"On Main Street. The Spauldings were buying tickets for a show. And there, all of a sudden, in the crowd, was Lavinia. Must have been quite a scene. She didn't know them first off. They followed her half down a street and spoke to her. Then she remembered."
"Did you see her?"
"No, but I heard her singing. Remember how she used to sing 'The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond'? I heard her trilling out for her father a while ago over there in their house. It was good to hear; her such a beautiful girl. A shame, I thought, her dead; and now with her back again it's fine. Here now, you look weak yourself. Better come in for a spot of whisky ..."
"Thanks, no, Mike." The old man moved away. He heard Mike say good night and did not answer, but fixed his eyes upon the two-story building where rambling clusters of crimson Martian flowers lay upon the high crystal roof. Around back, above the garden, was a twisted iron balcony, and the windows above were lighted. It was very late, and still he thought to himself: What will happen to Anna if I don't bring Tom home with me? This second shock, this second death, what will it do to her? Will she remember the first death, too, and this dream, and the sudden vanishing? Oh God, I've got to find Tom, or what will come of Anna? Poor Anna, waiting there at the landing. He paused and lifted his head. Somewhere above, voices bade other soft voices good night, doors turned and shut, lights dimmed, and a gentle singing continued. A moment later a girl no more than eighteen, very lovely, came out upon the balcony.
LaFarge called up through the wind that was blowing.
The girl turned and looked down. "Who's there?" she cried.
"It's me," said the old man, and, realizing this reply to be silly and strange, fell silent, his lips working. Should he call out, "Tom, my son, this is your father"? How to speak to her? She would think him quite insane and summon her parents.
The girl bent forward in the blowing light. "I know you," she replied softly. "Please go; there's nothing you can do."
"You've got to come back!" It escaped LaFarge before he could prevent it.
The moonlit figure above drew into shadow, so there was no identity, only a voice. "I'm not your son any more," it said. "We should never have come to town."
"Anna's waiting at the landing!"
"I'm sorry," said the quiet voice. "But what can I do? I'm happy here, I'm loved, even as you loved me. I am what I am, and I take what can be taken; too late now, they've caught me."
"But Anna, the shock to her. Think of that."
"The thoughts are too strong in this house; it's like being imprisoned. I can't change myself back."
"You are Tom, you were Tom, weren't you? You aren't joking with an old man; you're not really Lavinia Spaulding?"
"I'm not anyone, I'm just myself; wherever I am, I am something, and now I'm something you can't help."
"You're not safe in the town. It's better out on the canal where no one can hurt you," pleaded the old man.
"That's true." The voice hesitated. "But I must consider these people now. How would they feel if, in the morning, I was gone again, this time for good? Anyway, the mother knows what I am; she guessed, even as you did. I think they all guessed but didn't question. You don't question Providence. If you can't have the reality, a dream is just as good. Perhaps I'm not their dead one back, but I'm something almost better to them; an ideal shaped by their minds. I have a choice of hurting them or your wife."
"They're a family of five. They can stand your loss better!"
"Please," said the voice. "I'm tired."
The old man's voice hardened. "You've got to come. I can't let Anna be hurt again. You're our son. You're my son, and you belong to us."
; "No, please!" The shadow trembled.
"You don't belong to this house or these people!"
"No, don't do this to me!"
"Tom, Tom, Son, listen to me. Come back, slip down the vines, boy. Come along, Anna's waiting; we'll give you a good home, everything you want." He stared and stared upward, willing it to be.
The shadows drifted, the vines rustled.
At last the quiet voice said, "All right, Father."
"Tom!"
In the moonlight the quick figure of a boy slid down through the vines. LaFarge put up his arms to catch him.