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So she leads them back to the house where they'll spend so much of their time in the following years … the house at 19 Maple Lane … only it is really Duddits who leads the way； prancing； skipping； sometimes lifting his yellow Scooby…Doo lunchbox over his head； but always； Beaver notices； keeping at almost exactly the same place on the sidewalk； about a foot from the grass margin between the walk and the street。 Years later； after the thing with the Rinkenhauer girl； he will consider what Mrs Cavell said。 They all will。 He sees the line。
4
'Jonesy？' Beaver called。
No answer。 Christ； it seemed like Jonesy had been gone a long
time。 Probably hadn't been； but there was no way Beaver could tell； he'd forgotten to put on his watch that morning。 Stupid； but then； he'd always been stupid； he ought to be used to it by now。 Next to Jonesy and Henry； both he and Pete had been stupid。 Not that Jonesy or Henry had ever treated them that way … that was one of the great things about them。
'Jonesy？'
Still nothing。 Probably he was having trouble finding the tape； that was all。
There was a vile little voice far back in Beaver's head telling him that the tape had nothing to do with it； that Jonesy had just gone Powder River； leaving him here to sit on the toilet like Danny Glover in that movie； but he wouldn't listen to that voice because Jonesy would never do anything like that。 They were friends to the end； always had been。
That's right； the vile voice agreed。 You were friends。 And this is the end。
'Jonesy？ You there； man？'
Still nothing。 Maybe the tape had fallen off the nail it had been hung on。
Nothing from beneath him； either。 And hey； it really wasn't possible that McCarthy had shit some kind of monster into the john； was it？ That he'd given birth to … Gasp！ … The Beast in the Bowl？ It sounded like a horror…movie spoof on Saturday Night Live。 And even if that had happened； The Beast in the Bowl had probably drowned by now； drowned or gone deep。 A line from a story suddenly occurred to him； one they'd read to Duddits … taking turns； and it was good there were four of them because when Duddits liked something he never got tired of it。
'Eee doool！' Duddits would shout； running to one of them with the book held high over his head； the way he'd carried his lunchbox home that first day。 'Eee doool； eee doool！' Which in this case meant Read Pool！ Read Pool！ The book was McElligot's Pool； by Dr。 Seuss； the first memorable couplet of which went； 'Young man；' （argued the farmer） 'You're sort of a fool！ You'll never catch fish in McElligot's Pool！' But there had been fish； at least in the imagination of the little boy in the story。 Plenty of fish。 Big fish。
No splashes from beneath him； though。 No bumps on the underside of the lid； either。 Not for awhile now。 He could maybe risk one quick look； just raise the lid a little and slam it back down if anything…
But sit tight； buddy was the last thing Jonesy had said to him； and that was what he'd better do。
Jonesy's most likely a mile down the road by now； the vile voice estimated。 A mile down the road and still picking up speed。
'No； he ain't；' Beaver said。 'Not Jonesy。'
He shifted a little bit on the closed seat； waiting for the thing to jump； but it didn't。 It might be sixty yards away by now and swimming with the turds in the septic tank。 Jonesy had said it was too big to go down； but since neither of them had actually seen it； there was no way to tell for sure； was there？ But in either case； Monsieur Beaver Clarendon was going to sit right here。 Because he'd said he would。 Because time always seemed slower when you were worried or scared。 And because he trusted Jonesy。 Jonesy and Henry had never hurt him or made fun； not of him and not of Pete。 And none of them had ever hurt Duddits or made fun of him； either。
Beav snorted laughter。 Duddits with his Scooby…Doo lunchbox。 Duddits on his belly； blowing the fluff off dandelions。 Duddits running around in his back yard； happy as a bird in a tree； yeah； and people who called kids like him special didn't know the half of it。 He had been special； all right； their present from a fucked…up world that usually didn't give you jack…shit。 Duddits had been their own special thing； and they had loved him。
5
They sit in the sunny kitchen nook … the clouds have gone away as if by magic … drinking iced tea and watching Duddits； who drank his ZaRex （awful…looking orange stuff） in three or four huge splattering gulps and then ran out back to play。
Henry does most of the talking； telling Mrs Cavell that the boys were just 'kinda pushing him around。' He says that they got a little bit rough and ripped his shirt； which scared Duddits and made him cry。 There is no mention of how Richie Grenadeau and his friends took off his pants； no mention of the nasty after…school snack they wanted Duddits to eat； and when Mrs Cavell asks them if they know who these big boys were； Henry hesitates briefly and then says no； just some big boys from the high school； he didn't know any of them； hot by name。 She looks at Beaver； Jonesy； and Pete； they all shake their heads。 It may be wrong … dangerous to Duddits in the long run； as well … but they can't step that far outside the rules which govern their lives。 Already Beaver cannot understand where they found the sack to intervene in the first place； and later the others will say the same。 They marvel at their courage； they also marvel that they aren't in the fuckin hospital。
She looks at them sadly for a moment； and Beaver realizes she knows a lot of what they aren't telling； probably enough to keep her awake that night。 Then she smiles。 Right at Beaver she smiles； and it makes him tingle all the way down to his toes。 'What a lot of zippers you have on your jacket！' she says。
Beaver smiles。 'Yes； ma'am。 It's my Fonzie jacket。 It was my brother's first。 These guys make fun of it； but I like it just the same。'
'Happy Days；' she says。 'We like it； too。 Duddits likes it。 Perhaps you'd like to e over some night and watch it with us。 With him。' Her smile grows wistful； as if she knows nothing like that will ever happen。
'Yeah； that'd be okay；' Beav says。
'Actually it would；' Pete agrees。
They sit for a little without talking； just watching him play in the back yard。 There's a swing…set with two swings。 Duddits runs behind them； pushing them； making the swings go by themselves。 Sometimes he stops； crosses his arms over his chest； turns the clockless dial of his face up to the sky； and laughs。
'Seems all right now；' Jonesy says； and drinks the last of his tea。 'Guess he's forgotten all about it。'
Mrs Cavell has started to get up。 Now she sits back down； giving him an almost startled look。 'Oh no； not at all；' she says。 'He remembers。 Not like you and I； perhaps； but he remembers things。 He'll probably have nightmares tonight； and when we go into his room … his father and me … he won't be able to explain。 That's the worst for him； he can't tell what it is he sees and thinks and feels。 He doesn't have the vocabulary。'
She sighs。
'In any case； those boys won't forget about him。 What if they're laying for him now？ What if they're laying for you？'
'We can take care of ourselves；' Jonesy says； but although his voice is stout enough； his eyes are uneasy；
'Maybe；' she says。 'But what about Duddits？ I can walk him to school … I used to； and I suppose I'll have to again； for awhile at least； anyway … but he loves to walk home on his own so much。'
'It makes him feel like a big boy；' Pete says。
She reaches across the table and touches Pete's hand； making him blush。 'That's right； it makes him feel like a big boy。'
'You know；' Henry says； 'we could walk him。 We all go together to the junior high； and it would be easy enough to e down here from Kansas Street。'…
Roberta Cavell only sits there without saying anything； a little birdie…woman in a print dress； looking at Henry attentively； like someone waiting for the punchline of a joke。
'Would that be okay； Missus Cavell？' Beaver asks her。 'Because we could do it； easy。 Or maybe you don't want us to。'
Something plicated happens t