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She rolled him back up in his flannel
and peeped out the door. The coast was clear. She lugged him upstairs.
Closing the bedroom door behind her, she unrolled him.
“If they do hang around, don't do anything
stupid. There is no point in you playing the hero.”
“They won't hang around! They're scared
to death drawing a blood sample even when you're unconscious. They won't
be able to get out of here fast enough. I expect they'll be in the truck
and gone before you wake up. But if they're not, remember...”
“I know. Keep my eyes shut.”
She put two pillows and a few towels
in the flannel sheet and rolled it up. “It's not heavy enough. The
balloon will go up too fast. We need something heavy.” There wasn't
anything suitable in the room. “I'll just have to improvise.”
She found a good hiding place for
Henry behind a stack of towels in the linen closet. It was about ten feet
from the bed. There was a quick tapping on the bedroom door. “Okay.
Just a minute,” she shouted. To Henry, she whispered, “If anything
goes wrong, will you please call the police or my family? Someone will
need to take care of the cats and dogs.”
“Nothing is going to go wrong. I'll
be right here.”
She pushed the towels back in front
of him and closed the closet door. There was another knocking, louder.
She patted her belt to make sure the gun was there. Then she took a deep
breath and picked up the bundled flannel sheet. Pretending to be struggling
with the weight, she opened the door.
“Clear the way! I don't want to see
anybody in this house!” She could hear the rustling of many retreating
feet. She peeked cautiously out the door. All clear.
There was so much adrenaline in her
system, it was difficult to go slowly. The bundle was almost weightless.
She mimicked the difficulty she had had dragging Henry from the darkroom.
It was probable that none of them could see her anyway. If she went slowly
she would be fine. They knew where she was but they couldn't really see
what she was doing.
The red balloon was bouncing at its
tether outside the front door. The little package of explosives was already
attached. All she needed to do was attach the rope to the ‘body’
and douse it with the accelerant that was there in a bottle on the steps.
Edna tied the bundle very securely to the balloon. She spotted shadows
and flickers of movement out of the corners of her eyes. They were all
around her and they were all watching the balloon.
She untied it and held it with both
hands. Then she let it go. As fast as she could, she snatched the gun
out of her belt and began firing into the air. They wouldn't know what
she was pointing it at but they certainly wouldn't be looking at the balloon.
She waited and then fired the gun one more time. The balloon was above
the house, clear of their ability to see.
Laying the gun on the porch, she went
inside. In the bedroom, she looked out the window. The balloon was above
the clouds. Edna took off her glasses and lay down. After a moment, she
put her glasses back on. She watched the door. Five minutes later, a figure
appeared there.
“Close your eyes,” he said. She
continued to stare, unblinking.
He crept toward her, then stopped.
“Turn your head away.”
“I see you,” she said. “I
know what you are.” Then she turned her head and looked out the window.
A breeze was bending the treetops against the indigo sky. She felt a prick
in her arm.
 dna never woke
up. Maybe something went wrong. Maybe Henry changed his mind. Or maybe,
when Henry was unconscious on the darkroom floor, Edna took his tube of
antidote, emptied it into the sink, and then put it back in his pocket.
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