called softly to Tony。
〃Sleeping；〃 Tony said。 〃Sleeping in your mommy and daddy's bedroom。〃 There was
sadness in Tony's voice。
〃Danny；〃 Tony said。 〃Your mother is going to be badly hurt。 Perhaps killed。
Mr。 Hallorann； too。〃
〃No！〃
He cried it out in a distant grief； a terror that seemed damped by these
dreamy； dreary surroundings。 Nonetheless； death images came to him： dead frog
plastered to the turnpike like a grisly stamp； Daddy's broken watch lying on top
of a box of junk to be thrown out； gravestones with a dead person under every
one； dead jay by the telephone pole； the cold junk Mommy scraped off the plates
and down the dark maw of the garbage disposal。
Yet he could not equate these simple symbols with the shifting plex reality
of his mother； she satisfied his childish definition of eternity。 She had been
when he was not。 She would continue to be when he was not again。 He could accept
the possibility of his own death； he had dealt with that since the encounter in
Room 217。
But not hers。
Not Daddy's。
Not ever。
He began to struggle； and the darkness and the hallway began to waver。 Tony's
form became chimerical； indistinct。
〃Don't！〃 Tony called。 〃Don't； Danny； don't do that！〃
〃She's not going to be dead！ She's not！〃
〃Then you have to help her。 Danny 。。。 you're in a place deep down in your
own mind。 The place where I am。 I'm a part of you； Danny。〃
〃You're Tony。 You're not me。 I want my mommy * 。 。 I want my mommy。。。 〃
〃I didn't bring you here； Danny。 You brought yourself。 Because you knew。〃
〃No — 〃
〃You've always known；〃 Tony continued； and he began to walk closer。 For