I didn't dare stay out too long, because I knew that Honoria, or Mom, or most likely both of them, would come looking for me. As it was, they were both sitting on the front porch when I returned. I couldn't look at those sad, concerned faces. I just trudged up the stairs and walked past them, into the house.

Behind me, I heard my Mom start crying, and Honoria murmuring to her quietly. "It's all right, dear. I've cuh-called for help."

I burst back out onto the porch, the screen door banging against the wall with the force of my shove. Both of the women gasped, shocked. "What did you do?" I had thought I was going to shout. I was surprised when it came out low, almost pleading.

Honoria was white faced, but she looked me in the eye. "It was for your own guh-good, Walter. You need help."

"Who did you call, Honoria? Some doctor? It won't do any good. I'm not going to talk to him, either."

"There has tuh-to be someone who can get through to you, Walter. I'm not guh-going to stop until I find them."

"Please, son." It broke my heart to hear the tears in my mother's voice. "I can see that you're hurting, and I don't know what to do to make you feel better."

"Has it occurred to either of you that sometimes... sometimes things can't be made better? Sometimes they just have to be endured? I'm trying to do that. Please, I don't need someone else poking at my wounds right now. Honoria, whoever it is, call them and tell them not to come."

"I cuh-can't d-do that, Walter. In any cuh-c-case, I'm pretty sure it would be too late."

"I won't talk to them."

"That's your duh-decision. But you must be the one to send them away. I wuh-won't, and I wuh-won't let your mother."

I went back into the house. As I stomped down the hall toward the stairs, I heard Honoria again. "He duh-doesn't mean it, dear. That isn't ruh-really Walter talking, it's whatever is eating at him."

I wanted to go out and hug Mom, apologize and tell her everything would be all right. But I've never been good at lying to her.

I couldn't sleep, of course. At least that night I had something to puzzle over. Who had Honoria called? Charles, I knew. She'd admitted that much to me. Who else was there? Colonel Potter? Why? He didn't know what happened, not really. And there wasn't anything he could do, way over there in Korea. Anyone else involved in what had happened was still overseas. I spent the night sitting propped against my headboard, with the lamp on my desk on. I didn't want the dark, not even in the familiar comfort of my own room.

At breakfast, I forced myself to drink some milk, but I just looked at the rest of the food that Honoria had prepared, then went out to sit on the porch. I didn't have the energy to do much of anything else. At least they left me alone that morning.

It was getting on for noon when, out in the distance, I saw a car turn off the main road. There was just two places on this dirt road, and it went past the turn off for the Hooker farm. That meant it was coming here. I gripped the arms of the rocking chair and watched it draw closer.

That would be whoever Honoria had called. I decided it would be only polite to let them get out of the car and stretch their legs for a little, maybe have a cup of coffee before turning around and leaving again.

I was a little surprised to recognize old man Tupper's truck. He was sort of the unofficial taxi in the area, since we didn't have a regular service. He pulled up into the yard, and I stood up, coming down the porch steps. The sun was behind me, glaring on the windshield, and I couldn't see who was in the cab. The passenger door opened, and a tall, straight figure stepped out and stood there a moment, looking toward me before shutting the door.

I was suddenly dizzy, and my stomach dropped, just like when you go over the top of the highest rise on a roller coaster and start toward the bottom. All at once everything seemed to be rushing up at me, just that fast.

I had time to say,"Ray?" before I hit the ground.

I came to with my head in someone’s lap. I knew it wasn’t Mom. Number one, there were pants instead of an apron. Number two, Mom never had thighs that firm, not even when she was a teenager.

I didn’t want to open my eyes, because I figured this had to be a dream, and I wasn’t ready to wake up. But something cool and wet was patting me on the face, and I finally gave in. At first I couldn’t see the face of the person holding me too clearly. Sun still in my eyes, ya know. Then he bent down, hiding the sun behind his head, and taking up my whole field of vision. And it seemed so normal, so right. All I could see was Ray, and that was how it should be.

His eyes were worried, but he smiled at me. “You back with us, Sleeping Beauty?” He folded the wet cloth he’d been using to pat my face, and laid it across my forehead.

“More like one of the seven dwarves,” I muttered sheepishly. “Hi, Ray.”

“Hi, yourself. Yeah, from what Honoria told me over the phone, Grumpy might be an appropriate name.”

Honoria knelt down beside us, and offered a glass of water to Ray. “Here.” As Ray put an arm under my back and lifted me into a sitting position, putting the glass to my lips, she said, “Charles said you had mentioned Ruh-Ray, Walter. He said you wuh-were guh-good friends. I duh-didn’t know who else to tuh-try.”

“You did right, Honoria, and I thank you.” Ray wouldn’t take the glass away till I’d drunk half the water, then he handed it back to Honoria.

“You’re not gonna burp me, are ya?”

He smiled, but his eyes were still serious. “No, baby boy. But I might spank you if you keep acting foolish. Can you stand up if I help you?”

“Sure. I’m all right.”

His arm tightened around me. “No, you’re not, Walter. But you’re going to be.” Ray helped me up. I tried not to cling to him too obviously, because Honoria was right there, and my Mom was up on the porch, watching. But it was hard. All I wanted to do was climb into his arms and let him hold me.

We got to the porch, and Mom took my other arm. Between them, they got me up the steps. At the top, Ray maneuvered me into a chair, then offered his hand to Mom. “Mrs. O’Reilly. I’ve heard a lot about you. I almost feel as if I know you.”

Mom ignored his hand, giving him a hug. “Thank God you came, Ray. I don’t know what to do with him. He’s hurting so much.” She felt as if she knew Ray as well. I’d never told her how intimate our relationship was, but from my constant mention of him in my letters home, she knew he was special to me.

Ray patted her, then pushed he away a little. “I’m going to take him up to his bed. Why don’t you see if you can scrounge up some soup and strong tea for him? I think he’ll be able to keep those down.”

That was the way to handle Mom. Give her something to do, caring for someone else, and she forgot about herself. She almost trotted to the kitchen. Ray called, “Honoria, he’s upstairs? You’d better help me. I don’t want to risk dropping him.”

As we started up the stairs, one on each side of me, I protested, “I told you, I can walk.”

“And we had a lovely demonstration outside of how steady you are on your feet. Shut up, baby boy, and let me take care of you.” Up in my room, Ray said, “You better go now, Honoria. I’m not putting him to bed fully dressed, and from what I hear of your brother, he might challenge me to a duel for exposing you to an unclothed male form.” She laughed, and went out.

When she was gone, Ray turned back to me. Before I could say anything, he pulled me into his arms for a full embrace, bent down, and kissed me. This time there was no passion in the kiss. It was gentle and questioning. When our lips parted, I put my head down on his chest and cried.

We moved at some point. I found myself sitting with him on the bed. We had our arms around each other, and I was soaking his shirt. I could hardly talk through the hitching, but I tried to apologize for my soppiness. He just rocked me and whispered, “No. This is good, Walter. Tears heal. You haven’t cried before, have you?” I shook my head, scrubbing my face against him. I hadn’t, not since Flagg had finished with me. The tears had just sort of dried up.

When I was cried out, reduced to sniffles and hiccups, he undressed me and put me in the bed. My Mom came in with a tray just as he was pulling the sheet up. She set it on my dresser, looking at me anxiously. “How is he?”

“Mom, I’m right here, and I’m not unconscious, okay? Geez, I’m not five years old anymore, either.”

“Walter, be nice.” Ray said sternly.

I winced. “Sorry, Ma.”

She came over and kissed my forehead. “It’s all right, baby. You think a mother doesn’t know her child gets snappish when he’s not well? You just talk to Ray, and do whatever he says. For me?”

“I’ll try, Ma.”

She kissed me again, and Ray walked her to the hall door. “I’m going to try to get him to sleep, Mrs. O’Reilly.”

“I’d like to have a talk with you, when you do.”

“I’d rather not leave him right now.”

“I’ll bring up a chair, and we can sit in the hall with the door open.”

“That would be fine.” I saw him put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to take care of him for you.”

Her shoulders slumped tiredly, and for the first time I realized that Mom wasn’t a young woman anymore. “Thank you.”

She left, and Ray shut the door quietly. He came back over and got the tray. “Sit up, kiddo.” I propped myself up with my pillow, and he unfolded the tray legs and set it across my lap. “Eat that. All of it.”

I picked up the spoon, then set it down again, feeling queasy. “I don’t think I can.”

“One of the reasons you’re feeling nauseous is that your belly is no longer used to having food in it. Eat some slowly, and give it a chance to readjust.” When I hesitated he said quietly, “Walter, I will take that spoon away from you and feed you if you don’t.”

I muttered something about bossy people trying to run a person’s life, and took a few sips of the soup. It was Mom’s cream of tomato, and all of a sudden I was hungry. It wasn’t a chore to finish it. I even broke manners and tilted the bowl to get the last spoonful.

“And the tea,” Ray ordered. “Drink up. Millions and millions of Chinamen can’t be wrong.”

For a moment, he went a little odd. When he said that, a puzzled look flitted over his face, like he was trying to remember something that was hovering in the dark corners of his mind. Then he shook his head, and it was gone. I was too pre-occupied with my own troubles to notice it much then, but it would come back to haunt me later.