he last customer to suggest that there weren't going to be any more that night。 Thus one night she might close at ten； the next at eleven； the next at nine。
The girl gave a warning hail from where she was； to try to hold her at the door until she could get there； she began to run fleetly down toward it。 She got there just too late； the padlock was on the inside。 This being a depot that dealt in valuables such as sugar； candles； chick…peas； et cetera； it was kept locked during the night； unlike the domiciles around。
She could still make out a faint gleam of candlelight ing from behind a hanging at the rear when she put her face close to the glass display window to one side of the door。 Electricity for the front part of the store； candlelight for the living quarters at the back； that was the natural order of things； nothing surprising in that。 She pounded her palm on the window hopefully。
The hanging was withdrawn diagonally and old lady Calderуn showed herself； already in a partial state of deshabille； which consisted of being barefooted and of a braid of platinum hair having been uncoiled from her head and allowed to dangle down in front of one shoulder。
〃I just want a little bag of charcoal for my father's supper！〃 Teresa Delgado called through the glass between her hands。
The tienda …keeper shook her head； motioned her away； while she continued working her way down to the bottom of the braid。 〃Maсana。〃
〃It'll just take a second。 While you're standing there talking you could measure it out…〃 She held up the coin for her to see。
〃It means taking off the lock again； putting on the light； digging down in the sack。 It's too much trouble。 Once I close I close。〃 The hanging fell vertical again； blotting her out。
The girl turned away frustratedly。 Now she'd either have to go home without it or she'd have to go all the way down to that other store； streets away； over on the other side of the viaduct。 That was the nearest one there was to here。 The viaduct was a parapet of solid masonry supporting a boulevard that crossed the former river bed at a height equal to its sides。 You had to go through an arched passageway tunneled through its base to get over to the other side。 It had always； even before now （now being that rumor）； given her the creeps to have to pass through there late like this； when there was no one much around any more。 It was so black while it lasted。
But if she went back without the charcoal； her mother wouldn't let her in。 Or； if she did； would probably disbelieve her about the store being closed and would take the broom to her some more。
The more embodied fear always overes the more formless one； even when it is the lesser of the two。 She reluctantly resumed her descent toward the causeway ahead； instead of turning back for home。
When she got down to it and was about to enter； she took a deep breath； stored up enough air to see her through to the other side。 It was black and impenetrable。 The slant of the ground outside prevented what reflection there was from street lights in the distance from entering； beyond a slight indentation at its very mouth。 You'd think they'd have a light hanging in it at least； or just outside up over the entrance。 Well； they'd tried to many times； but the kids who played around here in the daytime had always ended up by busting it in a day or two； so finally they didn't try to keep one going any more。
Her footsteps began to echo hollowly the minute the unseen rounded roof had closed over her； and the stonework all around made it a little damper and mustier。 Once； a year or so ago； somebody had been found dead in here； with a knife in him and his pockets… But she didn't want to think of that now。 This was no time for it。
She had quickened her gait unconsciously； from the moment of entering。 Her eyes； brilliant and large at all times； must have been enormous in the gloom； though they couldn't be seen。 Gracias a Dios； it wasn't very long； just about the width of the boulevard that ran atop it。 She was halfway through to the other side now。 Her footfalls went bonk； bonk； bonk； bonk； like the thumping of gourds； the stones above giving the sound back to the stones below。
There…she could see the other opening ahead of her； she was ing Out。 She began to breathe again； and； only in doing so； realized she hadn't been until now。 It wasn't very much lighter out ahead than it was in here； a few motes of dark blue or gray mingled with the smooth…textured black to make it seem threadbare； that was all。 But the deep resonance of her tread began to dwindle a little； and the air to bee a little less damply oppressive。 Those were the chief signals of approaching emergence； rather than vision itself。
And then； as she hurried to meet the open again； she happened to glance over to one side of her。 For no reason； or for whatever reason it is that draws the vacant glance when there seems to be no cause yet there is。 Her throat swelled with suddenly congested breath。 What was that？ The stonework must be wet over there； there must be some slight seepage of water trickling down between their seams。 For she caught a sort of reflected gleam； an iridescent winking。
But there wasn't any light outside the passage； nothing that could strike that far in； create such a high light against the stone tunnel facing。 It was not expansive； in a sheet； nor yet was it continuous； in a perpendicular thread； such as watet might have made。 If it was water； it was in the shape of two drops； side by side。 Two elongated； almost slitted drops； rod…shaped； like bacilli seen through a microscope。 Faintly wavering； as if with inner heat carried upward behind them； in a fuming sulphurous yellow green。 Yet not distinct； not clearly etched against the blackness； nothing like that。 Rather a diffuse； a thin…surfaced glistening that； but for the blackness itself； which gave the eye； her eye； nothing else to rest upon； would have escaped her notice entirely。
They weren't eyes； were they…other eyes？ So steadily maintaining their twoness； their equidistance； their taut； stretched…out suggestion of wicked peering… No； of course not。 How could they be？ What would eyes be doing in here； and…and whose would they be anyway； and… Just don't let them be； don't think they are； if you think they aren't； they won't be。 Only light glinting from the wetted projection of two small roughnesses； two unevennesses in the stonework； side by side； that was all。
It had sidled back to the rearward now； as her feet continued to do their duty； like soldiers who continue to carry out previously received orders long past the ability of the manding officer to issue or even be able to think up new ones。 She didn't dare turn to look back； once the continuity of her line of vision had been broken； she was afraid her carefully patched explanation couldn't stand the confirmation of a second look； might fall to pieces at it。
A few short steps more； and the night sky had opened around her again。 Look； a star。 Another。 Oh； the beautiful openness of night。 Space to run in。 Even the darkness a lesser darkness； with color beneath its surface： sooted white and submerged green and blue。 The gourds of her measured tread became the rattle of her flying feet； one end of her rebozo winging out behind her。
She only stopped again when the silvery pallor of the store； falling in a fan across the ground； lay just ahead； around a turn in the crooked byway。 How beautiful it seemed； with its bedraggled fringe of paper strung across the front of it； limp from many rains； and with the colors it had once been dyed transferred to streaks down the stucco wall。 How friendly that dissonant jangle of the bell cord attached to the door sounded as she pushed her way in。 What a lovely place to be in； with its smell of hemp and cordage and kerosene。
The old Basque who ran it came out of the back； still smacking his lips from his own meal； beret left on his head even while he ate。 He knew her by sight。 〃Ah； Teresita。〃 He shook his head as he weighed out the charcoal。 〃They shouldn't send you out alone so late； hijita。〃
She was brave； now that she was safe again。 She wasn't going to admit how frightened she'