ita。〃
She was brave； now that she was safe again。 She wasn't going to admit how frightened she'd been herself just now。 She fluttered her fingers in rotation on the edge of his counter。 〃What can happen to me？ This is Ciudad Real。〃
〃Many things can happen；〃 he said enigmatically。
They exchanged a look of plete mutual understanding。 But they didn't say what they meant。 It wasn't necessary to。 So he'd heard about it too。 She knew what he was referring to。 And he knew that she knew。
She tried to prolong the trivial little transaction all she could。 Because while it lasted it spelled safety； light； another's pany。 Afterwards would e darkness； fear； solitude again。
〃Will it hold that way？〃
〃Yes； just hold it up straight； hold the two corners together like this。〃
〃Oh； what a pretty cat！〃
〃You've seen him before。 Don't you remember？ I've always had him。〃
〃Yes； that's right； too。 I guess I have。〃 She gave a brief look at the door behind her； as she put down her money on the counter。
〃They didn't give you enough。 It's gone up。〃
〃I'll bring it next time。 Will you trust me？ I live in the Pasaje del Diablo； over on the other side of the viaduct…〃
〃Never fear。 Next time you e in。〃 The poor don't cheat one another； they're all poor together。
〃Well…good night； seсor。〃 She seemed to have to wrench it out of her throat； it clung so。
〃Good night； Teresita。 Better get back； don't linger on the way。〃
The bellpull jangled once more； and she was out in the dark again。 What dismal forlorn sound it had this time； though； a sort of farewell。
The fan of light on the ground behind her slowly closed； wheeled around the other way； as the byway made its turn around。 She moved along at a normal gait until the turn had pleted itself and she had。 e in sight of that black arched causeway maw again。 Then she began to hurry up； to go faster and faster… toward it； it is true； but in order to get through and out again at the other side as quickly as possible。 The excuse she tried to give herself was that her father might be home by now； and she would get the broom for taking so long with the charcoal。 But she knew that wasn't the reason at all。
She could have gone another way； up and over the boulevard。 There was a place where there were stairs built into the side of the structure that carried it。 But it would have taken her blocks out of her way； to reach it and then e back again on the Opposite side。 Oh well； she'd been through here a dozen times before。 Just once more couldn't hurt。 If she'd passed through it just now without having anything happen to her； then she could surely pass through a second time on her way back and nothing would happen either。
While she was thus engaged in trying to rationalize her fear； the intervening space had petered out and the viaduct had started to climb the night sky mountainously before her； like a sheer cliff wall； blotting out the stars as it rose。 High aloft on the top of it there was a faint powdery…blue haze from the arc lights strung out along it； and cars； she knew； were probably whistling by； all unwitting of the little dramatic adventure occurring below them in the shadowed depths of the ravine。 That was the city； spiraling planes of existence that had no knowledge of one another。
Here it came now。 The stone oval…or rather half oval…swept over her like a black scythe。 Again that hollow ringing beat came into her footsteps。 She was not going to look； she was going to male sure of not seeing anything； when she came near the place where she had imagined seeing those twin phosphorescences the first time； she had made up her mind to this ahead of time。 〃If I don't look；〃 she said to herself softly； 〃I won't see it； and it can't frighten me again。 There is probably nothing there anyway； I just imagined it。〃 But the real reason was she was afraid it still would be there； if she did look。
Since it was； presumably； ahead of her； and it would be difficult therefore to keep it Out of the corner of her eye； she advanced holding her face stiffly averted； turned to the other side； as she went by。 She could not identify the exact spot at which it had been； in this all…erasing darkness。 You couldn't see your hand before your face in it。 She had to judge more or less by the distance it had been from the entrance； the one she had just e in by； the first time。 It had been very close to it； not more than fifteen or twenty paces in。 This was about fifteen or twenty paces in now。
Her neck ached with the rigid curvature she maintained it at。 It was hard to walk with your head pointed one way； your body another。 It kept trying to pull around of its own accord。 She started to say the multiplication table over to herself； to keep her mind off it。
She hadn't stayed at school very long； she'd been working at the laundry since she was twelve or thirteen。 But she could write a little； read a little…when the words weren't too long…and she knew a few of the lower tables； the twos and threes； up to about twenty or so。 Her breath started to simmer softly with it。 〃Three times one is three。 Three times two is six。 Three times three is…。。。〃
There； it must be behind her by now。 See how easy？ See how sensible to do it that way？ She let her head swing slowly around to its natural position once more。 Nothing ahead of her； nothing at the side； nothing but even； unadulterated black； no greenish glows； no glimmers。 Behind her？ Well…it was better not to try to find out； to let that alone。 Even a little courage came back。 A few steps more and she'd be out of the place altogether。 She was a big coward to let herself get worked up like that。 In a moment more now she'd see the first star out ahead at the other side； and then it would just be a matter of climbing the lower lane； turning up the Pasaje； and she'd be at her own door。
Suddenly her heart did something before she could even understand why it had done it； as though it heard better than her very ears。 Missed a beat； or got in one too many； or something。 Her breath clogged in her throat again； as it had the time before。 Only her feet kept on moving； doing the duty for all the rest of her。
That soft； blurred pat behind her had been something she hadn't made。 No echo or transfer of any sound of hers。 Something disparate； isolate； apart； she was sure of it。 One's senses can identify one's own aura of sounds at all times。 It hadn't been the impact a shod foot makes； more on the order of something padded or bare pressing incautiously on the ground。 A cross between a rustle； such as a leaf might make； and the softest of soft slaps。 A tiny sound； a ghost of a sound； yet a sound of monstrous swelling terror； expanding balloon…like within her heart and brain。
She nearly dropped the small…sized sack of charcoal and just regained her hold on it as it started to slip from her grasp。 She wanted to do two things； diametrically opposed； at one and the same time。 Her limbs wanted to stand still； lock there； give her a chance to listen for it again； confirm it； disassociated from the sounds she herself was making。 Terror wouldn't permit it。 To stand still was to die。 She wanted to throw the encumbering charcoal bag from her； break into a headlong run then and there； all the rest of the way from here to the door of her house。 Again terror wouldn't let her； held her down to the gait she had been using until now。 It was the age…old instinct to avert danger by pretending to ignore its asserting itself in her。 Keep walking as you were； and the attack is postponed； if only a moment or two longer。 Flee…or try to flee…and you bring it on that much sooner。
She continued to move forward like a rigid automaton； unaware any longer of what her legs were doing； leaving them to their own devices。 Her ears were straining to catch the faintest… It came again； closer behind her this time； and yet； inversely； much fainter。 A nothing at all； a whisper of the paving stones。 So faint indeed that had she not heard it the first time； she would not have known she was hearing it all this time。
Something else now assailed her； again from without herself； but of a different sensory plane than hearing this time。 A prickly