〃We started to。 But it wasn't much fun； so we went up to Gordon's Woods。〃
〃Where's that？〃
They were in the final block of Main Street； but the road continued to the west。 It rose with the land； rounded a bluff； and went on until it reached the mill and after that the logging camp。
Jeremy pointed to the forest atop the bluff。 〃That's Gordon's Woods。〃
〃Why would you want to go up there？〃 Paul asked。 〃We've got a tree house in Gordon's Woods。〃 The boy read Paul's expression accurately； and he quickly said； 〃Oh； don't worry； Mr。 Annendale。 It's not a rickety old place。 It's pletely safe。 Some of our fathers built it for all the kids in town。〃
〃He's right；〃 Jenny said。 〃It's safe。 Sam was one of the fathers who built it。〃 She smiled。 〃Even though his daughter is a bit too old for treehouses。〃
Jeremy grinned。 He wore braces。 Those and the freckles that peppered his face disarmed Paul。 The boy clearly didn't have the guile； the dark personality； or the experience to take part in a murder conspiracy。
Paul felt somewhat relieved。 When he hadn't found Jeremy and Mark at the basketball court； that icy hand had settled once more； if briefly； on the back of his neck。 He said； 〃Is Mark up at the treehouse now？〃
Yeah。
〃Why aren't you there？〃
〃Me and Mark and a couple of other kids want to play Monopoly。 So I'm going home to get my set。〃
〃Jeremy。 。 。〃 How could he possibly find out what he wanted to know？ 〃Did anything…happen in your kitchen this morning？〃
The boy blinked； a bit perplexed by the question。 〃We had breakfast。〃
Feeling more foolish than ever； Paul said； 〃Well 。 。 。 You better get your Monopoly set。 The other kids are waiting。〃
Jeremy said good…by to Jenny and Paul and to Buster； turned； looked both ways； and crossed the street。
Paul watched him until he turned the corner at the square。
〃Now what？〃 Jenny asked。
〃Rya probably ran to Sam for sympathy and protection。〃 He sighed。 〃She's had time to calm down。 Maybe she realizes that she panicked。 We'll see what her story is now。〃
〃If she didn't run to Sam？〃
〃Then there's no use looking for her all over town。 If she wants to hide from us； she can with little trouble。 Sooner or later she'll e to the store。〃
Sitting at the kitchen table； across from his mother； Jeremy recounted the conversation he'd had with Paul Annendale a few minutes ago。
When the boy finished； Salsbury said； 〃And he believed it？〃
Jeremy frowned。 〃Believed what？〃
〃He believed that Mark was at the treehouse？〃
〃Well； sure。 Isn't he？〃
Okay。 Okay； okay； Salsbury thought。 This isn't the end of the crisis。 You've bought some time to think。 An hour or two。 Maybe three hours。 Eventually Annendale will go looking for his son。 Two or three hours。 You've no time to waste。 Be decisive。 You've been wonderfully decisive so far。 What you've got to do is be decisive and get this straightened out before you have to tell Dawson about it。
Earlier； within twenty minutes of the boy's death； he had
edited the Thorp family's memories； had erased all remembrance of the killing from their minds。 That editing took no longer than two or three minutes…but it was only the first stage of a plan to conceal his involvement in the murder。 If the situation were any less desperate； if a capital offense hadn't been mitted； if the entire key…lock program didn't hang in the balance； he could have left the Thorps with blank spots in their memories； and he would have felt perfectly safe in spite of that。 But the circumstances were such that he knew he should not merely wipe out the truth but that he should also replace it with a detailed set of false memories； recollections of routine events which might have happened that morning but which in reality did not。
He decided to begin with the woman。 To the boy he said； 〃Go into the living room and sit on the couch。 Don't move from there until I call for you。 Understood？〃
〃Yeah。〃 Jeremy left the room。
Salsbury thought for a minute about how to proceed。
Emma watched him； waited。
Finally he said； 〃Emma； what time is it？〃
She looked at the clock…radio。 〃Twenty minutes of eleven。〃
〃No；〃 he said softly。 〃That's wrong。 it's twenty minutes of nine。 Twenty minutes of nine this 'morning。〃
〃It is？〃
〃Look at the clock； Emma。〃
〃Twenty of nine；〃 she said。
〃Where are you； Emma？〃
〃In my kitchen。〃
〃Who else is here？〃
〃Just you。〃
〃No。〃 He sat in Jeremy's chair。 〃You can't see me。 You can't see me at all。 Can you； Emma？〃
〃No。 I can't see you。〃
〃You can hear me。 But you know what？ Whenever our little Conversation is over； you won't remember we've had it。 Every event that I describe to you in the next couple of minutes will bee a part of your memories。 You won't remember that you
were told these things。 You will think that you actually experienced them。 Is that clear； Emma？〃
〃Yes。〃 Her eyes glazed。 Her facial muscles went slack。
〃All right。 What time is it？〃
〃Twenty minutes of nine。〃 〃Where are you？〃
〃In my kitchen。〃
〃Who else is here？〃
〃No one。〃
〃Bob and Jeremy are here。〃 〃Bob and Jeremy are here；〃 she said。 〃Bob's in that chair。〃
She smiled at Bob。
〃Jeremy's sitting there。 The three of you are eating breakfast。〃
〃Yes。 Breakfast。〃
〃Fried eggs。 Toast； Orange juice。〃
〃Fried eggs。 Toast。 Orange juice。〃
〃Pick up that glass； Emma。〃
She lifted the empty glass in front of her。
〃Drink； Emma。〃
She stared doubtfully at the tumbler。
〃It's filled to the top with cold； sweet orange juice。 Do you see it？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Doesn't it look good？〃 〃Yes。〃
〃Drink some of it； Emma。〃 She drank from the empty glass。
He laughed aloud。 The power。 。 。 It was going to work。 He could make her remember whatever he wished。 〃How does it taste？〃
She licked her lips。 〃Delicious。〃
Lovely animal； he thought； suddenly giddy。 Lovely； lovely little animal。
3
NOON IN BUDDY'S NIGHTMARE two men were filling the town's reservoir with cats。 In the deepest shadows of the night； just before sunrise； they were standing at the edge of the pool； opening cages and pitching the animals into the water。 The felines squalled about this assault on their dignity and fort。 Soon the reservoir was teeming with cats： alley cats； Siamese cats； Angora cats； Persian cats； black cats and gray cats and white cats and yellow cats； striped cats； spotted cats； old cats and kittens。 Below the reservoir； in Black River； Buddy innocently turned on the cold water tap in his kitchen…and cats； dozens upon dozens of fiercely angry cats； began to spill into the sink； full…sized cats that had somehow； miraculously； passed through the plumbing； through narrow…gauge pipe and rat traps and elbow joints and filter screens。 Screeching； wailing； hissing； biting； scratching cats fell over one another and clawed the porcelain and scrambled inexorably out of the sink as new streams of cats poured in behind them。 Cats on the counter。 Cats on the breadbox。 Cats in the dish rack。 They leapt to the floor and clambered atop the cupboards。 One of them jumped on Buddy's back as he turned to run。 He tore it loose and threw it against the wall。 The other cats were outraged by this cruelty。 They Swarmed after Buddy； all of them spitting and snarling。 He
reached the bedroom/living room inches ahead of them； slammed and locked the door。 They threw themselves against the far side of the barrier and yammered incessantly； but they weren't strong enough to force their way through it。 Relieved that he had escaped them； Buddy turned…and saw ten…yard…square cages full of cats； scores of green eyes studying him intensely； and behind the cages two men wearing shoulder holsters； holding pistols； and dressed in black rubber scuba suits。
He woke up； sat up； and screamed。 He flailed at the mattress； wrestled with the sheets； and pounded his fists into the pillows for a few seconds until； gradually； he realized that none of these things was a cat。
〃Dream；〃 he mumbled。
Because Buddy slept in the mornings and early afternoons； the drapes were heavy； and there was virtually no light in the room。 He quickly switched on the bedside lamp。
No cats。
No men in scuba suits。
Although he knew that he had been dreaming； although he'd