagain?”“Schoolwasfine.HetookLouiseandshemadeagreathit,evidently.”“OurLouise?”“LouisetheLarger?”“Yes.”“Bullyforyou,Charles!”“That’stellingthem!”CharlesWallacemanagedareasonablygoodsmile.“Sandy,”Mrs.Murrysaid,“pleasebringupsomewoodforafire.It’salittle
chilly.Dennys,ifyou’dpleasegotothecedarclosetandgetanotherblanket...”
“Okay.Sure.Rightaway.”“AndMeg’llreadtoyouorsomethingwhenshegetshome,Charles.”MegthoughtsheheardCharlesWallacesayingonceagainthatMegwasnot
inschool,butitwasasthoughamistsweptoverthevividscene,andCharles
Wallace’sroomwasgone,andMegwasstanding,pressedcloseagainstthecherubim,whohadonewingstronglyabouther.
Blajenysaid,“Now,mychildren,wemusthavealesson.Letusmakebelievethatitisdaytime.Youcan,youknow.Believingtakespractice,butneitheryou,Calvin,noryou,Meg,isoldenoughtohaveforgottencompletelyhowtodoit.YoumustmakebelieveforyourselvesandforMr.Jenkins.Thismayseematrivialtask,inviewofthegravityofthecircumstances,butitispracticeforwhatistocome.Now.Makebelieve.Turnnighttoday.”
ThecherubimwithdrewhiswingandMegputherhandinBlajeny’s.Herownhandwasverysmallincomparison,assmallasithadbeenwhenshewasyoungerthanCharlesWallaceandhadheldherfather’shandincompleteloveandtrust.ShelookedupatBlajeny’sgrave,blackface,lookedintothestrangeambereyeswhichsometimesseemedtoholdthecoldlightofthemoon,andwhichnowglowedwiththewarmthofthesun.ColorfloodedtheimagedskyofMetronAriston,avast,archingbluecanopy,cloudless,andshimmeringwithwarmth.Abouttherockthegreengrassesofsummerrippledinthebreeze;abirdsang,wasjoinedbyanother,others,untilmelodywasallaroundthem.Thegrasswasbrightenedbyfieldflowers,daisies,black-eyedSusans,Indianpaintbrushes,butter-and-eggs,purplethistles,allthesummerflowersbloomingabundantlyandbrilliantly.
Colorsblazedmorebrightlythannormal.Calvin’shair,theshadeofanIndianpaintbrush,burnedlikesunlight.Hisfrecklesseemedlargerandmoreprofusethanever.Thefadedblueofhisjackethaddeepenedtomeetthegentianblueofhiseyes.Hehadononeredsockandonepurplesock.
Meg’soldkilt,fadedfromcountlesswashings,lookedbrightandnew,butherhair,shethought,wasprobablyasmouse-brownasever;andMr.Jenkinswasstillpastyandcolorless.LouisetheLarger,however,lookedevenlargerthanusual,andhercoilsshonewithpurpleandgold.
MeglookedtowardsProginoskesandtheshiningofthecherubimwassobrilliantitalmostblindedher;shehadtolookaway.
“Now,mychildren,”Blajenysaid,andheincludedMr.Jenkinsintheappellation,“wewillwelcometheothermemberofthisclass.”
Frombehindthesmallerofthetwoglacialrocksatinycreatureappearedandscamperedovertothem.Itlookedratherlikeasmall,silver-bluemouse,andyetitseemedtoMegtobeaseacreatureratherthanalandcreature.Itsearswerelargeandvelvety,thefurshadingoffintolavenderfringesatthetips,blowing
gentlyinthebreezelikeseaplantsmovinginthecurrentsoftheocean.Itswhiskerswereunusuallylong;itseyeswerelargeandmilkyandhadnovisiblepupiloriris,buttherewasnothingdulledaboutthem;theyshonelikemoonstones.
Itspoke,butwithneitheramouse’ssqueaknorahumanvoice.Thesoundwaslikeharpstringsbeingpluckedunderwater,andthelongwhiskersvibratedalmostasthoughtheywerebeingplayed.Itdidnotgiveforthwords,andyetitwasquiteplainthatitwassayingsomethinglike“Hello,areyoumyclassmates?”
Blajenyspokeinthemouse-creature’slanguage;wordsdidnotissuefromhismouth;hisgranitelipswereclosed;andyetthechildrenheardthelovelyripplingharpsound.
Themouse-creaturedidnotseempleased,andmadesoundswhichconveyedagooddealofdoubt.Megunderstoodittobecomplainingthatifithadtopasseventhemostpreliminaryofexaminationswithanearthling,itwasdubiousthatitcoulddoso,Acherubimmightbeofsomehelp,butsurelyearthlingswerenothingbut—
Proginoskessaid,“I,too,hadmisgivingsaboutearthlings.ButthegirlearthlingandIhavejustcomethroughthefirstordeal,anditwasthegirlwhodidit.”
Themouse-creature’swhiskerstwingled.“Itcan’thavebeenmuchofanordeal.Canwepleasegetgoing,Blajeny?WehaveonlyaparsecbeforeImakemypreliminaryreport.AndIcanseeIhaveagreatdealtoteachwhomeverI’munfortunateenoughtohaveasapartner—evenifit’sthecherubim.”Itslong,lavendertail,whichhadafish-likefanatthetip,switched,anditswhiskersbristledinMeg’sdirection.
Megbristled,too.“PerhapswhenI’masoldasyouareI’llhavelearnedafewthingstoteachyou!”
Mouse-creature’swhiskersvibratedwildly.“Ageisimmaterial.Inanycase,itsohappensthatIwasbornonlyyesterday.”
“Thenwhatareyoudoinghere?”Mouse-creaturedrewitselfup;nowitremindedMegnotsomuchofamouse
asofasmallshrimpwithantennaewavingwildly.“There’sonlyoneofusfarandolaeborneverygenerationorsonowadays,andwestartourschoolingthemomentwe’reborn.”
“You’reafarandola!”“Naturally.Whatdidyouexpectmetobe?WhatelsecouldIpossiblybe?
Everybodyknowsthatthefarandolae—“Sheinterrupted.“Everybodydoesn’t.Theexistenceoffarandolaewasn’t
evenguessedatuntilafewyearsagowhenwebegantolearnmoreaboutmitochondria,andmymotherhasjustnowisolatedtheeffectoffarandolaeonmitochondriawithhermicro-sonarscope.Andevenwiththemicro-electronmicroscope,farandolaecanjustbeprovedtoexist,theycan’treallybeseen.”
Themouse-creature’s,thefarandola’s,whiskerstwanged.“It’saverystupidbreedofcreaturethatdoesn’tknowitsowninhabitants.Especiallyifit’sfortunateenoughtobeinhabitedbyfarandolae.Weareextremelyimportantandgettingmoreso.”
Pastthefarandola,behindProginoskesandLouisetheLarger,theshapeofaMr.Jenkinsblewrapidlyacrossthehorizon.
Mr.Jenkins,standingnearMegandCalvin,quivered.Blajenylookedgrim.“Echthroiatwork.”Themouse-creature-farandolapaidnoattention.“Myquercus,mytree,
hasn’thadanoffspringforahundredyears—ouryears,ofcourse.Itwilltakemethatlongtobecomefull-grownmyself,andthisisonlymysecondphase.”
Megspokeinhermostungraciousmanner.“You’regoingtotellusaboutyourfirstphasewhetherwewantyoutoornot.Sogoahead.”TheglimpseofCharlesWallace,followedbythesightofanotherEchthros-Mr.Jenkins,hadforcedhertorealizethatthesuccessfulpassingofthefirsttestdidnotmeanthateverythingwasgoingtobeallright.
Mouse-shrimp-farandolareactedbyanintensifiedtremblingoffeelers.“YesterdaymorningIwasstillcontainedinsidethesinglegoldenfruithangingonmytree.Atnoonitburstandfellopen,andtherewasI,newlyhatched.InmytadpolestageIwasdeliveredtoMetronAristonandtransmogrified,andhereamI.MynameisSporos,bytheway,andIdonotlikeyourthinkingnameslikemouse-creatureandshrimp-thingatme.Sporos.WhenIhavefinishedthisphaseofmyeducation—ifIfinish—withoneofyouforapartner,Iwillrootmyself,andDeepen.AfteranaeonI’llsendupasmallgreenshootoutofmykelpbed,andstartgrowingintoanaqueousdeciduousspore-reproducingfruit-bearingconiferousfarandola.”
Calvinlookedhorrified.“You’remad.I’vestudiedbiology.You’renot
possible.”“Neitherareyou,”Sporosrepliedindignantly.“Nothingimportantis.
Blajeny,isitmymisfortunetobepairedwithoneoftheseearthlings?”LouisetheLargerliftedherheadoutofhercoilsandlookedatSporos,her
heavylidsmetandclosed.Blajenysaid,“Youarehardlymakingyourselfpopular,Sporos.”“I’mnotamereearthling.Earthlingsareimportantonlybecausetheyare
inhabitedbyfarandolae.Popularityisimmaterialtofarandolae.”BlajenyturnedawayfromSporosinquietrebuff.“Calvin.YouandSporos
aretoworktogether.”“Oh,well,youcan’twinthemall,”wasmoreorlesstheeffectofwhat
Sporoswasvibrating,andMegthoughtitwouldhavebeenamoreappropriateresponsecomingfromCalvin.
Mr.Jenkinssaid,“Blajeny,ifImaypresume—““Yes?”“Thatother—Ididseeanothercopyofmyselfjustafewmomentsago,didI
not?”“Yes.Iamafraidyoudid.”“Whatdoesitmean?”Blajenysaid,“Itmeansnothinggood.”Proginoskesadded,“Yousee,wearen’tanyplace.We’reinMetronAriston.
We’resimplyinanideawhichBlajenyhappenstobehavinginthemiddleoftheMondrionsolarsysteminVeganuelgalaxy.AnEchthros—Mr.Jenkinsoughtn’ttobeabletofollowushere.Itmeans—“
“What?”Megdemanded.LikeBlajeny,Proginoskessaid,“Nothinggood.”Sporostwingledhiswhiskers.“Needwestandaroundchittering?Whenare
wegoing?”“Verysoon.”“Where?”Megdemanded.Shefeltpricklesofforeboding.“Toafarplace,Meg.”“ButMotherandFather—CharlesWallace—thetwins—wecan’tjustgooff
thiswaywithCharlesWallacesoilland—““Thatiswhywearegoing,Meg,”Blajenysaid.
Sporosrippledhisundulatingnotes,andMegtranslatedsomethinglike:“Can’tyoujustcallhome,orjustreachoutandtalktoeachotherwhenyouwantto?”andthenahorrified,“Oh,mygoodness,Idon’tseehowanybodyasignorantasyouthreeearthlingsseemtobecanpossiblymanage.Doyoumeanonyourearthhostyounevercommunicatewitheachotherandwithotherplanets?Youmeanyourplanetrevolvesaboutallisolatedinspace?Aren’tyouterriblylonely?Isn’the?”
“He?”“Orshe.Yourplanet.Aren’tyoulonely?”“Maybeweare,alittle,”Calvinconceded.“Butit’sabeautifulplanet.”“That,”Sporossaid,“isasitmaybe.SinceIwasonlybornyesterdayand
camerightintoMetronAristonandtoBlajeny,Idon’tknowtheplanetsexcepttheonesintheMondrionsolarsystem,andtheytalkbackandforthallthetime;theychattertoomuch,ifyouaskme.”
“Wedidn’t,”Megtriedtointerrupt,butSporostwingledon.“IdohopeIwasn’tborninsomedreadfulmitochondrionwhichlivesin
somehorribleisolated,humanhostonalonelyplanetlikeyours.Youareallfromthesameplanet?Ithoughtso.Ohdear,ohdear,Icanseeyouaren’tgoingtobetheleasthelptomeinpassinganyofthetrials.I’dbetterseewhattimeitis.”
“Howdoyoutelltime?”Calvinaskedcuriously.“Bytheleaves,ofcourse.Youmeantosayyoudon’tevenknowthetuneof
day?”“OfcourseIdo.Withmywatch.”“What’sawatch?”Calvinextendedhiswrist.Hewasveryproudofhiswatch,whichhadbeena
prizeatschool,andgavethedateaswellasthehour,hadasweephand,andwasastopwatchaswell.
“Whatapeculiarobject.”Sporosregardeditwithacertaincontempt.“Doesitworkjustforyourtime,orfortimeingeneral?”
“Justforourtime,Iguess.”“Youmean,ifyouwanttoknowwhattimeitisanywherehereinBlajeny’s
galaxy,orinadistantmitochondrion,yourwatchthingwon’ttellyou?”“Well—no.ItjusttellsthetimeforwhatevertimezoneI’min.”
“MightyYadah!Howconfusedeverythingmustbeonyourplanet.Ionlyhopemyhumanhostisn’tinyourplanet.”
Mr.Jenkinssaidplaintively,“Ifsomeonewouldjustexplaintomewhatisgoingon—“
“Mr.Jenkins,”Megsaid.“YouknowwhattheEchthroiare—““ButIdon’t.Ionlyknowthattheyimpersonatedme.”BlajenyplacedbothgreathandsonMr.Jenkins’sstoopedshouldersand
lookeddownathimgravely.“Thereareevilforcesatworkintheworld.”Mr.Jenkinsnoddedmutely.Hedidnotdisputethat.“Theyarethroughouttheuniverse.”Mr.Jenkinsglancedatthecherubim,whohadstretchedouthiswingstotheir
fullestspanasthoughtoflexhismuscles.“How—howbigarethey?”“Theyarenosizeandtheyareeverysize.AnEchthroscanbeaslargeasa
galaxyandassmallasafarandola.Or,asyouhaveseen,areplicaofyourself.They,arethepowersofnothingness,thosewhowouldun-Name.TheiraimistotalX—toextinguishallcreation.”
“WhatdotheyhavetodowithCharlesWallace?”“TheEchthroiaretryingtodestroyhismitochondria.”“Butwhywouldtheybotherwithachild?”“Itisnotalwaysonthegreatortheimportantthatthebalanceoftheuniverse
depends.”LouisetheLargerwhistledurgently,andMegwasalmostsurethatthesnake
wastellingthemthatshewouldstaywithCharlesWallace,thatshewouldencouragehimtokeeponfightingtolive.“Oh,Louise,please,please,youwon’tleavehim?Youwillhelphim?”
“Iwillnotleavehim.”“Willhebeallright?”Louiseansweredwithsilence.BlajenysaidtoMr.Jenkins,“CharlesWallacewilldieifhismitochondria
die.Doyouunderstandthat?”Mr.Jenkinsshookhishead.“Ithoughthewasmakingthingsupwithhisbig
words.Ithoughthewastryingtoshowoff.Ididn’tknowtherereallyweremitochondria.”
BlajenyturnedtoMeg.“Explain.”
“I’lltry.ButI’mnotsureIreallyunderstandeither,Mr.Jenkins.ButIdoknowthatweneedenergytolive.Okay?”
“Thusfar.”ShefeltBlajenykythinginformationtoher,andinvoluntarilyhermind
sortedit,simplified,putitintowordswhichshehopedMr.Jenkinswouldunderstand.“Well,eachofourmitochondriahasitsownbuilt-insystemtolimittherateatwhichitburnsfuel,okay,Mr.Jenkins?”
“Praycontinue,Margaret.”“Ifthenumberoffarandolaeinanymitochondriondropsbelowacritical
point,thenhydrogentransportcan’toccur;thereisn’tenoughfuel,andtheresultisdeaththroughenergylack.”Shefelttheskinonherarmsandlegspricklingcoldly.ToputintowordswhatmightbehappeningwithinCharlesWallacewasalmostunendurable.
ShefeltBlajenyproddingherandcontinued.“Something’shappeninginCharlesWallace’smitochondria.I’mnotsurewhatitis,becauseit’sallwordsIdon’tknow,buthisfarandolaearedying—maybethey’rekillingeachother—no,that’snotright.Itsoundstomeasthoughthey’rerefusingtosing,andthatdoesn’tmakeanysense.Thepointisthatthey’redyingandsohismitochondriacan’tproduceenoughoxygen.”Shebrokeoff,angrily.“Blajeny!Thisisallnonsense!Howcanwepossiblystopthemfromdoingwhateveritisthey’redoing,whenthey’resosmalltheyaren’tevenvisible?You’vegottotellus!HowcanwehelpCharles?”
Blajeny’skythingwascalmandcoldassteel.“Youwillknowsoon.”“Knowwhat?”“WhatyoumustdotoovercometheEchthroi.Whenyougetthere,my
children,youwillknow.”“Whenwegetwhere?”“TooneofCharlesWallace’smitochondria.”
8JourneyintotheInterior.NowthatBlajenyhadsaidit,itseemedtoMegtheonlylogical,theonly
possiblecourseofaction.IftheyweretosaveCharlesWallace,iffarandolaewerecausinghisillness,iftheEchthroiwereatworkwithinhimaswellaswithout,thentheonlyhopewasforthemtobecomesmallenoughtogointooneofhismitochondriaandseewhatwashappeningwiththefarandolae.
“MetronAriston—“Calvinspokesoftly.“Size.Wheresizesdon’tmatter.But—tobeassmallasagalaxyishuge:canyoumakeusthatsmall?”
Blajenysmiled.“Sizeisreallyquiterelative.”“Anyhow”—MeglookedatSporos—“we’realreadytalkingwitha
farandola.”Ifshehadtriedtoimagineafarandola,itwouldnothavelookedlikeSporos.
Mr.Jenkinsrosestifflyandmovedwithhispeculiarstork-likegaittoBlajeny.“Idon’tknowwhyIthoughtImightbeofhelp.Thisisallovermyhead.Iwillonlybeahindrancetothechildren.Youhadbettersendmebacktomyschool.Atleasttherearenosurprisesformethere.”
“Whataboutthismorning?”Blajenyasked.“Thatwasnotasurpriseforyou?Icannottellyouwhyyouhavebeensenttous,Mr.Jenkins,becauseImyselfdonotyetknow.ButMegNamedyou—“
“Thefullimplicationsofthisarenotyetcleartome.”“Itmeansthatyouarepartofwhateverisgoingtohappen.”Mr.Jenkinsmoaned.Blajenystretchedouthisarms,embracingthemallinthegesture.“The
mitochondriontowhichIamsendingyouisknownasYadah.ItisSporos’sbirthplace.”
Sporosdancedaround,twinglinginoutrage.Megshoutedathim,“IfyouareinCharlesWallace,ifhe’syourgalaxy,you
couldn’tbeinamorespecialplace!”LouisesenthersibilantsongtowardsMeg.AllangervanishedwhenMeg
caught,fromLouise’ssong,anotherprojectionofCharles,huddledundertheblankets.Hismotherliftedhimtoprophimuponpillowstoeasehislaboredbreathing,thenpulleddowntheblanketssothatDr.Louisecouldlistentohisheartwithherstethoscope.ShelookedupgravelyandMegunderstoodthatshewassuggestingthatperhapstheyhadbettercallBrookhaven.
“Oxygen,then!”MegcriedouttoLouisetheLargerandBlajeny.“Wouldn’toxygenhelpCharles?”
“Forawhile.Dr.Colubrawillseetothatwhenthetunecomes.”TearsrushedtoMeg’seyes.“Oh,Louise,takecareofhim.Don’tlethim
stopfighting.”Mr.Jenkinsasked,“Wouldanybodyinhisrightmindletasnakenearasick
child?”“Dr.Louisewill,”Megsaid,“I’msureshewill,fromsomethingshesaidin
mother’slabtheothernight.Blajeny!IsDr.LouiseaTeacher,too?”Blajenynodded.Meg’sheartgavealeapofhope.“Snakes,”Mr.Jenkinsmurmured.“Mitochondria.Echthroi.”Megswallowedahiccupysob,tookoffherglassesandwipedthetear-
smearedlenses.Mr.Jenkinslookedatherandspokeinhismoststilted,academicvoice.
“Man.Themeanpointintheuniverse.AndCharlesWallace—isthatit?AtthismomentintimeCharlesWallaceisthepointofequilibrium?”
Blajenynoddedgravely.“Sowhathappenswithhismitochondriaandfarandolae—?”Helookedto
Megforexplanation.Shetriedtopullherselftogether.“Remember,Mr.Jenkins,you’regreaton
BenjaminFranklin’ssaying,‘Wemustallhangtogether,orassuredlywewillallhangseparately.’That’showitiswithhumanbeingsandmitochondriaand.farandolae—andourplanet,too,Iguess,andthesolarsystem.Wehavetolivetogetherin—inharmony,orwewon’tliveatall.SoifsomethingiswrongwithCharlesWallace’smitochondria—“Hervoicetrailedoff.
Mr.Jenkinsshook.hishead.“Whatcanwedo?Whatcanwepossiblyhopetodo?”Thenhecriedoutinhorror.“Oh,no!”
Thepseudo-Mr.Jenkinstheyhadseenbeforewasmovingrapidlytowardsthem.Louiserearedherblackcoilsupwardswithahorriblehissing.
“Quickly!”Blajenyspreadhisarmswide,pullingMr.Jenkins,Sporos,andCalvinintotheirspan.ProginoskescaughtMegwithinthestrengthofhiswings,thebeatofhisheart.Sheseemedtobecomepartofthecherubim’sheartbeat.
Theovalpupildilated,andshewentthroughto—
Shecouldnottellwheretheywere;shecouldonlysensethepresenceoftheothers.Asthroughavast,echoingtunnelsheheardBlajeny:“Iwouldshowyousomethingtoencourageyoubeforeyougo.”
Meglookedabout.Aheadofherwasatremendousrhythmicswirlofwindandflame,butitwaswindandflamequitedifferentfromthecherubim’s;thiswasadance,adanceorderedandgraceful,andyetgivinganimpressionofcompleteandutterfreedom,ofineffablejoy.Asthedanceprogressed,themovementaccelerated,andthepatternbecameclearer,closer,windandfiremovingtogether,andtherewasjoy,andsong,melodysoaring,gatheringtogetheraswindandfireunited.
Andthenwind,flame,dance,song,coheredinagreatswirling,leaping,dancing,singlesphere.
MegheardMr.Jenkins’sincredulous,“Whatwasthat?”Blajenyreplied,“Thebirthofastar.”Mr.Jenkinsprotested,“Butit’ssosmallIcouldholditinthepalmofmy
hand.”Andthenanindignantsnort,“HowbigamI?”“Youmuststopthinkingaboutsize,youknow.Itisbothrelativeand
irrelevant.”AtthispointMegcouldnotbebotheredwithsize.Shewantedtoknow
somethingelse.“Progo,willthestarbeNamed?”“Hecallsthemallbyname,”thecherubimsaid.Meglookedinwonderatthestar.Itwasindeedsosmallthatshecouldhave
reachedoutandcaughtitinherhand,butitsflamingwassointensethatthesongitselfcameoutofthefireandwaspartoftheburning.Shethoughtinwonder,—Imustbethesizeofagalaxy.
Andthenallthoughtsdissolvedinthegloryofthemelodyandthedance.Blajeny’svoicecamelikethunder,“Now!”ShewaspulledintoProginoskesagain,intothebeatofthegreatheart,into
thedarknessof.theeye,intothe—No!Shewasbeingconsumedbyflame.Shesensedaviolentjolttothecosmic
rhythm,adistortionofwilddisharmony—Shetriedtoscream,butnosoundcame.Shefeltpainsointensethatshe
couldnotbearitanothersecond;anothersecondandthepainwouldannihilateherentirely.
Thenthepainwasgone,andshefeltonceagaintherhythmofthecherubicheart,veryrapid,faintlyirregular.“Didithavetohurtthatmuch?”Shockandpainmadeherloudandangry.Herlimbstrembledweakly.
Proginoskesseemedtobehavingtrouble;hisheartcontinuedtoraceunevenly.Shethoughtsheunderstoodhimtosay,“WehadabrushwithanEchthros.”
Herownbreathingwasashallowpanting.Shefeltthatshewasallthere,allheratomsreassembled,thatshewasMeg;andyetwhensheopenedhereyesshecouldseenothingbutastrange,deepgreen-blackness.Shelistened,listened,andthroughwhatseemedatfirsttobeasoundsomewhatliketheshrillingofinsectsonasummernight,shethoughtshecouldhear—orperhapsitwasfeel—asteady,regularpulsing.
“Progo,wherearewe?”“Yadah.”“YoumeanweareinCharlesWallace?Inoneofhismitochondria?”“Yes.”Itwasnotconceivable.“What’sthatsortofthrummingIfeel?IsitCharles
Wallace’sheartbeat?”Proginoskesmovedinnegationinhermind.“It’stherhythmofYadah.”“Itfeelslikeaheartbeat.”“Megling,we’renotinearthtimenow;we’rewithinYadah.Infarandolae
time,CharlesWallace’sheartbeatssomethinglikeonceadecade.”Sheshivered.Herarmsandlegsstillfelttremblyanduseless.Sheblinked,
tryingtoadjusthereyestothedarkness.“Progo,Ican’tsee.”“Nobodyintheulteriorcansee,Meg.Eyesaren’tneeded.”Herheartbeatinfrightenedcounterpointtotherhythmofthemitochondrion.
ShecouldnotpayproperattentionasProginoskessaid,“It’swhatmightbecalledacircadianrhythm.Alllifeneedsrhythmto—“
Sheinterrupted.“Progo!Blajeny!Ican’tmove!”ShefeltProginoskeswithinherthoughts.Hisownthinkinghadcalmed
considerably;hewasrecoveringfromwhateveritwasthathadfrightenedhimandcausedhersomuchpain.“Blajenydidnotcomewithus.”
“Why?”“Thisisnotimeforsillyquestions.”
“Whyisitsilly?Whycan’tIsee?Whycan’tImove?”‘Meg,youmuststoppanickingorIwon’tbeabletokythewithyou.We
won’tbeabletohelpeachother.”Shemadeatremendousefforttocalmdown,butwitheachheartbeatshefelt
onlymoretense,morefrightened.HowcouldherheartbepoundingsorapidlyifCharlesWallace’sbeatonlyonceadecade?
Proginoskesthoughtnoisilyather,“Timeisn’tanymoreimportantthansize.AllthatisrequiredofyouistobeintheNow,inthismomentwhichhasbeengivenus.”
“Idon’tfeellikemyself.I’mnotmyself!I’mpartofCharlesWallace.”“Meg.YouareNamedforever.”“ButProgo—““Saythemultiplicationtable.”“Nowwho’sbeingsilly?”“Megling,itwillhelpbringyoutoyourself.Try.”“Ican’t.”Hermindfeltbatteredandnumb.Shecouldnotevenremember
enoughtocounttoten.“What’s7times8?”Sherespondedautomatically.“56.”“What’stheproductof2/3and5/7.”Hermindwhirled,cleared.“10over21.”“What’sthenextprimenumberafter67?”“71.”“Canwethinktogethernow?”Therewasconsiderableconcernin
Proginoskes’squestioning.TheconcentrationthecherubimhadthrustonMeghadcalmedherpanic.
“I’mokay.Where’sCalvin?Where’sMr.Jenkins?Andthat—thatSporos?”“They’reallhere.You’llbeabletokythewiththemsoon.Butfirstwehave
tofindoutwhatthesecondtestis.”“Findout?”Hermindwasstillblurredfrompainandfright.Hewaspatientwithher.“Aswefoundoutwhatthefirsttestwas.”“Youguessedthat,”shesaid.“Doyouknowwhatthisoneis?”“IthinkithastodowithSporos.”
“Butwhat?”‘Thisiswhatwemustdiscover.”“Wehavetohurry,then.”Shetriedtocheckherimpatience.“Meg,IhavetoworkwithyouandMr.Jenkinstogether,becauseheisn’t
capableoflettingmemoveaboutinhismindasyoucan,soyou’llhavetohelp.Thegrownfarandolaedon’ttalkthewaypeopledo,theykythe.”
“Likecherubim?”“SomeoftheAncientOnes,yes.Withtheyoungeronesit’salittlecloserto
whatyoucalledmentaltelepathy.Nevermindthedegree;Mr.Jenkinscan’tunderstandkythingatall,andyou’llhavetohelphim.”
“I’lltry.Butyou’llhavetohelpme,Progo.”“Stretchoutyourrighthand—““Ican’tmove.”“Thatdoesn’tmatter.Moveyourhandinyourmind.Kytheit.KythethatMr.
Jenkinsisstandingbyyou,andthatyou’rereachingouttoholdhishand.Areyoudoingit?”
“I’mtrying.”“Canyoufeelhishand?”“Ithinkso.Atleast,I’mmakingbelieveIcan.”“Holdit.Tightly.Sothatheknowsyou’rethere.”Herhand,whichwasnolongerherhandinanywayshehadknownbefore,
neverthelessmovedintherememberedpattern,andshethoughtshefeltaslightpressureinreturn.Shetriedtokythetotheprincipal.“Mr.Jenkins,areyouthere?”
“Here.”Itwaslikeanechoofafaintlyrememberedvoicehoarsewithchalkdust;butsheknewthatsheandMr.Jenkinsweretogether.
“Meg,youwillhavetokythehimeverythingItellyou.IfImoveintohismindIhurthim;hecan’tabsorbmyenergy.Now,trytotranslatesimultaneouslyforhim:makehimseethatagrownfarandola’smatterdoesnotmove,exceptasaplantdoes,oratreewhenthereisnobreezetocauseitsmotion,orasthegreatkelpforestsmove.Agrownfarandolamovesbykything.KythingisnotgoingtobeeasyforMr.Jenkins,becauseithasbeenagreatmanyyearssincehe’sknownhimself,hisrealself.”
Megsighedwithakindofanxiousfatigue,suddenlyrealizingtheenormous
amountofenergytakenbythisintensekything.Thecherubimmovedlightly,swiftlywithinher,andhiskythingmovedthroughandbeyondhersensestoanawarenessshehadneverknownbefore.ShegropedtocontainitinimageswhichwerewithinMr.Jenkins’scomprehension.
Thesea,avast,curving,never-endingsea;itwasasthoughtheywereinthatsea,deepdownunderthewater’ssurface,deeperthanawhalecandive.Thesurfaceofthesea,andanylightwhichmightpenetratethesurface,washundredsoffathomsaway.Inthedarkdepthstherewasmovement,movementwhichwaspartoftherhythmshehadmistakenforCharlesWallace’sheartbeat.Themovementassumedshapeandform,andimageswerekythedtohermind’seye,visualprojectionssuperimposedswiftlyoneovertheother;shetriedtosendthemtoMr.Jenkins:
aprimordialfernforest;agiantbedofkelpswayingtosubmarinecurrents;aprimevalforestofancienttreeswithrough,silverbark;underwatertreeswithsilver-gold-greenfoliagewhichundulatedregularly,
rhythmically,notasthoughthelongfrondswerebeingblownbywindorcurrentbutoftheirownvolition,liketheundulationofthosestrangeseacreatureshalfwaybetweenplantlifeandanimallife.
Tothevisualimagesmusicwasadded,strange,unearthly,rich,thesurgingsongofthesurroundingsea.
Farandolae.ShefeltconfusionandquestioningfromMr.Jenkins.Tohimfarandolae
werelittlescamperingcreatureslikeSporos,notliketheseatreesshehadbeentryingtoshowhim.
Proginoskeskythed,“Theseatrees,asyoucallthem,arewhatSporoswillbecomewhenheDeepens.Theyarethencalledfara.OncehehasDeepenedhewillnolongerhavetorunabout.Agrownfaraisfarlesslimitedthanahumanbeingisbytimeandplace,becausefaraecanbewitheachotheranytimeinanyplace;distancedoesn’tseparatethem.”
“Theymovewithoutmoving?”Megasked.“Youmightputitthatway.”“AmItolearntomovewithoutmoving,too?”“Yes,Meg.There’snootherwayinamitochondrion.There’snothingfor
youtostandoninYadah,andnospaceforyoutomovethrough.Butbecause
you’reanearthling,andearthlingsexcelinadaptability,youcanlearnthismotionlessmotion.AreyoutranslatingforMr.Jenkins?”
“I’mtrying.”“Keepon,Meg.We’llhavetimetorestlater,unless—“Shefeltasmall,
sharppain,whichwasimmediatelywithdrawn.“SomeoftheAncientOnescankythenotonlyfrommitochondriontomitochondrionwithintheirhumanhosts,buttofarandolaeonmitochondriainotherhumanhosts.DoyourememberhowshockedSporoswaswhenCalvintoldhimthathumanbeingscan’tdothatkindofthing?”
“Yes,butProgo,Mr.Jenkinsdoesn’tunderstandaboutSporosrunningaroundlikeatoymouse.Idon’tunderstanditeither.Heisn’tabitlikethesortofseathingsyoujustshowedus.”
“Sporosis,ashesaid,onlyachild,althoughhewasjugglingchronologieswhenhesaidhewasbornyesterday.Afarandolawellintoadolescencehasalreadypassedthroughitsearlystagesandtakenrootandisbecomingagrownfara.ItisnearlytimeforSporostoleavechildhoodandDeepen.Ifhedoesnot,itwillbeanothervictoryfortheEchthroi.”
“Butwhywouldn’theDeepen?”“Calvinishavingtroublekythingwithhim.Sporosisholdingback.Wehave
tohelphimDeepen,Meg.That’soursecondtest,I’msureitis.”TomakeanunwillingSporosDeepen;itseemedamoreimpossibleordeal
thanNamingoneofthreeMr.Jenkinses.“Howdowedoit?”Hecounteredwithanotherquestion.“Areyoucalm?”Calm!Then,onceagain,shemovedintothatstrangeplacewhichisonthe
othersideoffeeling.WithonepartofherselfsheknewthatshewasinCharlesWallace,actuallyinsideherbrother;thatshewassosmallthatshecouldn’tbeseeninthemostpowerfulmicro-electronmicroscope,orheardinthemicro-sonarscope;sheknew,too,thatCharlesWallace’slifedependedonwhatwasgoingtohappennow.ShewasbeginningtogetaglimmerofwhatProginoskesmeantwhenhetalkedaboutthedangersoffeeling.Sheheldherselfverystill,verycold,thenturnedtowardsthecherubiminquietkything.
“Beafara,”hetoldher.“Makebelieve.DotheinhabitantsofYadahseemmorelimitedthanhumanbeingsbecauseoncetheyhavetakenroottheycan’tmovefromtheirDeepeningPlace?ButhumanbeingsneedDeepeningPlaces,too.Andfartoomanyneverhaveany.ThinkaboutyourDeepeningPlaces,
Meg.Openyourselfintokything.Open,”Shereturnedtothestrangeworldwhichwasbelowlight,belowsound,
penetratedonlybytherhythmoftidespulledbythemoon,bythesun,bytherhythmoftheearthitself.Shebecameonewiththekything,Deepenedcreaturesmovingintheintricatepatternofsong,ofthelovelinessofrhythm,ofjoy.
Thenacoldnesscame,ahorrible,blood-freezingchill.Tendrilsweredrawnback,pulledawayfromher,isolatingthemselves,isolating,Meg,Proginoskes,eachother.Thesongjerked,outofrhythm,outoftune,rejectingher—
Somethingwaswrong,horrifyinglywrong—ShefeltProginoskeshurlinghimselfather,intoher.“Meg!That’senough
fornow.Wemustbewiththeothers,Calvin,Mr.Jenkins,Sporos,before—““Beforewhat?”“Beforethesecondtest.Wemustallbetogether.Open.KythetoCalvin.”“Whereishe?”“Itdoesn’tmatterwhereheis,Meg.You’vegottogetitthroughyourhead
thatwheredoesn’tmakeanydifferenceinamitochondrion.It’swhy.Andhow.Andwho.”
“Calvin—“Sheseemedtofeeleverymuscleinherbodystraining,andprotestingatthestrain.
“You’retryingtoohard,”thecherubimsaid.“Relax,Megling.Youkythewithmewithoutallthateffort.YouandCalvinoftenkythewithoutrealizingit.AndwhenCharlesWallaceknowswhensomething’supsetyouatschool,knowsitevenbeforeyoucomehome,that’skything.JustbeMeg.Open.Be.Kythe.”
Throughthedarknessofunderseashekythed.“Calvin—““Meg!”“Whereareyou?”Proginoskesflickedsharplyather.“Forgetwhere.”“Howareyou?”“Allright.Alittleconfusedbyeverything.Sporos—““Where—no,howisSporos?”“Meg,hedoesn’twanttokytheorbewithme.Hedoesn’twanttosharehis
world.Hesaysthathumanbeingsareunworthy,andthatmaybeso,but—“Shefeltaswirlingofkythingallaroundher,asthoughthewordsandimages
ofthekythingwerethedropsofwaterwhichgotomakeuptheocean,dropsof
waterwhicharenotseparateonefromtheotherashumanbeingsareseparate.Withintheflowingofthedeeptidesimagesflashedby,manylittlecreatureslikeSporos,scamperingabout,carefree,merry,alwaysintheprotectionofthegreatkelp-fern-trees,theDeepenedOnes,aboutwhichtheyflittedandfluttered.
“AreyoutranslatingforMr.Jenkins?”“I’mtrying,Progo,butI’mnotsureIreallyfeelhim.IknowthatI’mwith
you,andwithCalvin,butMr.Jenkins—““Bewithhim,Meg.Heneedsyou.He’sfrightened.”“IfBlajenywantedhimalong,theremustbeareasonforit.Butitseemsto
mehe’sanawfulliability.”Shethoughtshefeltathin,distant“Iamawareofthat.”Shestretchedherselftowardsthatfaintresponse.“Mr.Jenkins—““That’sright,”Proginoskessaid.“Remember,hehasn’tmuchimagination.
Or,rather,it’sbeenfrozenforalongwhileandhasn’thadtimetothaw.You’llhavetokytheyourwholeselftohim;you’llhavetoholdhishand,tightly,sothathecanfeelyouandreturnyourkythe.Canyoufeelhishand?”
“I—Iimagineso.”“Canhefeelyou?”“Mr.Jenkins!Mr.Jenkins?”shekythedquestioningly.“Waitaminute,
Progo,Cal,I’mnotsure,something’swrong—“Shebrokeoff,gasped,“Calvin!Progo!Pro—“Witheveryparticleofherselfshescreamed,notascreammadewithhervoice,butwithallofher,ascreamofpainthatwasbeyondterror.
ItwasthesamepainthathadtornacrossagalaxywhenProginoskeshadshownhertheXingoftheEchthroi;itwasthepainwhichhadslashedacrosstheskyintheschoolyardwhenshehadNamedMr.Jenkins;itwasthepainwhichhadalmostannihilatedherwhenProginoskestookherthestrangejourneythroughhiseyetoYadah.
ShewasbeingXed.
9FarandolaeandMitochondria.ThiswastheendofMeg.Therewastobenomoreanything.Ever.ExitMeg.
Ex-Meg.X-Meg.Thensherealizedthatifshecouldthinkthis,ifshecouldthinkatall,thenit
wasnothappening.OnewhoisXedcannotthink.Thepainstillburnedlikeice,butshecouldthinkthroughit.Shestillwas.
WithallofhershekythedawayfromtheXness.“Progo!Calvin!Helpme!”Throughhercriesshefeltthecherubim.“Meg!INameyou!Youare!”Andthennumbers,numbersmovingasstrongandsteadyandrhythmicas
tide.Calvin.Hewassendingnumberstoher,Calvinwassendingbacktoher
thosefirsttrigonometryproblemstheyhaddonetogether.Sheheldontothestrengthofnumbersastoalifeline,untiltheEchthroi-painwasgoneandshewasfreetomovebackintotherealmofwordsagain,humanwordswhichweremucheasierforCalvinthannumbers.
“Calvin,”shecalled.“Oh,Calvin.”Andthenherkythingwasananguishedlongingforherparents.Wherewasherfather?HadDr.LouiseorhermothercalledBrookhaven?Whathadtheytoldherfather?Washeonhiswayhome?Andhermother—shewantedtoretreat,reverse,revert,toclimbbackintohermother’slapasshehaddonewhenshewasCharlesWallace’sageandneededhealingfromsomesmallhurt...
No,Meg.Shefeltasthoughgentlefingerswerepushingherdown,forcinghertowalk
alone.Shetriedtokythe,togethermind’svoiceintofocus,sentitsbeamatlasttoProginoskesandCalvin.“Whathappened?”
ShefeltaseriesofmajorearthquakesbeforeProginoskesmanagedwordsforher.Whateveritwasthathadhappened,ithadcertainlyupsetthecherubim.Hekythedatlast,“Asthoughonceweren’tenough,whenyoureachedoutforMr.Jenkins’shandyougotanEchthros-Mr.Jenkins.Nowweknowthatatleastoneofthemfollowedushere.”
“How?”“NotthroughMr.Jenkins,thoughit’sstillusingaJenkins-body.Perhaps
Sporos—““Sporos!”
“PridehasalwaysbeenthedownfalloftheDeepeningOnes.SporosmayhavelistenedtoanEchthros—wearen’tsure.”
“Whatdidyoudo?Howdidyougetmeawayfromit?Ithurt—ithurtmorethanIknewanythingcouldhurt.AndthenIfeltyouNamingme,Progo,andyou,Cal,youweresendingnumberstome,andthepainwentandIwasbackintomyselfagain.”
Calvinkythed,“ProginoskesgotalotoflittlefarandolaetorushupandtickletheEchthros-Mr.Jenkins.Itwassostartled,itletyougo.”
“Whereisitnow—theEchthros-Mr.Jenkins?”Proginoskeswassharp.“Itdoesn’tmatterwhere,Meg.It’shere.It’swithus
inYadah.”“Thenwe’restillindangerfromit?”“AllYadahisindanger.Everymitochondrioninthishumanhostisin
danger.”“Thishumanhost?”Proginoskesdidnotreply.ThishumanhostwasCharlesWallace.“Whatarewegoingtodo?”TherewasanothervolcanicupheavalbeforeProginoskesreplied,“Wemust
notgivewaytopanic.”ShekythedCalvinwardsandfelthimreturningthekything.Sheasked,“Did
youknowwhatwashappeningtome?”“Notatfirst.ThenProgotoldme.”TherewasaterriblequietnesstoCalvin’s
reply.Shefeltthathewasholdingsomethingbackfromher.“Thelittlefarandolae—theoneswhosavedme—aretheyallright?”Therewassilence.“Aretheyallright,thelittlefarandolaewhostartledtheEchthrosandsaved
me?”“No.”ThekythingcamereluctantlyfrombothCalvinandProginoskes.“Whathappenedtothem?”“TosurpriseanEchthrosisnotasafethingtodo.”“TheEchthrosXedthem?”“No,Meg.TheyXedthemselves.That’saverydifferentmatter.”“Whatwillhappentothemnow?”
Proginoskeskythedslowly,“I’veneverseenithappenbefore.I’veheardaboutit,butI’veneverseenit.NowIunderstandmorethanIusedto.Thefarandolaeareknownbynamejustasthestarsare.That’sallIneedtoknow.”
“Youhaven’ttoldmeanything!Wherearethelittlefarandolaewhosavedme?IftheyXedthemselves,thenwherearethey?”
Sheheardafaint“Wheredoesn’tmatter.Meg,youmustgetintouchwithMr.Jenkins.TherealMr.Jenkins.”
Instinctivelyshewithdrewherkything.“Idon’tdaretryagain.Doyouhaveanyideahowmuchthathurt?”
“Yourscreamshooktheentiremitochondrion.Ionlyhopeitdidn’thurtCharlesWallace.”
Sheflinched,thenheldontosomething,shewasn’tsurewhat,butitfeltlikealifeline.Afteramomentsheknewthatitwascomingfromthecherubim,anoutflowingoflove,lovesotangiblethatshecouldholdontoit.
“ReachforMr.Jenkins,”Proginoskesurged.“Namehimforhimselfagain.Seehowmuchyou’vebeenabletokythetohim.Andremember,youhavetogoathisspeed,notyourown.”
“Why!He’sholdingusback!”“Hush,Meg.”Calvinkythed.“Adultstakelongeratthiskindofthingthan
wedo,particularlyadultslikeMr.Jenkinswhohasn’ttriednewthoughtsforalongtime.”
“Butwedon’thavetime!CharlesWallace—““Isaidhetakeslongerthanwedo,andthat’strue.Butsometimesadultscan
godeeperthanwecan,ifwe’repatient.”“Wedon’thavetimetobepatient!”“Meg,trustBlajeny.Mr.Jenkinsmustbewithusforareason.Helphim.Do
whatProgosays.”Proginoskeskythedurgently,“WemayneedMr.JenkinstogetSporosto
Deepen.Blajenywouldn’thavesenthimunless—oh,Meg,aTeacherneverdoesanythingwithoutreason.TrytoreachMr.Jenkins,Meg.”
ShepushedherterrorasideandopenedherselftokythingandshewaswithCharlesWallace,notwithinhim,notwithouthim,
butwithhim,partofhisexhaustion,histerrifyingenergyloss,hisstruggletobreathe.Oh,fight,Charles,don’tstopstruggling,,breathe,breathe,I’lltrytohelp,I’lldoanythingLeantohelp,eventhenShewaswiththetwins.CharlesWallace,shethought,hadsenther.Thetwinswereinthegarden,digging,grimlyspadingupandturningunder
theoldtomatoplants,thefrost-blackenedzinnias,thelettucegonetoseed,turningthemundertoenrichtheearthforthenextspring,thenextplanting,withsetfacesworkingsilently,takingouttheiranxietyoverCharlesWallaceinphysicallabor.-Sandybrokethesilence.“Where’sMeg?”
Dennyspaused,hisfootonhispitchforkashepresseditintotheearth.“Sheshouldbegettinghomefromschoolsoon.”
“CharlesWallacesaidsheisn’tinschool.HesaidthatMegisinhim.Iheardhim.”
“CharlesWallaceisdelirious.”“Haveyoueverseenanyonedie?”“Onlyanimals.”“IwishMegwouldcomehome.”“SodoI.”Theywentonwiththeirpreparationofthegardenforthewintercoldand
snow.Ifthetwins’jobissimplytotakecareoftheirgarden—Megtoldherself,—
yourjobistoreachMr.Jenkins.Where?Nowhere.JustMr.Jenkins.“Mr.Jenkins.Mr.Jenkins.YouareyouandnobodyelseandINamedyou.
I’mkything,Mr.Jenkins.HereIam.Me.Meg.YouknowmeandIknowyou.”Shethoughtsheheardasniff,aMr.Jenkinssniff.Thenheseemedtorecede
again.Thisminusculeunderseaworldwastotallybeyondhiscomprehension.Shetriedtokythetohimoncemorealltheimagesinearthequivalentswhichshehadreceived,butherespondedwithnothingbeyondanxiousblankness.
“Namehim,”Proginoskesurged.“Heisafraidtobe.WhenyouNamedhimintheschoolyard,thatwaskything,thatwashowyouknewhimfromthetwoEchthroi-Mr.Jenkinses,howyoumustknowhimthistune.”
Mr.Jenkins.Unique,aseverystarintheskyisunique,everyleafoneverytree,everysnowflake,everyfarandola,everycherubim,unique:Named.
HegaveCalvinshoes.Andhedidn’thavetocomewithustothisdangerandhorribleness,buthedid.Hechosetothrowinhislotwithuswhenhecouldhavegonebacktoschoolandhissafelifeasafailure.
Yes,butforanunimaginativemantocomewiththemintotheunimaginablyinfinitesimalunknownisn’tthekindofthingafailuredoes.
Nevertheless,Mr.Jenkinshaddoneit,wasdoingit.“Mr.Jenkins,Iloveyou!”Shedid.Withoutstoppingtothinksheputherimaginedhandintohis.Hisfingers
wereslightlydampandchill,justasclammyasshehadalwaysthoughtMr.Jenkins’shandwouldbe.
Andreal.
10Yadah.OfcourseMr.Jenkins’shandwouldbedamp.He’dbescaredoutofhiswits.
HewasyearsawayfromgamesofMakeBelieveandLet’sPretend.“Mr.Jenkins,areyouallright?”Shefeltafumblingkything,afrightenedinabilityto-acceptthattheywere
actuallyinamitochondrion,amitochondrionwithinoneofCharlesWallace’scells.“Howlonghavewebeenhere?”
“I’mnotsure.Somuchhashappened.Progo—you’resurewe’reinfarandolatime,notearthtune?”
“Farandolatime.”“Whew!”shetoldMr.Jenkinsinrelief.“Thatmeansthattimeonearthis
passingmuchmoreslowlythantimeisforus—aeonsmoreslowly.CharlesWallace’sheartbeatsonlyonceeverydecadeorso.”
“Evenso,”Proginoskeswarned,“there’snotimetowaste.”AnotherflashofCharlesWallace’sface,ashen,eyesclosed,breathing
labored;ofhermother’sface,tightwithpain;ofDr.Louise,watchful,waiting.ShestoodwithhersmallhandlightlyagainstCharlesWallace’swrist.
“Iknow,”Megansweredthecherubim.Acoldwindseemedtoblowthroughtheintersticesofherribs.ShemustbestrongforCharlesWallacenow,sothathecoulddrawonthatstrength.Sheheldhermindquietandsteadyuntilitcalmed.
ThensheopenedherselfagaintoMr.Jenkins.Muddiedthoughtswhichcouldhardlyqualifyaskythingmovedaboutherlikesluggishwater,andyetsheunderstoodthatMr.Jenkinswasbeingmoreopenwithherthanhehadeverbeenbefore,orthanheeverwasabletobewithmostpeople.HismindshudderedintoMeg’sashetriedtograsptheextraordinaryfactthathewasstillhimself,stillMr.Jenkins,atthesametimethathewasaminusculepartofthechildwhohadbeenoneofhismostbafflingandirritatingproblemsatschool.
Megtriedtolethimknow,inasunalarmingawayaspossible,thatatleastoneoftheEchthroid-Mr.JenkinseswaswiththemonYadah.Shedidnotwanttorecallherterrorduringherencounterwithoneofthem,butshehadtohelpMr.Jenkinsunderstand.
Hesentheraresponse,firstofbafflement,thenfear,thenastrangetendernesstowardsher.“Youshouldnotbeaskedtoenduresuchthings,
Margaret.”“There’smore,”shetoldhim.Thismorewashardestofall,tomakehim
understandthatsomeofthelittlefarandolae,someoftheplayful,dancingcreatures,hadsavedherfromtheEchthros-Mr.Jenkins,andhadsacrificedthemselvesindoingso.
Mr.Jenkinsgroaned.FromProginoskesMegrelayedtotheprincipal,“Itwasbetterthanlettingthe
EchthroiXthem.They’restill—they’restillpartofCreationthisway.”SheturnedherkythingtoProginoskes.“IftheEchthroiXsomething,orifsomethingXsitself,isitforever?”
Thecherubimsurroundedherwiththedarknessofhisunknowing.“Butwedon’tneedtoknow,Meg,”hetoldherfirmly,andthedarknessbegantoblowaway.“Iamacherubim.AllIneedtoknowisthatallthegalaxies,allthestars,allcreatures,cherubic,human,farandolan,all,all,areknownbyName.”Heseemedalmosttobecrooningtohimself.
Megkythedathimsharply.“You’reProgo.I’mMeg.He’sMr.Jenkins.Nowwhatarewesupposedtodo?”
Proginoskescamebackintofocus.“Mr.Jenkinsdoesnotwanttounderstandwhatafarandolais.”
“Evilisevil,”Mr.JenkinssentfumblinglyMegwards.Shefelthismindbalkingattheideaofcommunicationwheredistancewasnobarrier.“Micetalkbysqueaking,andshrimpby—Idon’tknowmuchmarinebiologybuttheymustmakesomesound.Buttrees!”heexpostulated.“Micewhoputdownrootsandturnintotrees—youdidsaytrees?”
“No.”Megwasimpatient,notsomuchatMr.Jenkinsasatherownineptitudeincommunicatingwithhim.‘Thefarae—well,theyaren’tunliketrees,sortofprimordialones,andtheyaren’tunlikecoralandunderwaterthingslikethat.”
“Treescannottalkwitheachother.”“Faraecan.Andasfortrees—don’tthey?”“Nonsense.”“Mr.Jenkins,whenyouwalkthroughthewoodsathome,andthewind
movesinthetrees,don’tyoueverhavethefeelingthatifyouknewhow,you’dbeabletounderstandwhattheyweresaying?”
“Never.”Ithadbeenalongtimesincehehadwalkedinthewoods.He
movedfromhislodgingstotheschool,fromtheschooltohislodgings,drivinghimselfbothways.Hedidnothavetimetogoforwalksinthewoods....
Shefeltadimregretinhiskything,soshetriedtomakehimhearthesoundofwindinthepinewoods.“Ifyoucloseyoureyesitsoundslikeoceanwaves,eventhoughwe’renotanywhereneartheocean.”
AllshefeltfromMr.Jenkinswasanothercoldwashofincomprehension.Sosheenvisionedasmallgroveofaspensforhim,eachleafshiveringand
shakingseparately,whisperingsoftlyinthestillsummerair.“I’mtooold,”wasMr.Jenkins’sresponse.“I’mmuchtooold.I’mjust
holdingyouback.YououghttoreturnmetoEarth.”Megforgotthatshehadrecentlymadeexactlythatsuggestion.“Anyhow,
YadahisonEarth,orinEarth,sortof,sinceit’sinCharlesWallace...”“No,no,”Mr.Jenkinssaid,“it’stoomuch.I’mnohelp.Idon’tknowwhyI
thoughtImightbe—“Hiskythingtrailedoff.ThroughhisdiscouragementshebecameawareofCalvin.“Hey,Meg!
Communicationimpliessound.Communiondoesn’t.”Hesentherabriefimageofwalkingsilentlythroughthewoods,thetwoofthemalonetogether,theirfeetalmostnoiselessontherustycarpetofpineneedles.Theywalkedwithoutspeaking,withouttouching,andyettheywereascloseasitispossiblefortwohumanbeingstobe.Theyclimbedupthroughthewoods,comingoutintothebrilliantsunlightatthetopofthehill.Afewsumactreesshowedtheirrustycandles.Mountainlaurel,shiny,sodarkagreentheleavesseemedblackinthefiercenessofsunlight,pressedtowardsthewoods.MegandCalvinhadstretchedoutinthethick,late-summergrass,lyingontheirbacksandgazingupintotheshimmeringblueofsky,avaultinterruptedonlybyafewsmallclouds.
Andshehadbeenashappy,sheremembered,asitispossibletobe,andasclosetoCalvinasshehadeverbeentoanybodyinherlife,evenCharlesWallace,soclosethattheirseparatebodies,daisiesandbuttercupsjoiningratherthandividingthem,seemedasingleenjoymentofsummerandsunandeachother.
Thatwassurelythepurestkindofkything.Mr.Jenkinshadneverhadthatkindofcommunionwithanotherhuman
being,acommunionsorichandfullthatsilencespeaksmorepowerfullythanwords.
AgainCalvinwaskythingwithquick,urgentwords.“TheWallStreet
Journal”“What!”“Mr.JenkinsreadsTheWallStreetJournal.Maybehemighthavereadthis.”“Readwhat?”“Youremember,justafewweeksagoIwastellingyouaboutascience
projectIdidyearsagowhenIwasinfourthgrade.Eventhetwinswereinterested.”
Meglistenedintently,tryingtokythesimultaneouslytoMr.Jenkins.Thesubjectoftheoldscienceprojecthadcomeupbecauseofthetwins’
garden.SandyandDennyswerebaffledandirritated.Someofthepepperplantshadlarge,firm,healthyfruit.Onothersthepepperswerewizenedandwrinkledandpale.Calvinhadbeentakenouttolookattheundersized,flabbyplants,whichshowednovisiblesignofdisease,andhehadbeenremindedofhisfourth-gradescienceproject.
Megasked,“Couldtheplantsbehavingthesamekindoftroublemitochondriaarehaving?CouldEchthroibotherthingslikegardens?”
Calvinpushedthisquestionasidetothinkaboutlater.“Notnow,Meg.Listen.IthinkmyscienceprojectwillhelpMr.Jenkinsunderstand.”
MegseemedtoseeMr.Jenkins’snosetwitchingasitalwaysdidwhenhewasreluctant.
“Okay,then.”Shekythedtohim,slowly,assimplyaspossible,Calvin’skythingalwaysastrongcurrentunderandthroughhers.
AtnineyearsofageCalvinreadavidly,everybookthatcameintothesmallvillagelibrary.Thelibrarian,seeinghispleasureinbooks,encouragedhim,gavehimaspecialcornerinthelibraryashisown,andgavehimalltheoldclassicsoftheimaginationtoread.Hisspanofconcentrationonthesestorieswasinfinite.
Butheconsideredmostoftheworkhewasgivenatschoolabore,particularlyscienceprojects.However,hewasalsofiercelycompetitive,anddeterminedtobethetopofhisclassinallsubjects,eventhoseheconsideredawasteoftune.
WhentheweekcamewhenhemustturninthetopicforhisscienceprojectbyFriday,hewasdisinterestedandplanless,butheknewhehadtochoosesomething.HewasthinkingaboutthiswithparticularurgencyonThursdayafternoonwhenhewashelpingoldMrs.Buncombecleanoutherattic.Whatcouldhechoosewhichwouldinteresttheteacherandclassandnotborehim
completely?Mrs.Buncomewasnotpayinghimforthedirtyanddustyjob—herattichadnotbeentouchedforyears—butshehadbribedhimtodoitbytellinghimthattherewasanoldsetofchinaupintheattic,andhecouldtakeitaspayment.PerhapssheknewthattheO’Keefescouldneversitdowntoamealtogether,eveniftheyhadwantedto,becausethereweren’tenoughplatesandcupsandsaucerstogoround.
Thechinawasinaboxatthebackoftheattic,anditwaswrappedinoldnewspapers.Someofitwasbroken;muchofitwascracked;itcertainlywasnotasetofforgottenWedgwoodorDresden.Whohadbotheredtowrapitupascarefullyasthoughitwereapricelessheirloom?However,therewasenoughofthesetlefttomakeitworthtakinghome.Heunwrappeditforhismother,whocomplainedungraciously,ifcorrectly,thatitwasjunk.
Heclearedupthecrumpled,yellowednewspapers,andbegantoreadone.ItwasanoldWallStreetJournal;thedatehadbeentornoff,butthepaperwasbrittleandstainedandheknewthatitmustbeagoodmanyyearsold.Hiseyecaughtanarticleaboutaseriesofexperimentsmadebyabiologist.
Thebiologisthadtheidea,unusualatthetime,thatplantswerecapableofsubjectivereactionstostimuli,andhedecidedtomeasurethestrengthofthesereactionsbyattachingelectrodes,likethoseusedinaliedetector,totheleavesofalarge,healthyphilodendron.
Atthatpointintheaccountasectionofpaperwastornaway,andCalvinlostseveralsentences.Hepickedupastatementthatelectronicneedleswouldrecordtheplant’sresponsesonagraph,muchasbrainwavesorheartpatternsarerecordedbytheelectro-encephalogramorelectrocardiogrammachines.
Thebiologistspentanentiremorninglookingattheneedlesmovinginastraightlineacrossthepaper.Nothinghappened.Noreactions.Theneedledidnotquiver.Thelinemovedslowlyandsteadily.
Thebiologistthought,“I’llmakethatplantreact.I’llburnoneofitsleaves.”Thestylusmadewildupanddownmarkingsofalarm.Therestofthearticlewastornoff.Mr.Jenkins’sthoughtscametoMegquiteclearly,alittleirritably,“Iread
thatarticle.Ithoughtitwasnonsense.Justsomecrackpot.”Calvinkythed,“Mostmajorscientificdiscoverieshavebeenmadeby
crackpots—oratleast,peoplewhowerethoughttobecrackpots.”“Myownparents,forinstance,”Megadded,“untilsomeoftheirdiscoveries
wereprovedtobetrue.”Calvincontinued.“Listen.There’smore.Ifoundanotherarticleamongthe
papers.”Thisonedescribedthebiologistgoingonacross-countrylecturingtour.He
askedoneofhisstudentstotakecareof,watch,andrecordthereactionsofhisphilodendron.
Theplant’salarmneedlesjumpednervouslywheneverthebiologist’splanetookofforlanded.
“Howwoulditknow?”Megasked.“Itdid.”“Butdistance,”sheprotested,“howcouldaplant,justanordinarydomestic
philodendron,knowwhatwashappeningmilesandmilesaway?”“Orcare,”camedourlyfromMr.Jenkins.“Distancedoesn’tseemtobeanymoreimportantthansize.Ortime.Asfor
caring—well,that’soutsidetherealmofprovablefact.”ForhisprojectCalvinhadworkedoutavariationonthethemeofplant
response.Hehadnowayofmeasuringthesubjectiveresponsesofaplant,sohedecidedtoplantthreebeanseeds.
Mr.Jenkinsdidnotthinkmuchofthis.Megkythedhimawarning,“Wait!ThiswasallCalvin’sownidea.Hewas
onlynineyearsoldthen,andbedidn’tknowthatexperimentsofthesamekindwerealreadybeingmade.”
Calvinplantedoneoftheseedsinapotwhichheleftinthekitchenathome.Heputitonawindowsillwhereitwouldgetsunlight,andhewatereditdaily.Hisbrothersandsisterswerewarnedthatiftheytoucheditthey’dgetclobbered.Theyknewhemeantit,andtheylefthisplantphysicallyalone.However,theplantheard—.
“Withoutears?”Mr.Jenkinskythedcrossly.“LikeLouise,maybe,”Megreturned.TheplantheardtheautomaticuglyinvectiveofdailyspeechinCalvin’s
home.Calvinhimselfstayedinthehouseaslittleaspossible.Theothertwoseedshetooktothelibrary,wherethelibrariangavehim
permissiontoputhispotsintwosunnywindows.Oneofthesebeanshewateredandcaredfordutifully.Thatwasall.Thethirdbeanhetalkedto,encouragingit,
urgingittogrow.Whenthefirstgreenshootappearedhelavishedonitallthelovewhichhadsolittleoutletinhishome.Hesat,afterschool,closebyhisplant,doinghishomework,readingaloudwhennobodywasaround,sharing.
Thefirstofthebeanplants,theoneintheO’Keefe’skitchen,waspuny,andtoopaleagreen,likethetwins’sicklypeppers.Thesecondplant,inthelibrarywindow,theplantgivenregularcarebutnospecialtimeorattention,grewnormally.Thethirdplant,theplantCalvinloved,grewstrongandgreenandunusuallylargeandhealthy.
Mr.Jenkinskythedthinlybutquitecomprehensibly,“Ifphilodendronandbeanscanreactlikethat,itshouldhelpmetounderstand
farandolae—isthatwhatyou’retryingtotellme?”“Sortof,”Megreplied.Calvinadded,“See?Distancedoesn’tmatter.Theycanknowandconverse
witheachother“anddistancedoesn’treallyexistforthem.”Mr.Jenkinssentoutwavesofdisbelief.“Andifthey’reloved,they’llgrow?
Andiftheyaren’tloved—““TheEchthroicanmovein.”NowsheheardwhatcouldonlybeSporos’stwingling.“They’redulland
slow,likeallhumanbeings,butyou’regettingthroughtothematlast,cherub.”“MynameisProginoskes,ifyouplease,mouse-creature.”Thefarandolawasnotamused.“MynameisSporos.”Areprovingtwingle.“Meg.”Proginoskeskytheddeeplyintoher.“Doyourealizewhathasjust
beenhappening?You’vebeenclosetoMr.Jenkins,haven’tyou?”“Iguessso.Yes.”“Andyetyourbodiesarenotclosetogether.Andyoualreadyknowthat
nothingcanseparateyoufromCalvinwhenyoukythetogether.”Yes.ShewaswithCalvin.Theyweretogether.Shefeltthewarmthofhis
quicksmile,asmilewhichalwayshadaslightquirkofsadnessandacceptanceunusualinasixteen-year-old.Hewasnotkythinginwordsnow,butingreatwavesofcourage,ofstrength,flowingoverandthroughher.
Sheacceptedit,absorbedit.Fortitude.Shewasgoingtoneedagreatdeal.Sheopenedherself,drankitin.
“Allright,”Proginoskestoldthem.“Wearetogether.Wecancontinue.”“Whatarewetodo?”Mr.Jenkinsasked.
“Thesecondtest,”thecherubimurged.“Wemustpassthesecondtest.”“Andthatis?”“ToNameSporos.AsMeghadtoNameyou.”“ButSporosisalreadyNamed!”“NotuntilhehasDeepened.”“Idon’tunderstand.”“WhenSporosDeepens,”ProginoskestoldMr.Jenkins,“itmeansthathe
coniesofage.Itmeansthathegrowsup.Thetemptationforfarandolaorformanorforstaristostayanimmaturepleasure-seeker.Whenweseekourownpleasureastheultimategoodweplaceourselvesasthecenteroftheuniverse.Afaraoramanorastarhashisplaceintheuniverse,butnothingcreatedisthecenter.”
Megasked,“Thelittlefarandolaewhosavedme—““Theycameofage,Meg.”Sheponderedthis.“IthinkIunderstand—““Idon’t,”Mr.Jenkinssaid.“IthoughtwecameheretotrytohelpCharles
Wallace,thatheisillbecauseofhismitochondria—“Proginoskespushedbackimpatience.“Heis.”“ButwhatdoesSporoshavetodowithCharlesWallace?”“ThebalanceoflifewithinYadahisprecarious.IfSporosandtheothersof
hisgenerationdonotDeepen,thebalancewillbealtered.IfthefarandolaerefusetoDeepen,thesongwillbestilled,andCharlesWallacewilldie.TheEchthroiwillhavewon.”
“Butachild—“Mr.Jenkinsasked.“Onesmallchild—whyishesoimportant?”
“ItisthepatternthroughoutCreation.Onechild,oneman,canswingthebalanceoftheuniverse.InyourownEarthhistorywhatwouldhavehappenedifCharlemagnehadfallenatRoncesvalles?Oneminorskirmish?”
“ItwouldhavebeenanEchthroivictory?”“Andyourhistorywouldhavebeenevendarkerthanitis.”“Mr.Jenkins!”Megcalled.“Listen,Ijustremembered:Forwantofanailthe
shoewaslost;forwantofashoethehorsewaslost;forwantofahorsetheriderwaslost;forwantofariderthemessagewaslost;forwantofthemessagethebattlewaslost;forwantofthebattlethewarwaslost;forwantofthewarthe
kingdomwaslost;andallforthewantofahorseshoenail.”“WemustsaveCharlesWallace!”Mr.Jenkinscried.“Whatcanwedo,
Progo?Whatcanwedo?”
11Sporos.Aburstofharmonysobrilliantthatitalmostoverwhelmedthemsurrounded
Meg,thecherubim,Calvin,andMr.Jenkins.Butafteramomentofbreathlessness,Megwasabletoopenherselftothesongofthefarae,thesestrangecreatureswhowereDeepened,rooted,yetneverseparatedfromeachother,nomatterhowgreatthedistance.
Wearethesongoftheuniverse.Wesingwiththeangelichost.Wearethemusicians.Thefaraeandthestarsarethesingers.Oursongorderstherhythmofcreation.
Calvinasked,“Howcanyousingwiththestars?”Therewassurpriseatthequestion:itisthesong.Wesingittogether.Thatis
ourjoy.AndourBeing.“Buthowdoyouknowaboutstars—inhere—inside—“Howcouldfaraenotknowaboutstarswhenfaraeandstarssingtogether?“Youcan’tseethestars.Howcanyoupossiblyknowaboutthem?”Totalincomprehensionfromthefarae.IfMegandCalvinkythedinvisual
images,thiswastheirlimitation.Thefaraehadmovedbeyondphysicalsight.“Okay,”Calvinsaid.“Iknowhowlittleofourselves,andofourbrains,
we’velearnedtouse.Wehavebillionsofbraincells,andweuseonlythetiniestportionofthem.”
Mr.Jenkinsaddedwithhisdry,ropykythe,“Ihaveheardthatthenumberofcellsinthebrainandthenumberofstarsintheuniverseissaidtobeexactlyequal.”
“Progo!”Megasked.“Youmemorizedthenamesofallthestars—howmanyarethere?”
“Howmany?Greatheavens,earthling,Ihaven’tthefaintestidea.”“Butyousaidyourlastassignmentwastomemorizethenamesofallof
them.”“Idid.Allthestarsinallthegalaxies.Andthat’sagreatmany.”“Buthowmany?”“Whatdifferencedoesitmake?Iknowtheirnames.Idon’tknowhowmany
thereare.It’stheirnamesthatmatter.”ThestrongkythingofthefaraejoinedProginoskes.“Andthesong.Ifitwere
notforthesupportofthesingingofthegalaxies,wefaraeonYadahwouldhavelostthemelody,sofewofthefarandolaeareDeepening.Theun-Namersareatwork.”
Megfeltasuddenchill,apullingback,afadingoftheDeepenedfarae;therewasdissonanceintheharmony;therhythmfaltered.
Inhermind’seyeanimagewasflashedofatroopoffarandolaedancingwildlyaboutonefara-tree,goingfasterandfaster,untilshefeltdizzy.
“Sporosiswiththem,”Proginoskestoldher.“Whataretheydoing?Whyaretheyspinningfasterandfaster?”Thecircle
offarandolaerevolvedsorapidlythatitbecameaswirlingblur.Thefrondsofthegreatfaraaroundwhomthey
swirledbegantodroop.“Theyareabsorbingthenourishmentwhichthefaraneeds.Thefarais
Senex,fromwhomSporoscame.”TherewaschillinProginoskes’swords.ThespeedofthedancingfarandolaebecamelikeascreaminMeg’sears.
“Stop!”shecried.“Stopitatonce!”Therewasnothingmerryorjoyfulinthedance.Itwassavage,wild,furious.
Then,throughtheragingofthedancecameastrong,purestrainofmelody,quiet,certain,noble.Thedancingfarandolaebroketheircircleandscamperedaboutaimlessly;-then,ledbySporos,theyracedtoanotherfaraandbegancirclingit.
ThefrondsofSenexgreened,lifted.Proginoskessaid,“Heisstrongenoughtoholdoutlongerthananyofthe
otherfarae.ButevenSenexcannotholdoutforever.”Hestoppedabruptly.“Feel.”
“Feel?”“Therhythmofthemitochondrion.Isitmytearfulness,orisYadah
faltering?”“Itisnotyou,”Megansweredthecherubim.Theywereallverystill,
listening,feeling.Againtherecameaslightirregularityinthesteadypulsing.Afaltering.Amissedbeat.Thenitsteadied,continued.
Likeagashthroughthenon-lightofYadahMeghadabriefvisionofCharlesWallacelyinginhissmallroom,gaspingforair.ShethoughtshesawDr.Louise,butthestrangethingwasthatshecouldnottellwhetheritwasDr.
LouiseColubra,orLouisetheactualcolubra.“Don’tgiveup.Breathe,
Charles.Breathe.”Andasteadyvoice,“It’stimetotryoxygen.”ThenshewasdrawnbackwithinthemitochondriontoSenex,theparenttree
ofSporos.Shetriedtoconveytohimwhatshehadjustseen,butshereceivednothingfromhiminreturn.HisincomprehensionwasevengreaterthanMr.Jenkins’shadbeen.SheaskedProginoskes,“DoesSenexknowthatCharlesWallaceevenexists?”
“Asyouknowthatyourgalaxy,theMilkyWay,exists.”“DoesheknowthatCharlesWallaceisill?”“AsyouknowthatyourEarthisill,byfishdyingintherivers,birdsdyingin
theforests,peopledyinginthechokedcities.Youknowbywarandhateandchaos.SenexknowshismitochondrionisillbecausethefarandolaewillnotDeepenandmanyfaraearedying.Listen.Kythe.”
Agroupoffarandolaewhirledaboutafara;frondsdrooped;colordrained.Thedancewasascreamoflaughter,uglylaughter.Megsmelledthestenchwhichwaslikethestenchinthetwins’gardenwhenshehadfirstencounteredanEchthros.
Sheheardavoice.ItwaslikeabadtaperecordingofMr.Jenkins.“YouneednotDeepenandloseyourpowertomove,todance.Noonecanforceyouto.Donotlistentothefarae.Listentome.”
Thegreatcentraltrunkofthesurroundedfarabegantoweaken.Megtriedtoprojectherselfintothedance,tobreakthevortex.“Spores,
comeout!Don’tlisten.YouweresenttotheTeacher.Youbelongwithus.Comeout,Sporos,youaremeanttoDeepen!”
Thenitwasasthoughsheweretheendskaterinaviolentgameofcrack-the-whipandsuddenlywasflungsowildlyacrosstheicethatshecrashedintotheendoftherink.Theforcewithwhichshehadbeenthrownwassofiercethatherkythingwascompletelyblackedout.
“Breathe,Meg,breathe.”ItwasProginoskes,usingthesamewordswhichLouisewasusingwithCharlesWallace.“Breathe,Meg.You’reallright.”
Shereeled,staggered,regainedherbalance.Againsheheardtheuglylaugh,andthefalseMr.Jenkinsvoiceurging,“Kill
thefara!”ThencameMr.Jenkins’sownvoice.“Isee.Iunderstand.”Shefelt
emanatingfromhimadry,dustyacknowledgmentofunpleasantfact.Shereturnedsharply,stillslightlybreathless,“Idon’tunderstand.”
Mr.Jenkinsaskedher,“WhydidHitlerwanttocontroltheworld?OrNapoleon?OrTiberius?”
“Idon’tknow.Idon’tknowwhyanyonewould.Ithinkitwouldbeawful.”“Butyouadmitthattheydid,Margaret?”“Theywantedto,”sheconceded.“Buttheydidn’tsucceed.”“Theydidaremarkablygoodjobofsucceedingforaperiodoftime,andthey
willnotlightlybeforgotten.Agreatmanypeopleperishedduringtheyearsoftheirrules.”
“Butfarandolae—whywouldlittlefarandolaelikeSporos—““Theyappeartobenotthatunlikehumanbeings.”Shefeltcoldandquiet.OnceMr.Jenkinshadacceptedthesituation,he
understooditbetterthanshedid.Sheasked,“Okay,then,whathavetheEchthroigottodowithit?They’rebehindit,aren’tthey?”
Proginoskesanswered,“TheEchthroiarealwaysbehindwar.”MegturnedinanguishtowardsSenex,calmandstrongasanoaktree,but,
unliketheoak,pliable,abletobendwithwindandweather.“Senex,we’vebeensenttohelp,butI’mnotstrongenoughtofighttheEchthroi.Ican’tstopSporosandtheotherfarandolaefromkillingthefara.Oh,Senex,iftheysucceed,won’ttheykillthemselves,too?”
Senexrespondedcoldly,quietly.“Yes.”“Thisisinsane,”Mr.Jenkinssaid.Proginoskesanswered,“Allwarisinsane.”“But,asIunderstandit,”Mr.Jenkinscontinued,“weareaminutely
immeasurablepartofCharlesWallace?”“Weare.”“Thereforeif,whileweareon—or,rather,in—thismitochondrion,ifCharles
Wallaceweretodie,then—er—urn—we—““Die,too.”“ThenIfightnotonlyforCharlesWallace’slifebutforMeg’s,andCalvin’s,
and—““Yourown.”MegfeltMr.Jenkins’stotalindifferencetohisownlife.Shewasnotyet
willingtoaccepttheburdenofhisconcernforher.“Wemusn’tthinkaboutthat!Wemusn’tthinkaboutanythingbutCharles!”
Proginoskeswoundaroundandthroughherthoughts:“YoucannotshowyourconcernforCharlesWallacenowexceptinconcernforSporos.Don’tyouunderstandthatwe’reallpartofoneanother,andtheEchthroiaretryingtosplinterus,injustthesamewaythatthey’retryingtodestroyallCreation?”
Thedancingfarandolaewhirledandscreamed,andMegthoughtshecouldhearSporos’svoice:“We’renotpartofanybody!We’refarandolae,andwe’regoingtotakeoverYadah.Afterthat—“
AhideousscreechoflaughterassailedMeg’sears.Againsheflungherselfatthedance,tryingtopullSporosoutofit.
Senexdrewherbackwiththepowerofhiskythe.“Notthatway,notbyforce.”
“ButSporoshastoDeepen!Hehasto!”Then,aroundtheedgesofherawareness,Megheardatwingling,andCalvin
waswithSporos,tryingtoreachouttohim,tokythewithhim.Sporos’sresponsewasjangly,buthecameoutofthewildcircleandhovered
onitsperiphery.“WhydidBlajenysendyoualienlifeformstoYadahwithme?Howcanyoupossiblyhelpwithmyschooling?Wemakemusicbyourselves.Wedon’tneedyou.”
MegfeltProginoskes’svolcanicupheaving,feltaviolentwind,searingtonguesofflame.“Idiot,idiot,”Proginoskeswassending,“weallneedeachother.Everyatomintheuniverseisdependentoneveryother.”
“Idon’tneedyou.”SuddenlyProginoskeskythedquietlyandsimply,“Ineedyou,Sporos.We
allofusneedyou.CharlesWallaceneedsyou.”“Idon’tneedCharlesWallace.”Calvinkythedurgently,“Don’tyou?Whathappens*toyouifsomething
happenstoCharlesWallace?Whohaveyoubeenlisteningto?”Sporoswithdrew.Megcouldnotfeelhimatall.Calvinemanatedfrustration.“Ican’treachhim.Heslipsawayfromme
everytimeIthinkI’mgettingclose.”Sporoswaspulledbackintothewhirlingcircle.Thesurroundedfarawas
limp,alllifedrainingrapidly.Senexmourned,“Hissongisgoingout.”Proginoskeskythed,“Xed.Snuffedoutlikeacandle.”Senex’sfrondsdroopedingrief.“Sporosandhisgenerationlistentothose
whowouldsilencethesinging.Theylistentothosewhowouldputoutthelightofthesong.”
Mr.Jenkinsraisedshadowyarmsprophetically.‘Tokillthesongistheonlysalvation!”
“No!”Mr.JenkinscriedtoMr.Jenkins.“Youareonlyamirrorvisionofme.Youarenothing!”
NothingnothingnothingThewordechoed,hollow,empty,repeatingendlessly.EverywhereMeg
kythedsheseemedtomeetaprojectionofanEchthros-Mr.Jenkins.“Don’tyouunderstandthattheEchthroiareyoursaviors?Wheneverything
isnothingtherewillbenomorewar,noillness,nodeath.Therewillbenomorepoverty,nomorepain,nomoreslums,nomorestarvation—“
SenexkythedthroughtheEchthros.“Nomoresinging!”ProginoskesjoinedSenex.“Nomorestars,orcherubim,orthelightofthe
moononthesea.”AndCalvin:“Therewillneverbeanothermealaroundtable.Noonewill
everbreakbreadordrinkwinewithhiscompanions.”MegkythedviolentlyagainstthenearestEchthros-Mr.Jenkins,“Youare
nothing!You’reonlyborrowingMr.Jenkinsinordertobesomething.Goaway!Youarenothing!”
ThenshewasawarethattherealMr.Jenkinswastryingtoreachher.“Natureabhorsavacuum.”
Calvinreplied,“Thenwemustfillthevacuum.Thatistheonlythingtodo.”“How?”“IftheEchthroiarenothingness,emptiness,thenthatemptinesscanbe
filled.”“Yes,buthowdowefillit?”Senexkythedcalmly,“Perhapsyoudon’twanttofillitstronglyenough.
Perhapsyoudonotyetunderstandwhatisatstake.”“Ido!Alittleboy,mybrother—whatdoyouknowaboutmylittlebrother?”Senexconveyedconsiderableconfusion.Hehadafeelingfortheword
‘brother’becauseallfaraeare—orhadbeen—brothers.But‘littleboy’meantnothingtohimwhatsoever.
“Iknowthatmygalactichostisill,perhapsdying—“
“That’sCharlesWallace!That’smylittlebrother!Hemaybeagalactichosttoyou,buttomehe’sjustalittleboylike—likeSporos.”SheturnedherkythefromSenexandtowardsthewildlydancingfarandolaewhohadsurroundedanotherfara.Thistuneshekythedherselftowardsthemcautiously.HowcouldshebesurewhichonewasSporos?
AnEchthros-Mr.Jenkinswhinniedwithlaughter.“Itdoesn’tmatter.Nothingmatters.”Aharshtwangwoundedthemelodyofthefaraewhowerestillsinging.
OnceagainMegfeltfalteringinthemitochondrion.Yadahwasinpain.SuddenlysherememberedthefarandolaewhohadsavedherfromtheEchthroswhenProginoskesbroughtherintoYadah.NotallthefarandolaehadthrownintheirlotwiththeEchthroi.Orwerethose,whohadXedthemselvesthatshemightlivetheonlyoneswhowoulddefytheEchthroi?
Shebegancallingurgently,“Sporos!Farandolae!ComeawayfromtheEchthroi.Youwilldanceyourselvestodeath.CometoSenexandDeepen.Thisiswhatyouwereborntodo.Come!”
Someofthefarandolaefaltered.Otherswhirledthefaster,crying,“Wedon’tneedtoDeepen.That’sonlyanoldsuperstition.It’sastupidsongtheysing,allthisGlory,glory,glory.Wearetheoneswhoareglorious.”
“Thestars—“Megcalleddesperately.“Anothersuperstition.Therearenostars.Wearethegreatestbeingsinthe
universe.”UglinessseepedpastMegandtoSporos.“WhydoyouwanttoDeepen?”Sporos’stwinglingwasslightlydissonant.“FarandolaeareborntoDeepen.”“Fool.OnceyouDeepenandputdownrootsyouwon’tbeabletoromp
aroundasyoudonow.”“But—““You’llbestuckinoneplaceforeverwiththosefuddy-duddyfarae,andyou
won’tbeabletorunormove,everagain.”“But—“ThestrengthandcalmofSenexcutthroughtheugliness.“Itisonlywhenwe
arefullyrootedthatwearereallyabletomove.”IndecisionquiveredthroughoutSporos.Senexcontinued,“Itistrue,smalloffspring.NowthatIamrootedIamno
longerlimitedbymotion.NowImaymoveanywhereintheuniverse.Ising
with’thestars.Idancewiththegalaxies.Ishareinthejoy—andinthegrief.Wefaraemusthaveourpartintherhythmofthemitochondria,orwecannotbe.Ifwecannotbe,thenwearenot.”
“Youmean,youdie?”Megasked.“Isthatwhatyoucallit?Perhaps.Iamnotsure.ButthesongofYadahisno
longerfullandrich.Itisflaccid,itsharmoniesmeager.ByourarrogancewemakeYadahsuffer.”
MegfeltCalvinbesideSenex,urging,“Sporos,youaremypartner.Wearetoworktogether.”
“Why?You’renousetome.”“Sporos,wearepartners,whetherwelikeitornot”Megjoinedin.“Sporos!WeneedyoutohelpsaveCharlesWallace.”“WhydowehavetobotheraboutthisCharlesWallace?He’snothingbuta
stupidhumanchild.”“He’syourgalaxy.Thatoughttomakehimspecialenough,evenforyou.”Acruelslashingcutbetweenthemkything,asthoughagreatbeakhadcuta
jaggedwound.“Sporos!ItisI,Mr.Jenkins.IamtheteacherwhoisgreaterthanallTeachersbecauseIknowtheEchthroi.”
MegfeltProginoskes’skythingclamplikesteel.TheEchthros-Mr.JenkinswasholdingSporos,andspeakingwithhoney-
sweetwords.“Donotlistentotheearthlings;donotlistentothefarae.Theyarestupidandweak.ListentomeandyouwillbepowerfulliketheEchthroi.Youwillruletheuniverse.”
“Sporos!”TherealMr.Jenkins’skythingwasnotstrongenoughtobreakthroughthestream.“HeisnotMr.Jenkins.Donotlisten!”
Calvin’skythecamemorestronglythanMr.Jenkins’s.“TherearetwoMr.Jenkinsesbyyou,Sporos,twoMr.Jenkinseskythingyou.Youknowthatoneisnotreal.Deepen,Sporos,thatiswhereyourrealitylies.Thatishowyouwillfindyourplace,andhowyouwillfindyourtruecenter.”
Meg’smind’s-earswereassailedbyahowlingwhichwasEchthroid,thoughitappearedtocomefromthepseudo-Mr.Jenkins.“Reality
ismeaningless.Nothingisthecenter.Come.Jointheothersintherace.OnlyafewmorefaraetosurroundandyouwillhaveYadahforyourown.”
“Yadahwilldie,”Megcried.“Wewillalldie.Youwilldie!”
“Ifyoucomewithus,youwillbenothing,”theEchthros-Mr.Jenkinsspokeincloyingkythe,“andnothingcanhappentonothing.”
Sporos’slongwhiskerstrembledpainfully.“Iamveryyoung.Ishouldnotbeaskedtomakemajordecisionsforseveralcenturies.”
“You’reoldenoughtolistentoSenex,”Megtoldhim.“You’reoldenoughtolistentome.Afterall,I’magalaxytoyou.It’stimeforyoutoDeepen.”
SporoswriggledintheclaspoftheEchthros-Mr.Jenkins.“Come,Sporos,flywiththeEchthroi.Thenyouwillcrackleacrosstheuniverse.Therearetoomanymitochondriaincreation.Therearetoomanystarsintheheavens.Comewithustonaught,tonought.”
“Deepen,Sporos,mychild,Deepen.”“Sporos!”TheEchthroidhowlbeatagainsttherhythmofYadah.“Wewill
makeyouaprinceamongEchthroi.”Megfeltagustofwind,thefamiliarflickerofflame:Proginoskes.The
cherubimflunghiskythingacrossthevoidoftheEchthros-Mr.Jenkins,likearopeflungfromcliffsedgetocliffsedge.“Sporos,allfarandolaeareroyal.Allsingersofthesongareprinces.”
“Nonsense.InNameonly.”“TheNamematters.”“Onlytomatter.”Proginoskes’skythingwassogentlethatitundercutithestormofEchthroi.
“Youarecreatedmatter,Sporos.Youarepartofthegreatplan,anindispensablepart.Youareneeded,Sporos;youhaveyourownuniqueshareinthefreedomofcreation.”
“Donotlistentothathideouscherubim.He’snothingbutadeformedemanationofenergy.Wewillgiveyounonameandyouwillhavepower.”
Calvinpushedinagain.“Sporos,youaremypartner.Whateverwedo,wemustdoittogether.IfyoujointhewildfarandolaeagainIamcomingintothedancewithyou.”
Sporosquivered,‘Tohelpkillthefarae?”“No.Tobewithyou.”Megcried,“Progo,let’sgo,too!WecanhelpCalvin.”Inherimpetuous
reliefathavingsomethingtodo,shedidnotfeelthecherubimpullingherback,butplungedintotheirrationaltarantellaandwasimmediatelysweptoutofcontrol.CalvinwaswhirlingbesideSporos,unabletopullhimawayfromthe
circleclosinginonthedyingfara.Megwastotallyinthepoweroftherevolving,twanglingfarandolae.The
orbitalvelocitysuckedherin,throughthecircleandagainstthelimptrunkofthefara.
Withinthedeathlycenterofthedanceitwasdark;shecouldnotimagethewhirlingfarandolae;shecouldnotkytheCalvinorSporos.Sheheardonlyasilencewhichwasnotsilencebecausewithinthisvortextherewasanemptinesswhichprecludedthepossibilityofsound.
Caughtinthisanguishedvacuumshewasutterlypowerless.Shewassuckedagainstthetrunkofthefara,butthefarawasnowtooweaktoholdherup;itwasshewhohadtoholdthedyingDeepenedOne,togiveitherownlife’sblood.Shefeltitbeingdrainedfromher.Thefara’strunkstrengthened.ItwasMegwhowasdying.
Thenarmswerearoundher,holdingher,pouringlifebackintoher,Mr.Jenkins’sarms,therealMr.Jenkins.Hisstrengthandlovefilledher.
Asshereturnedtolife,thefirm,rhythmictendrilsoftherevivingfaracaressedher.Mr.Jenkinsheldthemboth,andhispowerdidnotweaken.Themurderouscirclewasbroken.CalvinheldSporosinhisarmsandatearsliddownhischeek.Megturnedtowardshim,tocomforthim.
ThemomentshekythedawayfromMr.JenkinsandtoCalvin,anewcircleformed,notoffarandolae,butofMr.Jenkinses,Mr.JenkinsesswirlingtheirdeathlyringaroundtherealMr.Jenkins.
Megwhirledbacktowardshim,butitwastoolate.Mr.Jenkinswassurrounded.Megcried,“Deepen,Sporos,it’stheonlyhope!”
Thescatteredfarandolaedartedhitherandthitherinconfusion.Proginoskesreachedoutwingafterinvisiblewingtopullthemin.Therewasafrightenedtwingle.
“LookattheEchthroi!”Proginoskescommanded.“TheyarekillingMr.Jenkinsastheymadeyoukillyourownfarae.Look.Thisiswhatitislike.”
“Mr.Jenkins!”Megcalled.“WehavetosaveMr.Jenkins.Oh,Sporos,Deepen,it’sthesecondordeal,youmustDeepen.”
“ForMr.Jenkins?”“Foryourself,forallofus.”“ButwhydidMr.Jenkins—didn’theknowwhatwouldhappentohim?”“Ofcourseheknew.Hedidittosaveus.”
“Tosaveusall,”Calvinadded.“TheEchthroihavehim,Sporos.Theyaregoingtokillhim.Whatareyougoingtodo?”
SporosturnedtowardsSenex,thefarafromwhomhehadbeenborn.Hereachedoutsmallgreentendrilstowardsallthefarandolae.“ItisDeepeningtime,”hesaid.
TheyheardafaintechoofthemusicwhichhadbeensuchjoywhenBlajenytookthemtowitnessthebirthofastar.Thefaraeweresinging,singing,strengthening.Sporoswasjoininginthesong.AllaboutthemfarandolaewereDeepening,andaddingtheirmusictotheflowingofthesong.
Meg’sexhaustionandreliefweresogreatthatsheforgotMr.Jenkins.SheassumedblindlythatnowthatSporosandtheotherfarandolaewereDeepening,nowthatthesecondordealhadbeensuccessfullyaccomplished,allwaswell;theEchthroiwerevanquished;CharlesWallacewouldrecover;shecouldrelax.
ThenshefeltProginoskespushingthroughherthoughtlessness.“Meg!Youforget!Therearethreetests!”
Sheturnedfromrejoicing.Thecircleofpseudo-Mr.Jenkinseswaswhirlingwildlyabouttheprincipal,closinginonhim.
Proginoskeskythedsostronglythatshewaspulledbackintopainfulawareness.“WecannotlettheEchthroigetMr.Jenkins.Thisisthethirdtest,torescueMr.Jenkins.Senex,Sporos,everybody,helpus!”
Megheardashrill,highscream,ascreamthatturnedintoahorriblelaughoftriumph.ItcamefromMr.Jenkins.OneMr.Jenkins.TherewasnolongeraspiralofEchthroidJenkinsessurroundingtheprincipal.Theyhadclosedin,andenteredtheirprey.
Proginoskes’skythingcutlikeaknife.“TheEchthroihavehim.Wemustgethimaway.”
12AWindintheDoor.TheEchthros-Mr.Jenkinsreachedtowardsthem.Thehorrible,familiar
stenchassailedMeg.AloathsomekythingcametoherinMr.Jenkins’stonessuperimposedonthewhineofmetalrubbingagainstmetal.“Nonsense.OfcoursetheEchthroihaven’tgotme.IamMr.Jenkins,andItooktheEchthroiintomebecausetheyareright.ItisnottheEchthroiwhoareempty;itwasI.Theyhavefilledmewiththepleasureoftheabyssofnothingness.ComeletmeXyou,cometome,come..,”
Sporos’slong,tendrillywhiskersquivered.Afainttwinglingcamefromthem,butnowhewaskything,hisyounggreenerymovingrhythmically,hisdelicatenewneedlesandleavesandbladesshimmeringwiththerhythmofSenex,ofthesingingfarae,ofYadah.“Earthlings,forgiveme.Iwillsingforyou.TheEchthroicannotbearthesong.”
Mr.Jenkinskythedlikeacorkscrew.“Lifeaswehaveknownitismeaningless,Margaret.Civilizationhasfailed.Yourparentsknowthis.Theyaregivingup.”
“No,no,”Calvinprotested.“They’renotlikethat,they’dnevergiveup.”“Sing,”SporoscalledtotheDeepeningfarandolae,“singwithus.Ourgalaxy
isindanger;wemustsavehim.”Mr.Jenkinsoverrodehim.“Thereisnohopeexceptextinguishment.Letus
hastenit.”Megcriedthroughtheboringofthecorkscrew.“Mr.Jenkins,no!Stopit!”Calvinjoinedher.“Mr.Jenkins,comeback,comeoutoftheEchthroi!”“Iamback.Iamhere.Iamfinallymyself.Nothing.X-Mr.Jenkins.Tobe
Xedistheonlygood.”AgainMegfeltaBone-shatteringwrench.Everymuscleinhercriedoutin
protest-ThenshewasflashedabrilliantimageofCalvintuggingatMr.Jenkins,powerfulimagesofCalvinwrestlingwithaMr.Jenkinssuddenlywildandstrong.Mr.Jenkins’sthin,flabbyarmsbeatatCalvinwithsteel-springblows.Calvin,withhislithewiriness,eludedmostoftheblows,andtrieddesperatelytocatchMr.Jenkinsbythewrists—
caughthim—Thewristsbecametalons,becamenothing.Calvinwasleftholdingnothing.
MegheardthescreechingEchthroi-laugh,andMr.JenkinshitCalvina
thunderingblow.Megsawred-blackness,Calvinreeling,beingpulled,suckedintothevortex
oftheEchthros-Mr.Jenkins.ThentheimagesofCalvinstaggeringfromtheblow,steadyinghimself,
readyinghimself,vanished.Theimagesweregone,butCalvinwasthere,waswithher,waspartofher.Shehadmovedbeyondknowinghiminsensoryimagestothatplacewhichisbeyondimages.NowshewaskythingCalvin,notredhair,orfreckles,oreagerblueeyes,ortheglowingsmile;norwasshehearingthedeepvoicewiththeoccasionaltreblecracking;notanyofthis,but—
Calvin.ShewaswithCalvin,kythingwitheveryatomofherbeing,returningtohim
allthefortitudeandenduranceandhopewhichhehadgivenher.ThenshefeltProginoskestryingtogetherattentionandturnedherkythe
unwillinglytowardshim.“Meg,IcanhelpCalvin,butIcan’thelpMr.Jenkins.Youmaybeableto.Trytogotohim.Perhapsyoucanstillreachhim.”
Shepulledback.IfshewenttotheEchthroid-Mr.Jenkins,wouldthepainoftheEchthroitakeheragain?therewerenolittlefarandolaetosaveherthistime.Shecouldnotdoit,couldnotknowinglyopenherselftothatpain—
ButMr.Jenkinshadcomeintothewhirlingcircleofdeathforhersake.IfMr.JenkinswaspossessedbyEchthroinowitwasbecauseofhisloveforher.
Shegaveasighofacceptanceofwhatshemustdo.ThensheturnedherkythetowardsMr.JenkinswhowassomewhereinthehorribleEchthroidversionofhimself.
“Mr.Jenkins!”Sheflungherkythetowardshimwithallhermight.Andnowshenolongersawthethinningbrownhair,thesamemouse-brownasherown,orthemiddle-agedeyesbehindthelensesofthehorn-rimmedspectacles,ortheslopingshoulderswiththelightsnowfallofdandruff,butsomethingdeeper,morereal,beyond,past,throughthesenses,somethingwhichwasthetrueperson.ShewaswithMr.JenkinsasshehadbeenwithCalvin,Calvinwhowassoimportanttoherthatshedidn’tdareevenwhispertoherselfhowimportanthewas—
Mr.Jenkins,too,wasreal,andshewaswithhim,kythingherselfentirelytohim—
FromsomewheredeepinsidetheEchthroidversionofhimselfhewastryingtosaysomething,hewasrepeating,repeating,andfinallysheheard,aphrasehe
hadusedearlier,“Natureabhorsavacuum.”Thesinglephrasewasallhecouldmanage.
Sheheldontoit.IftheEchthroiarenothing,andMr.Jenkinsisnowpartofthatnothing,ifCalvinisbeingXedintothatnothing—
“Fillit!Fillit!”cameCalvin’sdesperatekythe.ThroughitcameavividimageofCharlesWallaceblueandgasping,herparentsstandingbyhis“bed;Dr.Louiseworkingtheemergencyoxygentank;Fortinbraslyingacrossthethresholdasthoughtobardeathfromenteringtheroom.“Fillit!”
Shewascoldwithdesperation.“Progo!Progo,whatdoIdo?”SheheardonlyanechoofCalvin’scall.“Fillthevacuum.Fillit.”Hewas
fightingdesperately,notforhisownlifebutforMeg’s,forCharlesWallace’s,forthesingingfarae,forthewholeofbeing...
Shekythedwildly.“Progo,wepassedthefirsttest,INamedMr.Jenkins.Andthesecond—SporoshasDeepened.Arewefailingthethirdtest?Calvincan’tholdoutanylonger.DoIhavetogointotheEchthroi?IsthatwhatIhavetodo?WhatwillyoudoifIfail?”
Sheknew.SheknewwhatProginoskeswoulddo.Calvinwasweakeningrapidly,unabletocounterthe‘sledgehammerblows
oftheEchthros-Mr.Jenkins—SheflungherselfintoMr.Jenkins,tryingtoholdthecruelarms,tryingto
pullhimawayfromCalvinbythesheerforceofherkythe.Thepain.Itcameagain,asshehadknownitwould.Agony.Redanguishpoundingagainsthereyeballs......CharlesWallacewassharinginthatanguish,hisparentshelplessashis
smallbodyconvulsedinspasmsofpain.Theystruggledtoholdhim,theMurrys,theLouises,toholdhimduringtheconvulsions,togivetherackedframesupport...
Fortinbrasstoodinthedoorwaygrowling,hishacklesrising...TheEchthroiwere—Meg’skythewasfaint,almostobliteratedbypain.“Calvin—Mr.Jenkins—
don’tfighttheEchthroi—helpmefillthem—“Cold.Coldbeyondsnowandiceandfallingmercury.
Coldbeyondtheabsolutezeroofouterspace.Coldpulverizingherintonothingness.Coldandpain.Shestruggled.YouarenottoXme,Echthroi.Ifillyou.Cold.Darkness.Emptiness.Nothing.Naught.Nought.EchthXThaiProginoskes.Agreatcry.Atempestofwind.Alightningflashoffireacrossthecold,
breaking,burningthecoldandpain.ProginoskesXing.Wings.Allthewings.Stretchedtotheirfullestspan.Eyes.Alltheeyes
openingandclosing,opening,dimming—Oh,no—Goingout—No-Flame.Smoke.Feathersflying.Proginoskesflinginghisgreatcherubic
selfintothevoidoftheEchthroiwhowereXingMr.JenkinsandCalvinandMeg—
andCharlesWallace.Wingsandflameandwind,agreathowlingofallthehurricanesintheworld
meetingandbattling—“Progo!”HercrykythedacrossYadah,andthensheknewwhatshemustdo.
ShemustdoasMr.Jenkinshaddonewhenhehadbrokenthroughthemadcircleofwhirlingfarandolaeandheldher.ShemustholdtheEchthroi,holdthembyholdingMr.JenkinsandCalvin—byholdingCharlesWallace—
Holdthem,Meg.Holdthemall.Putyourarmsaroundthem,aroundtheEchthroispreadingtheirgaping,tearingnothingnessacrosscreation.
Sizedoesnotmatter.Youcanholdthemall,CharlesandCalvinandMr.Jenkinsandtheburningsphereofthenewbornstar—
Shecriedout,“Iholdyou!Iloveyou,INameyou.INameyou,Echthroi.Youarenotnothing.Youare.”
Asmallwhitefeatherwhichwasnotafeatherfloatedthroughthecold.INameyou,Echthroi.INameyouMeg.INameyouCalvin.INameyouMr.Jenkins.INameyouProginoskes.IfillyouwithNaming.Be!Be,butterflyandbehemoth,begalaxyandgrasshopper,starandsparrow,youmatter,youare,be!Be,caterpillarandcomet,beporcupineandplanet,seasandandsolarsystem,singwithus,dancewithus,rejoicewithus,forthegloryofcreation,seagullsandseraphim,anglewormsandangelhost,chrysanthemumandcherubim(Ocherubim)Be!Singforthegloryofthelivingandthelovingtheflamingofcreation
singwithusdancewithusbewithusBe!Theywerenotherwordsonly.TheywerethewordsofSenex,oftheDeepeningSporos,ofallthesingingfarae,thelaughterofthegreeningfarandolae,Yadahitself,allthemitochondria,allthehumanhosts,theearth,thesun,thedanceofthestarwhosebirthingshehadseen,thegalaxies,thecherubimandseraphim,windandfire,thewordsoftheGlory.Echthroi!YouareNamed!Myarmssurroundyou.Youarenolonger
nothing.Youare.Youarefilled.Youareme.YouareMeg.“Meg!”HerencirclingarmswerearoundCharlesWallace.“Where—“(Wheredoesn’tmatter.)Here.HereinCharlesWallace’sfamiliarroom.Meg.Calvin.Mr.Jenkins.OneMr.
Jenkins.TherealMr.Jenkins.TheMurrys.Dr.Louise,herstethoscopeswinginglooselyaboutherneck,
lookingdisheveled,exhausted,happy...Thetwins,Dennyswithabigsmudgeofgardenearthacrosshisface,both
boysstillgrubbyandtiredfromtheirlabors.AndCharlesWallace.CharlesWallacesittingupinbed,breathingquite
easilyandnormally.Fortinbrasnolongerguardedthedoor,whichnowstood
invitinglyopen.Theoxygentank,nolongerneeded,wasinthecorner.“Charles!Oh,CharlesWallace!”Meghuggedhim,swallowingalargeand
unexpectedsob.“Areyouallright?Areyoureallyallright?”“He’smuchbetter,”Dr.Louisesaid.“Weknowverylittleabout
mitochondritis,but—“Herdelicatelittlebird’svoicefadedoff,andshelookedquestioninglyatMeg.
Sodidherfather.“Whateverhappened—whereveryouwere—CharlesWallacewastalkingaboutmitochondriaandfarandolaeinhisdelirium,andsomethingwhichsoundedlikeEchthroi—“
“Andaboutyou,”hermotheradded.Megexplainedflatly,“WewereinoneofCharlesWallace’smitochondria.”Mr.Murrypushedhisspectaclesuphisnoseinthesamegesturewhichhis
daughterused.“Sohesaid.”Helookedathisyoungestson.“Iamnotinadoubtingmood.”
Mrs.Murrysaid,“Justwhenwethought—whenwethoughtitwasallover—CharlesWallacegasped,TheEchthroiaregone!’andsuddenlyhisbreathingstartedtoimprove.”
“AllIcansay,”Dennyssaid,“isthatwhenCharlesWallacegoesbacktoschool,he’dbetternottalkthewayhewasdoingwhilehewasdelirious.”
“Idon’tunderstandanyofthis,”Sandysaid.“Idon’tlikethingsIdon’tunderstand.”
“IfMotherandFatherhadn’tbeensoupsetaboutCharlesWallace,”DennysglaredatMeg,“they’dhavebeenfuriouswithyoufornotcomingrighthomefromschool.”
“Wherewereyou,anyhow?”Sandyasked.“Doyoureallyexpectustoswallowthisstuffaboutyourbeinginside
CharlesWallace?”“Ifyou’djustberealisticforonce.”“Afterall,wewereworried,too.”“Andthensome.”TheylookedatMeg,thenwheeledandlookedatMr.Jenkins.Mr.Jenkinssaid,“MegisquitecorrectAndIwaswithher.”Thetwinsrepliedwithtotalandstunnedsilence.FinallyDennysshruggedandsaid,“Maybeonedaysomeonewillgetaround
totellinguswhatreallywenton.”“IsupposesinceCharlesisallright—““We’lljustbegladaboutthat.All’swellthatendswellandallthatstuff.”“Evenifeverybody’sholdingoutonusasusual.”TheyturnedtoDr.Louise:“Charlesisreallyokay?”“IsCharlesreallyallright?”Dr.Louiseansweredthem,“It’smyopinionthathe’llbecompletely
recoveredinadayorso.”MegconfrontedMr.Jenkins.“Okay,butwhataboutschool?Won’tthe
troubletheregoonjustasmiserablyasever?”Mr.Jenkinssoundedhismostacid.“Ithinknot.”“Whatwillyoudo,Mr.Jenkins?Canyoumakethingsdifferent?”“Idon’tknow.IcannotdictateCharlesWallace’ssafety.Hemustlearn,
himself,toadapt.ButIhavelessfearofthesituationthanIdidbefore.Afterour—uh—recentexperiences,theoldredschoolhouseisgoingtobeeasiertoentereachmorning.NowIthinkthatIamgoingtofindupgradinganelementaryschoolapleasantchange,andatthemomentitseemsaquitepossiblechallenge.”
Thetwinsagainlookedastonished.Sandyaskedinadeflatedway,“Well,then,isn’tanybodyhungry?”
“WeweresoworriedaboutCharles,wehaven’teatenfor—““I’dlikeaturkeydinner,”CharlesWallacesaid.Mrs.Murrylookedathim,andsomeofthestraineasedfromherface.“I’m
afraidIcan’tmanagethat,butIcanthawsomesteaksfromthefreezer.”“CanIcomedownwhendinnerisready?”Dr.Louiselookedathimwithhersharplyprobinggaze.“Idon’tseewhy
not.Meg,youandCalvinstaywithhimuntilthen.Therestofuswillgotothekitchentobeuseful.Comealong,Mr.Jenkins,youcanhelpmesetthetable.”
Whenthethreeofthemwerealone,CharlesWallacesaidtoCalvin,“Youdidn’tsayaword.”
“Ididn’tneedto.”CalvinsatonthefootofCharlesWallace’sbed.HelookedastiredasDr.Louise,andashappy.HeputonehandlightlyoverMeg’s.“Itwillbegoodtohaveafeasttogether,andcelebrate.”
Megcried,“HowcanwehaveafeastwithoutProgo!”
“Ihaven’tforgottenProgo,Meg.”“Butwhereishe?”“Meg,heXedhimself.”“Butwhereishe?”(Wheredoesn’tmatter.)Calvin’shandpressedmorestronglyagainstMeg’s.“AsProgomightsay,he
isNamed.Andsohe’sallright.TheEchthroididnotgetProgo,Meg.HeXedofhisownvolition,”“But,Calvin—““Proginoskesisacherubim,Meg.Itwashisownchoice.”Meg’seyesweretoobright.“Iwishhumanbeingscouldn’thavefeelings.I
amhavingfeelings.Theyhurt.”CharlesWallacehuggedher.“Ididn’timaginemydragons,didI?”Ashehadintendedherto,shegaveawaterysmile.ImmediatelyafterdinnerDr.LouiseorderedCharlesWallacebacktobed.
Megheldoutherarmstokisshimgoodnight.SheknewthathewasawareofherfeelingofincompletenesswithoutProginoskes,and,ashekissedhercheek,hewhispered,“Whydon’tyouandCalvingoouttothenorthpastureandthebigrocksandlookaround?”
Shenodded,thenglancedatCalvin.Wordlesslytheyslippedouttothepantryandputonskijackets.Whentheyhadleftthehousebehindthem,hesaid,“It’sfunnytotalkinsteadofkything,isn’tit?Isupposewe’dbettergetusedtoit.”
Shewalkedclosebesidehim,acrosstherich,newlyspadedearthofthegarden.“Therearethingswearen’tgoingtobeabletotalkaboutinfrontofpeopleexceptinkything.”
Calvinreachedforoneofhermittenedhands.“Ihaveafeelingwe’renotsupposedtotalkaboutthemtoomuch.”
Megasked,“ButBlajeny—where’sBlajeny?”Calvin’shandheldhersfirmly.“Idon’tknow,Meg.Isuspectthathe’s
whereverhe’sbeensent,Teaching.”Theypausedatthestonewall.“It’sacoldnight,Meg.Idon’tthinkLouisewillcomeout.”Heclimbedthe
wallandmovedswiftlytothetwoglacialrocks.Thegreatstonesloomeddarkly
againstthesky.Thegrassaboutthemwascrunchywithfrost.Andempty.Megsaid,“Let’sgotothestar-watchingrock.”Thestar-watchingrocklaycoldlyunderthebrillianceofthestars.Therewas
nothingthere.AteartrickleddownMeg’scheek,andshewipeditawaywiththebackofonemitten.
Calvinputhisarmaroundher.“Iknow,Meg.Iwanttoknowwhat’shappenedtoProgo,too.AllIknowisthatsomehoworother,he’sallright.”
“IthinkIknowhe’sallright.Butmymindwouldliketobeinontheknowing.”Sheshivered.
“We’dbettergoin.Ipromisedyourparentswewouldn’tstayoutlong.”Shefeltanextraordinaryreluctancetoleave,butsheallowedCalvintolead
heraway.Whentheyreachedthestonewallshestopped.“Waitaminute—““Louiseisn’t—“Calvinstarted,butadarkshadowslidoutofthestones,
uncoiledslowlyandgracefully,andbowedtothem.“Oh,Louise,”Megsaid,“Louise—“ButLouisehaddroppedtothewallagainanddisappearedsomewherewithin
it.NeverthelessMegfeltcomfortedandreassured.Insilencetheyreturnedtothehouse.Inthepantrytheyhungtheirjacketsonthehooks;thedoortothelabwasclosed.Sowasthedoortothekitchen.
Thenthekitchendoorblewopenwithabang.SandyandDennyswereatthediningtable,doinghomework.“Hey,”Sandy
said,“youdon’tneedtobesoviolent.”“Youcouldjustopenthedoor,youdon’thavetotakeitoffitshinges.”“Wedidn’ttouchthedoor,”Megsaid.“Itblewopen.”SandyslammedhisLatintextshut.“That’snonsense.There’shardlyany
windtonight,andwhatthereis,iscomingfromtheoppositedirection.”Dennyslookedupfromhismathpaper.“CharlesWallacewantsyoutocome
upstairstohim,Meg.Shutthedoor,atanyrate.It’scold.”Sandygotupandshutthedoorfirmly.“Youweregonelongenough.”“Didyoucountthestarsorsomething?”“Wedon’thavetocountthem,”Megsaid.“Theyjustneedtobeknownby
Name.”Calvin’seyesmethersforalongmomentandheldhergaze,notspeaking,
notkything,simplybeing.
ThenshewentuptoCharlesWallace.