Small World (48 page)

Lucy smiled wanly.

‘How is your father taking it?’

‘He thinks I’ve finally turned my brains into oatmeal, sniffing glue. He entrusts me gratefully to Nick, believing a good steady man will at least look after me.’

‘Little does .he suspect,’ Nick murmured, ‘who looks after whom.’

‘Do we have to talk about this anymore?’ Lucy said in a tiny, finished voice.

Sartoris sighed, patted her hand. ‘Not much more. Let’s go to my studio.’

She stood up, whipping the sunglasses from her face. It was still bruised, and purple shadows were pooled under her eyes.

‘I want to see them,’ she whispered.

Carousel music, high and faint and so distant it might be coming from another world, reached their ears before they entered the studio.

The dollhouse, with much of the fire damage already repaired, sat in a former sandbox that was now a garden more wonderful than the house had ever been. The Carousel, in the middle of a maze of roses, raspberries, and sunflowers, turned round and round, pumping out its tinny music. The children rode the horse, her children, who did not see her, but went on playing at knights

and queens.

Lucy cried out once, but Sartoris hushed her, and drew her a little away. ‘There’s more to settle. The sounds of our voices are harsh on their ears. You have not asked, so I did not tell you. Tinker lived, too, despite a nasty loss of blood. He has a workshop in the dollhouse, and works there nearly all the time. He is trying to find a way to reverse the process. We have had conversations. He has instructed me in the use and repair of this gadget and told me such of the whole truth as he knew. He takes good care of the children, with the help that Ethelyn and I give him.’

Lucy’s hands flew to her mouth. ‘That monster!’

Sartoris considered her for a moment, as if he were memorizing her. Then he shuffled to his old desk and drew out the minimizer from the drawer in which he kept his Wild Turkey.

‘The process is irreversible at this moment. If anyone can ever doit, it is that little man. Yes, he is a sort of monster. He confesses he knows very little about the long-term effects. It’s possible, he says, that he will have the natural life span of a mouse, or some other small rodent.’

Lucy looked at him calmly. ‘Please,’ she said softly.

Nick reached for her again, as if to restrain her. She let him hold her, kissed his cheek, and stepped out of his arms. He covered his eyes.

After she was minimized and placed on a bed inside the dollhouse, under the ministrations of Roger Tinker, the two men stood and watched the Carousel’s gyrations for a while.

At last the son turned to his father. ‘My turn,’ he said, trying to joke.

The old man hesitated. ‘Nicholas,'I’m very old. I’m not the man I was at seventy-five. I doubt I have as much as five years left. Every day I feel how much I’ve slipped, .how much I’ve lost. Who will take care of you? And them?’

‘There’s Ethelyn. And Lucy’s father. He’ll believe when he sees.’

Sartoris gave in. It would be done. They embraced. .

‘Good-bye,’ Nick whispered, ‘I love you. Remember I’m not going very far. We’ll be closer than we’ve been in years. And don’t worry about us. We’ll survive.’

And they did.