Allan stared at her, an angry flush rising in his face. “Gwen, have you lost your mind? Ellie’s eight years old. You just don’t tell an eight year old things like that. How does it sound? Ellie, come over here, I have a little current events item for you. There’s a killer at large. Two of your classmates, little girls you’ve known all your life, grown up with, well, they’ve been murdered. Some maniac’s on the loose and nobody’s caught him yet, so you’d better stay in the house. Stick around now, close, or he’s liable to murder you, too.” Allan slapped down the newspaper. “Gwen, for heaven’s sake!”
She was shaking her head, trying to stop him. “Not that way, Allan, please... Don’t be cruel. We wouldn’t have to tell her that way.”
“There isn’t any other way. No matter what we tell her, no matter how pretty we say it, that’s what it is and that’s what she’ll live with!”
A small, futile sound caught in Gwen’s throat. She turned her face away. Allan moved to her side, his anger draining off. “Honey,” he said gently, “you’re just upset. You wouldn’t even consider telling her this if you weren’t.”
She looked at him, feeling the panic rise again, bubble near the surface. “Yes I would, Allan,” she breathed. “It’s better to have Ellie terrified than murdered.” They heard the thumping of Ellie’s feet then, the slapping of slippers on the stairs. Allan hugged her briefly, reassuringly. “It’ll be all right,” he said quickly. “As soon as Ellle’s in bed, we’ll make some kind of plans to get the three of you out of here until this whole thing is over.”
A moment later, Ellie, buttoning her robe on crooked, padded into the room. “Boy, this’ll be the first time I ever beat Daddy! I got my system worked out perfect.” She groped around her knees for the missing button to fasten into the remaining buttonhole.
Gwen called her over, unbuttoning the bathrobe, starting all over again. “You missed the one. at the top,” she said.
Allan, setting up the chess set, raised his head. “I understand this system of yours is for stalemate.”
Ellie nodded. “It works fine, too. I won Joanne easy today.”
Her father looked disapproving. “Ellie,” he said, “You don’t win when you stalemate.”
“I know,” she said, cheerfully, “But it’s better than losing. Thank you, Mamma.” The buttons were in sequence now and Gwen rose, giving Ellie a parting kiss on the cheek.
“Wish me luck, Mom,” Ellie called after her.
In the kitchen, Gwen stood motionless for a moment. Joanne had been an angel, letting Ellie stalemate a chess game. Poor Joanne. She’d been cooped up all week at home, too, helping to keep track of Ellie. It wasn’t fair to Joanne... Gwen reached for the coffee pot. Fair, she thought bitterly. What a silly word. It wasn’t fair to Sharon or Barbie Jean, either. The thought laced a shiver up her spine and she pressed against the stove, trying to still the sudden jarring in her body. Then abruptly, giving up the struggle, her shoulders heaved and silently she tipped her face into her hands and wept.
During the night a storm moved in, threatening the heat wave. The sky was overcast the next morning, the hot air heavy with unshed rain. At breakfast, Joanne pushed the damp hair from her forehead. “You could drown in this weather,” she said.
“I can’t eat, Mom,” Ellie said, pushing her food away. “It’s too hot.” Summer had never been too hot before. Usually — when there wasn’t an epidemic — she set out right after breakfast with her bathing suit and a towel and lunch in a brown paper bag, to spend the day with the other kids at the swimming pool in the park. Now the park was closed and two of the kids were already sick with the epidemic and maybe they would even die... Her thoughts drew up. “Did Sharon die yet?” she said.
No one answered for a moment, then her mother, whose face suddenly looked very white and tired, said, “I haven’t heard from Sharon’s mother in a few days, Ellie. Perhaps I’ll call her today.”
“I wish you would, Mom.” It saddened Ellie to think of Sharon sick. The weather saddened her, too, and her mother’s pale face. A sudden fear clutched Ellie. “Mamma,” she said, “Are you sick?”
Allan, feeling again the swift rise of anger against his own helplessness, said brusquely, “Mother’s not sick, Ellie. Mother’s tired and Worried. You’ve worn her out this week trying to keep an eye on you. If you’d just be willing to accept things and stop complaining, I don’t think she’d be so tired.”
Ellie’s sadness amalgamated, fusing into a great contrite lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Mamma,” she said remorsefully.
Gwen glared at her husband. It was enough that Ellie was miserable. Why did he have to make her guilty, too? Indignantly, she snapped, “For heaven’s sake, Allan, it isn’t Ellie’s fault!”
Allan swung around, looking carefully at her. “It isn’t my fault, either,” he said tersely. There was a moment of charged silence. Joanne and Ellie glanced at their parents, at each other, at the food on their plates. Gwen saw their faces and felt her heart go soggy, felt the tears push up behind her eyes. “Allan,” she said quickly, reaching out, touching his hand, “forgive me. I’m just jumpy, I guess...”
“We’re all getting on each other’s nerves,” he said quietly. He turned to his daughters. “Look, girls, I’ve tried to make reservations at the Lake, but they can’t take you and Mother on such short notice. I’m going to try again from the office this morning. If I can find a place that can take you in the next day or so, I’ll be able to get you out of here. If not, we’ll just have to make the best of this till it’s over. Now it’ll make things a lot easier on everyone,” he added pointedly, looking at Ellie, “if we all decide to cooperate.”
Ellie bobbed her head, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears. “I already decided, Daddy,” she said. “I’ll cooperate, honest. I’ll cooperate on everyone.” They smiled and Ellie promised herself solemnly that she wouldn’t bother anyone the whole day.
Ellie trailed her mother around the house all morning, doggedly assisting with the housework, putting dishes away half-dried, blundering through the bedmaking, finally, to Gwen’s relief, retiring with a dust cloth to the living room. Outdoors, the skies were still gray and the heat was even thicker now, almost wet. At ten o’clock, the phone rang for Joanne. Ellie, carefully working the dust off the carved legs of an end table, overheard the conversation and ran to her mother in the kitchen.
“Mamma, it’s someone over at Crestline asking Joanne to go swimming. Joanne said she couldn’t go because she had to help you take care of me. She doesn’t have to take care of me, Mamma. I can take care of myself, honest. Do they have an epidemic at Crestline?”
Gwen, peeling vegetables at the kitchen sink, paused, hearing the entreaty in Ellie’s voice. Poor little Ellie. She felt responsible now for everyone’s misery. The call must be from Kathy Mills. Kathy’s father had moved to Crestline last year. It would be an opportunity for Joanne to get out of the house, have a little fun. And Ellie really was cooperating. Gwen felt that Ellie, for the first time, was ready to accept the Quarantine. She turned from the sink, drying her hands and hugged Ellie briefly. “No, honey, there’s no epidemic at Crestline. Come on. Let’s go tell Joanne before Kathy hangs up.”
It was a barbeque party. Joanne would be spending the night at Crestline! Gwen talked with Mrs. Mills. Kathy’s brother would pick up Joanne after lunch and bring her home tomorrow. When Gwen got off the phone, Joanne hugged her hard and Ellie, beside herself, hugged them both.
There was a sudden festivity in the house; the bustle of packing, digging but the suitcase, ironing Joanne’s best cotton, sewing a button on her tennis dress... A dozen times Joanne said, “Mother, are you sure you won’t need me?” or “I just know it’s going to rain,” and each time her mother answered with a variation of, “No, dear, I won’t need you,” and “It won’t matter if it rains. They’re having the party on a covered deck.”