In the long, dark gallery Steve was leaning on the telephone table. He was laughing like a crazy man, the kind of crazy you find behind tall white walls. A rectangle of moonlight was glowing by his foot. He raised his hands to his face but he couldn't get a hold of himself.

He had called Stuart's residence and had find out that Jim is sleeping over at Alex's house, and apparently Alex's mom thinks Alex is sleeping over at Jim's. He burst in laughter again.

In the dark end ofthe gallery a doorknob twisted. The sound touched the air and died.

Air stirred as the door opened.

"Everything all right?" A voice came floating out of the darkness. It was Tom's voice. Steve's stepfather Tom.

Steve's laughter died instantly.

Tom stepped out of the door, and started walking down the gallery. He was a big, muscular man.

"What's so funny?" he said.

No reply from Steve.

Steve looked to his left and right as if he hadn't heard him.

Tom waited a moment, then said, "So champ, how you doing?"

Steve didn't reply again. Tom felt that dry feeling climbing on him like a sheet, but he ignored it and moved on. He leaned on the desk next to Steve and said, "You want to watch a movie? I've got loads--"

"NO," Steve said clearly.

"What d'you wanna do then?"

"I don't know."

"C'mon let's do something fun," Tom requested.

"Can't you just... just...okay?" Steve started to get up. He didn't like Tom. He hated him. Him and his manly body, and his all good and nice nature. What does this guy thinks, huh? That with all these things and qualities he can just prove or show that he's better than his dad was? That's what he's trying to do, right?

Oh, how Steve hated him for even thinking that he can ever replace his dad.

Tom grabbed Steve's shoulder and came in front of him. "How about tomorrow?" He said.

Steve spoke nothing. He kept looking down, just wanting to get away. Spikes of anger have started to rise in him.

"Hey, you're not getting rid of me this time. I want to spend time with you, Stevie. You're a great kid—I like you; I want to know you. I really do."

Steve started to walk away.

"Don't make me make you," Tom said and Steve halted.

"No, you can't," Steve muttered, but he was well aware of what Tom can do.

"I don't want to; I just want to spend good time with you. And you know it hurts your ma when you say things like you did at dinner."

"IS THIS WHAT THIS IS?" Steve snapped. "YOU HERE TO MAKE ME FEEL SORRY?"

"No."

"THEN WHAT D'YOU WANT?"

"I just--"

"OH, YEAH, SURE, YOU WANNA DO SOMETHING? TELL ME ABOUT THOSE KIDS THEY FOUND THIS FUCKING MORNING!?"

There was absolute silence in the gallery. The walls stood firm. The air remained unstirred. The moonlight glowed quietly. Seconds slipped by, unnoticed, then Tom said, "What do you wanna know about them?"

Steve jumped a little. He didn't know but he had gasped. The only that was supposed to happen was the end of this conversation. There was no other way around.

Tom had said it so casually that Steve thought he had imagined it.

"What—hah—What d'you know about it?" Steve managed.

"Everything." Tom's face was firm-the expression of a man who speaks his mind.

"Okay. Okay. Who—who did it?" When these words sounded out of Steve's mouth, his head was cold by the weight of the thought: What if he knows?

He had asked it because he knew that nobody knows, but Tom's confidence made him question his own knowledge, and consider the slim possibility that it just might be possible that Tom really knows.

"You're a big kid, and since you already know it happened, I think there's no harm in telling you... the way they've been—how they've been—uhm, it was done with an axe. Now since all of them live near the forest and we had to have suspects to prevent panic, we have arrested all the Woodcutters. Had to start somewhere. None of them have confessed anything, yet. I mean anything. Their mouths are zipped shut. Not a single word from any of them. Now it seems like a mass act. It's outrageous. But don't you worry we are digging."

Steve faltered. His breath hissed. And the shock ran on his body like a shudder. Tom's eyes widened as he felt the kid's terror. He thought about how huge a mistake he just made. Big or small, Steve was still a kid.

For a moment Tom felt as if he has committed a crime. His throat was dry and he felt breathless. The way the boy's body contracted, oh that sight wrenched his heart.

"Wow," Steve whispered under his breath.

What's done is done, it can't be changed. Under the dome of regret all Tom could think of was to leave.

When Tom was midway in the gallery, he heard Steve say, "Hey."

Now Steve couldn't hold it anymore. It was coming out. The question that has been eating him since morning was coming out of his mouth, and he knew it.

In his right mind Tom would've been the last person Steve would've asked this, but right now he was far from his right mind. Right now, he was scared. And fear makes us do things.

Tom turned around. His shoulders rotated. Something in the air changed.

Steve said "Do you find something—"

Suddenly a big photo frame hanging right in front of Steve fell down, it struck the floor edge-first and jumped. The glass flew out from it and fell in the rectangle of moonlight by Steve's foot. Pieces of glass flew everywhere.

Steve gasped from his mouth so fast and so hard that his nose made a sound. The air turned to ice in Steve's chest. His eyes snapped open like window-panes. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. It can't be, but it's there. No, it's just his imagination, but it's there. It's impossible, but it's there. No, this isn't—but it's there. It's there. It's still there. It is still it. It is still there. But no, it can't be. His mind rejected it, but his eyes saw it again. His mind rejected it again, but his eyes saw it again.

In the middle of the rectangle-of-moonlight, a rhombus shaped piece of glass was lying, and moonlight was gleaming on it. The holes and cracks on the gleaming glass formed the word: DON'T.

Steve's mind was finding ways to unsee it, finding ways to prove to himself that he has mistaken, that it was just the trick of the light. BUT IT WAS THERE.

Tom came and swept the glass to one side. Steve turned and left. Tom looked back at him going, but said nothing.

Tom picked up the photo frame and shook pieces of glass out of it. In the moonlight, he saw the face of Steve's Grandma smiling in the photo frame. It was a photo of her youth, looking at that photo, Tom felt sad. The sad realization of mortality brushed over him.

Steve trudged up the stairs. He crossed the corridor and stood in front of his room's door. Then he squeezed the doorknob and pushed the door open. The lights were off in his room, but there was a glow of light there because of the squares of moonlight falling through the window.

He leaned on the desk by the door and pushed his hands in his face. The silence of the room broke when he started laughing. He was laughing hard; he couldn't help it. it was just his imagination. Now that it was behind him, he could see how unreal it was. It was all in his head. He had imagined it, that was all. What a fool was he to think—

"Everything all right?" A voice came floating in the air. Steve's laughter died abruptly and his face became expressionless. He knew the voice, but...no.

Strength ran out of his legs. His body felt as light as a feather, his head felt as cold as ice.

A terrible realization swept over him, but his mind instantly rejected it. It's not possible. It just isn't.

But it's all right. It was just a thought. Just a thought from his memory. It's just in his head.

"What's so funny?" Tom said, and Steve heard it. He heard it, coming from the air. This was happening. No...NO...NO!NO!NO!... Steve looked to his left and right. The rectangle of moonlight was by his foot, the door of his house was on his left, the long, dark gallery was on his right. He wanted to scream but his throat was frozen tight like ice.

"So champ, How you doing?" Tom said.

Blood pounded in Steve's ears. This can't be happening, he told himself. But he was here. He was seeing it. He was hearing it. He was feeling it.

Tom said, "You want to watch a movie? I've got loads--"

"NO," the word clanging in Steve's mind, escaped from his throat. He was startled by his own voice. The hair on his nape were standing like spikes. His arms had broken into gooseflesh.

In his whole life he has never been so aware of everything. The back of his shoulders felt numb as if he's dreaming, but he could feel the pressure of the floor against his bare feet, he could feel the edge of the telephone table digging in his butt.

"What do you wanna do then?" Tom said.

"I don't know?" Steve said as if he's in a play, and this is the line he supposed to say. But no, this is no play or act. This is happening, this is real. It's just that reality didn't feel real anymore, but however it felt it didn't matter because it was real. He knew it.

"C'mon, let's do something fun," Tom said.

Steve looked up at Tom with an expression that was almost like anger. It startled Tom. But it wasn't anger, it was just deep concentration. Then he turned his face to Grandma's photo frame, and he just knew it. It was just a feeling, something nobody but him could understand.

He looked back at Tom, and now he was going to ask him what he earlier couldn't (if there was an earlier). But when his mouth opened to speak, when the words were about to sound out of his mouth, he felt how terrifically wrong it was to ask him. The thought, the uncertainty of what it would lead to never occurred to him before. But the moment it did was like the one where the archer's bow is stretched and the decision to shoot the arrow has been made.

"Do you find something weird in this town?" It slipped out of his mouth as elegantly as an arrow pierces through the wind. But this wasn't what he intended to ask him, he wanted to ask about all the deaths that have happened lately. He didn't know how this question slipped from his mouth.

"Well, there are a few things, if you want to," Tom said without missing a beat.

Steve nodded. He still wanted to hear what Tom had to say.

"Well, when I first came to this town," Tom began, "I found this place a little weird. I mean, I have been to many places, I've seen the world, but I had never seen a place like Mellowville. The farms and fields were flourishing, the houses were bright and colorful, people were happy and peaceful. I didn't saw any barren lands, rotting fields, dirty streets, or hateful people. Heck, I haven't yet seen a beggar here. Everyone here seemed nice and satisfied with their lives. It reflected on their faces; you know.

"Oh, and the rich people. I have never seen so many rich people in a single town. Almost everybody here is rich. And on top of that they are all friendly... like they're all a big family. I, myself, have always thought and seen that the wealthy can't stand anyone wealthier, but here it wasn't so.

"When I saw this place I decided to stay, but it wouldn't have been possible it wasn't for your Grandmother. I still don't know why she helped me.

"As I started living here, I felt...normal. I could see that this wasn't strange, it was normal. I could see that this wasn't strange, it was normal. You see, this world is a big place. There are all different kinds of things here. If there are some places that are bad, then there are some places that are good too, like this town. When you see a lot of places you think you've seen everything, and then something new comes along and you just couldn't believe it. That's just how it is. You never know all that's out there."

It all seemed pretty normal to Steve. He couldn't see how Tom ever found any of this weird. Still, it was no big deal.

"Do you find...anything weird in the things that've been happening lately?" Steve said.

Tom considered the question for a moment. Steve's heart was racing. He was feeling as if he's done something wrong.

"Weird? Well, it is no normal I tell you. But weird...I don't think so. But hey! I know what you're thinking. I was the same way, you know. Connecting dots to a bigger picture...The mysterious universe--Wait!" Tom's expression suddenly changed to a grim look. "You aren't hanging around that Johnson fellow, are you?"

Steve's clueless face answered to Tom, and he continued. "You stay away from him. That man's lost his marbles. The whole street was collected around his house, but on the other side of the road. They were scared to take another step. That man has put on a show. He had opened all his windows, and had locked the door, and he was shouting 'GET OUT OF HERE! RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!'

"One moment he was laughing, the other he was crying. Then he was laughing again. When I reached there, I was hypnotized like everybody for a moment. And I felt a little scared too, but I figured he's just lost it so I walked to his door. There were more than fifty people there, but it all felt so quiet, you know. As I knocked on his door, just at once he stopped laughing. 'Who's there?' He said. I couldn't reply, Ha ha, for a moment, yeah I didn't know what to say. I thought this man was crazy but his voice sounded so...sane, you know. I didn't know what to say.

"Then, in a moment, I shouted 'We've received complaints, you're disturbing the neighborhood. You need to keep it down. Another complaint and we'll take action against you. You understand? '

"But then he shouted 'I'VE SEEN IT! I'VE SEEN IT! GET OUTTA HERE! GET OUT! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! IT'S COMING! THE NIGHT IS COMING! AND IT'S NOT COMING ALONE!' And then he stopped. Not a single sound after that.

"His neighbors told me that he lives alone and only today he's thrown this fit, otherwise he's a nice old man. So well, I left it at that. Well, he didn't do anything after that, so yeah. And d'you know he's blind. If you ask me, I'm pretty sure he's done for. Well— "

The telephone rang, and they both jumped a little. Tom picked up the phone. It was for him from the police station. There was an emergency as the Robertson's farm, and he has to go immediately.

"I have to go," He said to Steve and left.

Steve was now glad. Glad that the weight has been lifted off his mind. Glad that he isn't lost anymore. Glad that now he knows exactly what to do next.