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.