campfires.
"Well, this is where I saw it, OK," Bobby said. "Yeah." John straightened up, broke his gun, and
unloaded. The others unloaded with him and felt a trifle more naked in the woods, even though
they were quite certain they were alone.
"Who do you think it is?"
"Like Bobby said, some Picker." "But why's he here?"
146
"Drunk, hiding out, fired from the job-how
should I know?"
"He was hungry," Bobby said. "How do you know?"
"The stuff he bought, stew, spaghetti, beer. It fills you up." He kicked over a can. "Nothing
left in it, like he used his fingers to get it all." (As an old icing bowl cleaner, Bobby knew his
fellows.)
"If he's hungry, he's looking around." Paul twitched.
Both John and Bobby looked at him somewhat in surprise. Paul was growing smarter. He
might be right.
"And if he keeps looking around, he might find
us."
uYeah."
"Well, there's nothing more here," John said.
"Don't mess anything up."
"Why not?" Paul said. "Then he'll know someone bas found out about him."
"No. Then he'll move somewhere else," Bobby
said fast.
"Sure, he'll go away!" Paul writhed. "Or he'll come up to the house."
"Let's talk about it with Dianne," John said, and they turned back.
Dianne, when she heard about it, narrowed her gray eyes down and said nothing for a
minute. In the last five days-counting the Sunday when they had planned Barbara's
capture-she had lost a lot of her diffidence and become more assertive in making the plans
for all of them and seeing that they were carried out. Her province had expanded until the
Adams' now seemed her house (Cindy was miffed). All of them, even John, asked her even
by just a lift of the eyebrow for approval before making a serious move, and so they waited
now.
"What're we going to do if he comes up and asks for food like Bobby said, and then he finds
out that there aren't any grown-ups here?"
147
"He hasn't, has he?"
"He hasn't been around long .... " "No, but what if he does?"
"Then let me talk to him, and the rest of you hang around. We'll say that Mother's in town,
Daddy's at work, and besides we have somebody to do the fieldwork. Keep one gun up here on
this floor, and somebody like John or Bobby to shoot it, and we'll just see." Dianne reached her
decision with decision. "Don't worry about it."
"And what if we have to shoot him?" Cindy said brightly.
"Then we'll shoot him," Dianne said.
Freedom Five considered. What she was talking about was killing an adult, not a very important
one perhaps (adults varied) but still doing it. The idea was not in any way unacceptable except
that other grownups would find out about it and punish them for it.
"Won't that blow everything?" Bobby said quietly. "Not if we do it my way."
They nodded. Nonetheless the day had begun on a somber note.
The next problem of the day-it became a crisis-arose with Barbara. Because of the Picker, the
children were late in shifting her from bed to walking and taking her to the bathroom:
nonetheless she went docilely enough and performed her usual ceremony (ever more brief as
she ate less) with such grace as was possible. Only she and Dianne knew exactly what hap-
pened next.
While Barbara was washing one-handed, she dropped her washcloth on the floor and being
tied, couldn't seem to bend over properly and pick it up again. Dianne went-, in, bent to get it,
and Barbara grabbed her. Strong, elastic swimmer's fingers dug into Dianne's neat hair and
seized a handful at the roots. Though only Barbara's right hand was free and then only from
the elbow down, all her strength was concentrated there, and it was clear to her and to Dianne
that
148
she was never going to let go. The hair strained at the roots with the force of the grip.
Moreover, Barbara threw her hip and cracked Dianne's head against the side of the sink for
emphasis. Then it was all confused.
Dianne yelled, of course. The sound was one of surprise, sudden pain, and anger but-it was still
cool Dianne-not quite panic. Her own hands shot above her head and engaged Barbara. Then
she was hipped against the sink again, and her eyes momentarily lost clear focus.
The rest of Freedom Five came banging into the bathroom, wide-eyed and thoughtless, and
there was instant battle. Barbara seemed determined to never, never let go, and even
hobbled, resisted their tries at getting her fingers loose. Dianne hurt, and she continually made
just exactly that noise as she tried to get up from her knees where Barbara had her forced. In
the tumble of bodies, naked and clothed, nothing was clear except the central issue of
Barbara-must-let-go-or-Dianne-will-be hurt, versus Barbara-must-hold-on-and-hurt-Dianne.
They swayed and twisted; Paul was pushed across the edge of the empty bathtub and fell in it;
Cindy fled; Bobby got his hands tangled up with Dianne's and Barbara's. Only John could solve
it and only his way.
He doubled his fist and, in contradiction to all his upbringing, hit Barbara on the face. His blow
aimed at the chin went high and 'struck her just in front of the ear, but it was delivered with
such sincerity that she, in tum, lost focus, and her hand in response released Dianne and tried
to reach up to the hurt, and then John hit her again. There was no one to catch her. Hobbled,
she could not step back and so fell against the wall and slid down sideward, spinning the roll of
toilet paper out in a stream as she did so. Then everything was changed again.
In the succeeding tableau-it was a half second later-Dianne was sitting, crying, on the tile floor,
her head in her hands, face out of sight. Barbara, bound as ever, lay twisted and half out of
sight behind the toilet, and John, now the frantic one, was grotesquely trying
149
to get at her and rip the tape from her mouth. She mustn't cry or she might suffocate
behind her gag. Finally everything subsided.
Dianne, crying, got slowly up and stumbled blindly from the bathroom, down the hall, into
the living room, and threw herself onto the couch, still cradling her face in her hands. For
some time she remained there, her tears gradually slowing, her control returning. In the
bathroom itself, Barbara lay in a fettered S on the floor, her face white, her cheek against
the cold tiles. Paul followed Dianne and stood over her in helpless spasm; Cindy stood
timidly behind him while John and Bobby watched over the prisoner. More minutes passed.
When Barbara's eyes showed clear and intelligent again, John and Bobby dragged her feet
first, breasts down against the floor, to a space where they could get at her. Rolling her
over, they took the free hand and tied it back to the other_ behind her. She said things like
"Don't-" and "Please- " and "It hurts-" and all they got out of it was that she was OK now.