She sat up on the couch, rubbing her eyes. "When did you see Sam?"

"About a minute ago, in Montreal."

"Neat trick, since you're in front of me at this moment. I won't pursue how you managed that."

"That would be best. You will understand soon enough."

"A time warp?"

"There is no time in my world. A year is the blink of an eye. Drop it, Janey."

"All right." She stared hard at the misty face of the only man she had ever loved. "Tell me this: how did our son look?"

"Considering the circ.u.mstances, well ... and confused, upset." The misty face smiled, then projected, "bewitched, bothered, and bewildered."

"Oh, Sam!"

"Now you see why He is constantly calling me on the carpet ... so to speak. Our son is falling deeply in love."

Jane Ann smiled. "How wonderful."

"With his half sister."

"You were a rounder before you came to Whitfield, weren't you?"

"Yes, but ... well, I'll explain at a later date."

"I'm not sure I want to hear about it."

"As you wish. But don't jump to conclusions."

She glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. "Tony might be back for lunch any moment."

"Tony will never again set foot in this house, Jane Ann. Not for any decent purposes, that is."

"I don't understand."

"You will."

"Miles?" Doris called down the bas.e.m.e.nt steps. "What are you doing?"

"I keep telling you and telling you: I am building a golem. So stay out of here. No telling what this thing might get in its head to do."

"How can a thing with clay for brains get something into its head?"

"I don't care to argue with you." A moment of heavy silence. Miles looked up. She was still standing in the doorway.

"I believe you, Miles," she said quietly.

"Oh?" his voice drifted up, full of disbelief. "So what changed your mind?"

"You remember me saying you were as crazy as a vontz vontz-after you told me about speaking with Sam Balon?"

"How could I forget being called a bedbug? So?"

"He's ... it's in the kitchen, now!"

"So ask him to take a seat. I'll be right up."

"Wade? I cannot believe you are seriously considering taking part in this insanity!"

"Honey, you didn't see Sam last night, either."

"Well, honey," she mimicked him, "neither did you. I warned you about that second piece of pie."

"Babe," he was very patient with her, "we've been through a lot together. I've tried to bring you along easy this time. But time is up. Look around you, honey-look at the houses we're pa.s.sing, the people sitting on the porches. Any of them waving at us? Any of them calling for us to stop, have a cup of coffee, like they used to do?"

She looked straight ahead, refusing to speak.

"He's here, Anita. He's back. The Dark One. Sam says this time Whitfield is through. He ..."

"If your friend, the spirit man, is so all-fired blessed, why doesn't he just wave his hand and make all this ..." Tears sprang into her eyes. "... hatefulness go away?"

"Did you pack like I asked you?"

She sighed. "Yes, Wade. I'll humor you until we can get you to a mental hospital."

"Anita, old gal," he spoke softly. "My wife of so many very good years, listen to me. We're not going to make it out of this. We're going to die, and Sam says the only thing he can do is make it as easy for us as possible."

"How considerate of him."

Wade turned into the drive, parking by the corner street lamp. "We're here, honey."

"Oh, goody!" she clapped her hands. "Do I get to see the monster man and and Sam Balon? A double treat? Oooh, I can hardly wait. This is better than the county fair." Sam Balon? A double treat? Oooh, I can hardly wait. This is better than the county fair."

Wade held her hand as they walked up the sidewalk and up the steps to the porch. Doris opened the door.

"Thank G.o.d!" Anita cried. "A face I know is normal and a mouth that is not raving about things that go b.u.mp in the night."

"I'll get the luggage out of the car," Wade said.

Anita stepped into the house and stopped dead still in the living room. A huge gray object, in the shape of a man, a giant man, stood against the wall across the room. It was at least eight and a half feet tall. It was faceless.

She turned to ask Doris what that thing was, was this some kind of a joke and what's the occasion for a party? She dropped her purse on the carpet as her eyes found the mist hovering just above the carpet by a chair.

"I believe you know Reverend Sam Balon," Doris said.

Anita fainted.

They had gone to a hardware store and bought several containers, then went to half a dozen Catholic churches seeking holy water. The priests, once they saw the young couple was sincere, asked no questions but merely gave them as much holy water as they wished.

"I just don't know ... if my mind can ... accept all that's been thrown at me this day," Nydia said. "But a lot of things are beginning to fall into place."

"Explain that?" Sam asked. They were halfway back to the Williams' mansion, eating a mid-afternoon lunch by the side of the road. The lunch they were supposed to have eaten while exploring the woods.

"Well ... this is only a small part of it, Sam, but have you ever been in a home that didn't have some religious paraphernalia ... somewhere? A painting, a cross, a Bible ... something? I haven't. Our house is bare of anything religious. But ... that could be explained away by the fact that Roma and Falcon don't go to church. But I know what an upside down cross means, and both Roma and Falcon have those in their rooms. Roma, Falcon, and Black always go somewhere on Friday nights-they stay all night-always returning just before dawn. And they all wear the same kind of medallion."

"I'm surprised they haven't tried to make you wear one."

"Oh, they have, dozens of times, beginning when I was just a small child. But it always irritated my neck; caused great ugly rashes; made me sick, very sick. The last time, just a couple of years ago, Roma threw the medallion away. It was gold, Sam! Worth hundreds of dollars, and she just tossed it into the garbage. She flew into a screaming rage and kept saying: 'd.a.m.n that son of a b.i.t.c.h! Black Wilder, you knew this was going to happen. And d.a.m.n that b.a.s.t.a.r.d preacher.' I didn't know what she was talking about, Sam. Raving was more like it. And I didn't ask."

"Dad wrote about Black Wilder. The Devil's representative. The preacher must have been Dad."

She covered his hand with hers. "Sam? For years they've kept it from me-or tried to-but they practice evil. I can't prove it, for they're very careful. But I know they do. That house is evil. The people who work for them are evil. And Jimmy Perkins ... the way he looks at me. Something about him frightens me."

"I wish I could recall where I've heard that name."

They looked up as a huge Sikorsky helicopter flapped and roared overhead. The helicopter, capable of carrying sixteen pa.s.sengers, was soon out of sight.

"Heading for the house," Nydia said glumly. "Poor Lana and the others. They don't have any idea what they're getting into."

"Lana?"

"Lana McBay. Small, blond, and very pretty. Doesn't date much. Word is . . . around the school ... she's a virgin." Nydia paused for a moment, a reflective look on her face. "Come to think of it, the word is that several of those girls Black mentioned are supposed to be virgins. Linda, for sure, so the talk goes. But ... I don't much like her."

"Why?"

Her reply was a noncommittal shrug.

"Does Falcon like his women young?"

"Oh, yes," she quickly replied. "For a fact. I've seen him looking at me in a way that makes me very uncomfortable. Just like Jimmy."

"Have either of them ever tried anything with you?"

"Oh, no. Never."

"Tell me about Falcon. You know he isn't your real father. Has he been around long?"

"For as long as I can remember. There isn't much else to tell. I ... really don't know where they get their money-either of them. I was told they both owned interests in a number of factories and businesses, and that this is where they got their money. I do know mother owns a company that makes wine and perfume, another company that makes clothing for women. I've seen those businesses."

"Tell me about the people who run them. Those you had a chance to meet."

She was again reflective for a moment. "Yes, I see what you mean. They . . . seemed to be afraid of Roma, but yet ... The sentence trailed into silence. "... The medallions. The top people all wore medallions, like mother and Falcon and Black."

"And the one your mother tried to make you wear?"

"Just like it."

"And did they ever meet on a Friday. Friday seems to hold some special significance."

"Yes. Several times. And it was just like I told you before: they would all disappear about dark and not return until almost dawn. Mother said it was business, and not to worry. I always had someone staying with me, a sitter or companion. Sam? I'm frightened. I don't want to go back to that house."

"We have to go back, Nydia. I don't believe we could do anything else."

"Sam, let's try. Let's see if we can just run away-go back to New York State. Please? Let's try."

Sam hesitated, not wanting to risk angering his father-if any of this was real, and not a dream. He wavered, sensing that Nydia's fear was very close to overwhelming her.

"We'll try," he said.

But the four-wheel would not start. Sam complained of his chest burning, and the cross around Nydia's neck had begun to glow.

"All right, Dad," Sam said. "We get the message."

The four-wheel started; the burning and the glowing ceased.

"All that could have been a fluke," Nydia suggested.

Sam turned around, heading back to Montreal. The four-wheel died in the middle of the road. The burning and the glowing began again.

Nydia said, "All right, Mr. Balon-no more. We'll go back."

The four-wheel started; the glowing and the burning faded.

"Any doubts now?" Sam asked.

She shook her head. "But where do we start, Sam?"

"At Falcon House."

FIVE.

"What do we do?" Anita asked. She had recovered from her shocked state and sat sipping tea, her gaze alternating between the mute huge, motionless clay man and the mist that was Balon.

"Wait," Balon projected. "None of you can start it. The golem will not kill without some overt provocation toward one of you."

"What ... can that thing do?" Wade asked.

"It has the strength of twenty men. It cannot be stopped by anything mortal. A golem is all things of earth. But none of you need concern yourself with the mysteries of the cosmos. The golem will have no will other than what I give it."

Outside, although the day was bright and clear and warm, thunder rattled the windows of the house.