Bill reached the end of the block. He looked back at her, still grinning in that hateful way. Once more he tossed Reddy up in the air and called:
“Flying fox!”
Tears now slipped down Kristie's cheeks. She rubbed angrily at her eyes. Bill liked to see her cry. Listen to him now!
Bill was jumping up and down, his hand around Reddy's neck, swinging the fox back and forth as if the animal were a ball bat.
“Yah, Yah! Kristie's a crybaby! Lookit the crybaby!”
With a last “crybaby,” he rounded the house at the block's end. Forgetting her promise to Lew and Fanna, Kristie limped after Bill as fast as she could. As she passed the comer, she saw Bill waiting for her halfway down the street, once more tossing Reddy up in the air.
This time he caught Reddy by the tail and swung the fox around and around. Kristie cried out.
She knew Reddy was not really alive but somehow he seemed so to her. To see Bill swinging him by his bushy tail was as horrible as if Reddy could feel the pain.
“No, don't!” she screamed.
Bill only laughed.
“Crybaby!” he jeered. “You think you're so smarty-smart ‘cause your brother's the Big Man for the Crowd. Well, I've got no big brother, but I'm a lot smarter ‘n faster ‘n everything than any old girl. Isn't that so, Kristie? Isn't it? Say it—say it! That I'm smarter than you! If you don't, you won't see this old stuffed thing again!”
He swung Reddy around harder and harder. Then, to Kristie's terror and despair, Reddy's body arched far up into the air, though his bush of a tail still remained in Bill's tight hold. Up and out flew Reddy, back into the open mouth of one of the small passages between two buildings, where there were dark places in spite of the overhead lights.
“Stupid old thing.” After a moment of silence Bill dropped the tail and gave the piece of fur a kick. “Just a silly thing for a Little to play with.”
But he was no longer grinning. Instead he looked uneasy, eyeing Kristie sideways.
“Stupid thing!” he repeated loudly, and started down the street towards her. But he kept to the other side, still watching the girl as if he expected her to call one of the Bigs to deal with him.
Bill—Bill had killed Reddy! Kristie paid no attention to the boy as he edged past, well away from her. She felt queer inside, as if something so terrible had happened that she could not think about it. She did not even see Bill leave. Her eyes were fixed on the tail lying on the wiggle-walk.
Kristie limped on until she could pick it up. Now she was shocked past crying. She just felt all cold inside. The furry tail was in her hands. But Reddy—Reddy was gone!
For a long minute Kristie stood there, trying not to believe that this awful thing had happened. Only she could not shut out the truth. Reddy—!
Kristie turned to face the narrow, shadow-filled passageway into which the fox had disappeared. Maybe she could find him. She had to find him!
Holding the tail tightly in her sweating hand, Kristie plunged into the dark way. She stumbled over a clutter of broken-open boxes. Looters must have used this way for a dump. How could she ever find Reddy in this mass of debris?
Kristie forced herself to go slowly and look carefully. Her leg ached as she climbed over and around boxes and ripped-open cartons, pushing and pulling at some so she could see better into the cracks between them.
How could Reddy have flown so far? Kristie was more than halfway down the alley now. Somehow she must have missed him.
“Reddy?” She called in a thin voice as if he could really hear her and answer. Now she was crying again, wearily, as she looked around. There were so many places where he might be and she could not see him.
Her only hope was to search clear to the end of the way and then come back again.
She kicked at paper which lay in dirty wads and rounded a couple of crates with mashed-in ends. She had to stop and rest her leg. It hurt so much now. She leaned against a pile of boxes, with tears so heavy in her eyes that she could no longer see very well.
It was when she started to search again that she caught a glimpse of ruddy fur. With a cry of relief Kristie pulled at a carton. Reddy!
He had landed on his back and was looking up at her with his shining black eyes. Kristie hugged him close.
“Reddy!”
Perhaps Fanna could put on his tail. Reddy might not be alive like Kristie or Ella, but he was a person to Kristie and he needed Fanna to help him.
She turned him around to inspect where the tail had come loose. There was a hole, and on the tail was a point which must fit into the hole. Kristie gently pushed Reddy's tail into its rightful place. It was still loose. She would have to be very careful until Fanna could fasten it, maybe with some glue. But Reddy was whole again. And as Kristie examined him, she could discover no further harm.
“Reddy!” She hugged him tightly. Now that she had time to think she was really mad at Bill. She did not usually tattletale to a Big, but Kristie decided that she must let Lew know about Bill
She held Reddy tenderly against her as she rose from the crate where she had been sitting. She felt so relieved and happy that she began to sing one of the songs from the tapes. It was the same one Lew had whistled on the day she had hunted for the Gate:
"London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down.”
Suddenly Kristie was startled into silence. Someone else was singing, and it was not a Little. The voice was strong and deep:
"Who will build it up again,
Up again, up again?"
The other voice sang loud and clear.
Kristie wet her lips with her tongue tip.
“Lew?” she called uncertainly. But Lew seldom sang; he preferred to whistle. Could it be one of the other Bigs? No, she had never heard any of them sing that kind of a song.
"We shall build it up again,
Up again, up again!
We shall build it up again,
My fair lady!"
Then she heard more voices—Littles’ voices!
With Reddy pressed tightly to her for safety, Kristie headed on down the way towards the voices instead of back towards the block where the Crowd lived.
"Wood and clay will wash away,
Wash away, wash awaway”
It was the deep voice again. The Littles echoed in their shriller tones:
"Wood and clay will wash away,
My fair lady!"
The singing was now quite close. Kristie halted at the end of the alley and looked out onto a more brightly lighted and wider wiggle-walk. She gasped at what she saw.
There was a Big—no, he was an Old! But there were no Olds left; everyone knew that. Then how could she be seeing one?
He was not walking or running but jigging along, two steps forward and one back, hopping from foot to foot. His tall body was never still. Sometimes he faced ahead. Sometimes he turned around in a jump to look back the way he had come, at those who followed him.
He had followers—four Littles! Two were perhaps as old as Kristie herself, the other two younger. And as they sang, they were hopping and jiggling along, too, just like the Old.
As he jumped, spun, and danced, his body glittered all over. He was not wearing the same kind of clothes as the Crowd. His clothes fitted tightly to his body and were patched with different colors. The patches shone as if sewn with sparkles. Little flickers of light ran from one patch to the next with every movement of the Old's body.
As he waved his arms and flipped his hands back and forth, the sparks of color seemed to spring out into the air around him. His head bobbed and nodded. It was covered with hair as white as the cotton thread Fanna used to sew with. One lock flopped down until it almost hid his twinkling eyes. And his brown skin was darker than any Kristie had ever seen before.
"'Iron and steel will rust away,’” he continued the song, waving one arm urgently as if telling them to sing louder.
“ ’Rust away, rust away!'” the Littles shouted in r
eturn.
Then he glanced around and his eyes met Kristie's.
He—she did not know what happened at the moment when he looked at her so directly. There was something very important which she must do, which they all must do.
Lew—Fanna—for a short second she remembered her promise. Then the memory was swept away.
The sparkling Old was beckoning to her. He was not singing now, but smiling gently. Why, there was nothing at all to be afraid of. This was right: to follow the Rhyming Man was what she wanted to do most in all the world.
She moved out of the shadowed alley. The Rhyming Man was never still, even as he paused to wave her on to join the Littles. Instead he hopped and skipped, smiled and nodded.
"In and out do we go,
Bow and scrape,
And point the toe!"
He sang, pointing to her and the rest of the Littles and making them a deep bow. He ended by following his own orders and pointing outward with his toe on the walk.
"Take hands, all,
And let us go!
Time is short,
That we know.”
Kristie shifted Reddy into the crook of her right arm and found her left hand caught by the nearest Little. Now they were all linked together.
The Rhyming Man nodded so vigorously as he viewed them that sparkles of color appeared to fly outwards from every part of him.
"'London Bridge is falling down,’” he began once more.
Kristie began to dance in time to the tune, her hurting leg quite forgotten as she joined in singing:
"'Falling down, falling down—'”
Now she neither knew nor cared where they might be going—just following the Rhyming Man was enough.
5
* * *
* * *
In and Out, Roundabout
"Trip and go, heave and ho!
Up and down, to and fro;
Front the town to the grove,
Two by two let us rove,
A-maying, a-playing;
Love hath no gainsaying!
So—merrily, merrily, trip and go!"
The Rhyming Man jigged along. And though Kristie had never heard the song before, she was singing the words as if she had known them all her life. The girl she held hands with was singing, too, as were all the Littles. The sound of their voices filled the street and echoed back from the empty buildings.
Kristie was only dimly aware that this was a part of the city she had never seen before. Many of the lights were out so that shadows crept out toward them over the edge of the wiggle-walk on which they danced. However, the glimmer of the Rhyming Man's clothing grew brighter and brighter. He was like a moving light leading them on.
“ ’Here we go round the jingo-ring,‘” he sang as he pranced to the left into a wide doorway of one of the buildings.
"The jingo-ring, the jingo-ring.
Here we go round the jingo-ring,
With a merry-ma, merry-ma-tanzie!"
The inside of the building was light again. This radiance spread, not from the walls or the ceiling far over their heads, but from under their feet. When they danced after their singing leader into a great room, Kristie saw that the floor was made up of big blocks of different colors. As the Rhyming Man jigged and hopped from one to the next, the blocks blazed under his feet.
Somehow Kristie and the rest knew, without his ever telling them, that they must follow him carefully, stepping in turn just where he had gone. Now he dropped back to catch hands with the two smallest Littles, turning a wide smile from one to the other.
"See-saw, sacaradown,
Now which is the way to London Town?
Put one foot up, the other down.
This is the way to London Town!"
There was a red square beneath Kristie, then a yellow. Now a green, then a blue. The Rhyming Man hopped two squares to the left and landed on another red one, carrying both Littles with him as easily as if they had springs on their feet. Yellow again, then another hop to the right, not this time to blue but to a block which glowed green, then over farther to a red.
Kristie did not try to think about what they were doing. She simply followed the feeling that this was right. Her feet obeyed the movements of the Rhyming Man with no commands from her to do this or that.
"Intery, mintery, cutery corn;
Appleseed and apple thorn;
Wine, brier, lumber-lock,
Five fat geese in one flock.
Sit you now and let us sing,
Out about and in again!"
He had dropped the Littles’ hands and they squatted down on the floor, each in the middle of a red block. Kristie was planted on a yellow. The others, flanking her, were on green.
For the first time the Rhyming Man stood still. Now the smile left his face as he turned to look at them one after another, staring straight into the eyes of each of his small followers. When his gaze met Kristie's, she was not afraid but rather excited, the way a person gets when something good is about to happen.
He began to sing again, but this time none of the children recognized the words or believed they must sing, too.
"For every evil under the sun,
There is a remedy, or there is none.
If there be one, seek till you find it,
If there be none, never mind it.”
Kristie did not know just what he meant. However, she sensed that this was important. They must do something now—she waited for the Rhyming Man to tell them what it was.
"Seeing's believing—no, no, no!
Believing's seeing, you can go!"
Kristie was puzzled. She was sure that what he said was very important indeed. Yet she could not understand.
Again he was quiet and looked at each of them for a long, searching moment. Then once more he smiled. Kristie let go of her breath in a sigh of relief. It was all right; her not understanding did not really matter in the least. She should just follow the Rhyming Man and all would be well.
He snapped his fingers. The Littles understood his signal and scrambled once more to their feet. He skipped from one red block to the next, always facing them.
"'Now we dance, looby, looby, looby,’” his voice seemed to fill the whole of the room, big as it was.
"Now we dance, looby, looby, looby, light.
Look to your left hand,
Now to your right!"
Like the others, Kristie obeyed, moving first to the nearest block to the left and then right to the one she had stood on before. Twice the Rhyming Man sang directions, and twice they did just as he told them.
Then he was still, raising his hand with a long finger ready to point.
"Eeery, Orrey, Ickery, Ann,
Fillison, Follison, Nicholas John,
Queevy, Quavey, English Navy,
Out goes you—and you—and you—"
His finger moved very quickly, pointing at first to the two Littles right before him, then at those on a line with Kristie. She did not even have time to gasp as she saw one child after another disappear. Then—
Kristie had no words to describe what happened when that long finger centered on her. There was no light, just a big, thick black in which she was lost. She tried to scream, and then—
She was rolling across something as green as the blocks of the pavement, but much softer. It did not shine either.
As Kristie came to a halt, she lay on her back looking up. There was no grey dome over her. Kristie gulped. Was that—sky? Could she be—Outside?
She shut her eyes. No! This was so—so open! If this was really Outside, she did not want to be here after all. Lew! She wanted Lew! She wanted Fanna. She wanted most of all to open her eyes and again see the buildings, the wiggle-walk, all that was right and real. Not this—this emptiness!
Clutching Reddy tightly to her, Kristie tried to believe that this was all a bad dream, like her dreams about the rats. It must be a dream—it must be!
"For every evil under the sun,
There is
a remedy, or there is none.
If there be one, seek till you find it.
If there be none, never mind it.”
The Rhyming Man's voice. Now the words sounded fainter, as if he were farther away. No hollow echo followed as it had in the big hall.
Kristie knew she could not sit here forever holding her eyes shut. So she made herself think about the words of the song, even though she did not understand them.
Summoning up all her courage, Kristie opened her eyes. There was the Rhyming Man, looking straight at her again. Only she did not feel as confident as she had when he had gazed at her that way before. Outside, his bright clothing did not glitter and his face looked as if he were very tired— somehow a little like Lew looked when he was worried about the breathers stopping or the machines going wrong.
Behind him, all around him, the world was green! Not the bright green of the squares over which they had danced, but a green Kristie had never seen before.
She swallowed again. It was true. This was Outside—as it had been on the reading tapes. That was a tree right behind the Rhyming Man, this was grass under her—
All this openness—no walls, no dome. Kristie crouched lower, hugging the ground, wanting the walls, the dome. They were safe—this was—
She heard a babble of voices and turned her head very cautiously. They were all there, all the others who had followed the Rhyming Man. But now they were strangers. Kristie hugged Reddy tighter. She was fighting tears and she wanted to scream as loudly as she had when the rats caught her.
The Rhyming Man still looked down into her eyes. Kristie tried to avoid his gaze. No! She would not—