The Curfew (8 page)

—I am going to meet some people. It’s important, and so I have to do it. You will eat supper with Mrs. Gibbons. I’m going to speak with her now about it.

Molly said nothing, but stared up at him.

—You really must go along with it.

Molly continued simply staring at him.

—I mean to say, it’s the best thing. We can’t have you here all alone.

Molly covered her face and, turning her back to him, sat on the floor.

—See here.

He picked her up and began to say how there was nothing to worry about, something sweet and meaningless like that. But he did not say it.

Instead,

—My dear, we must remember how the elephants behave.

Molly collected herself and came along immediately, but balked suddenly and threw herself on the floor.

—What is it?

*Just remembered something.

She was pointing her hand at William, while still lying prone on the floor.

—What did you remember?

*Elephants are playful. They do not
behave
. They must not.

—So what would a compromise be?

*You know.

—There isn’t time.

*Just a short one. Short!

A SHORT GAME of THIS & THAT

which is a game of clues hidden among things in the house, woven in messages and riddles.

It was a family inheritance and Molly adored it above all things.

—You go sit by the window and ONLY look out.

Molly grumbled silently.

—Go on.

*Going.

William found a pad of paper, a scissors, string, and a pencil. He sat on the edge of the table and surveyed the room.

How to begin?

There was a photograph of a little bird falling out of a nest. That’s a good place to start, eh?

William wrote then the first instruction:

A person leaves the house by an unfamiliar route. If something
had been left behind, where would you look? Behind?

He continued his work, and occasionally the sound of the clock came and hurried him in his labors.

FINALLY, done! A breeze was entering the room through the window and rushing about inside, giving small notice here and there. William would have smiled then, had he been the sort to smile. One envies such types—who do not smile. The rest of us go around like fools, and these few maintain such dignity! Let us never smile again.

—Molly.

(She spun around and hopped down from the windowsill.)

—Here.

A piece of paper, neatly drafted.

THE SIXTH THIS & THAT

by W. for M. late in the day.

beginning on the table, you should know

Molly ran to the table and snatched up the paper.

It read:

A person leaves the house by an unfamiliar route. If something
had been left behind, where would you look? Behind?

She began to walk up and down the room, brow bent, hand tapping against the skirt of her dress. All the while her other hand chattered to itself.

*Aha!

At the photograph of the bird’s nest,

she stopped. Reaching up, she lifted the frame. A note on a string dropped down. Out she took it.

It said:

If dogs were wild once, then I too am wild. If a rifle
consists of circles within circles, then I too circle. I am an
old measure, made by a king, and when people speak of me,
they have forgotten who I am
.

Molly frowned. She looked around suspiciously.

*Don’t know about this.

William took an orange from a basket by the stove, peeled it, and ate a section.

Molly continued in her suspicion. She did not walk this time, but stood moving her head ever so slightly from right to left.

*Another clue?

—How many clues do you need?

*Seems like one more, doesn’t it?

William ate another piece of orange.

Molly sat down and immediately jumped up again. From the back of her shoe, she tore the next note and string.

*You, you stinker.

This note said:

Loons out under indelicate skies abate
.