“Don’t even nod your head or blink your eyes. Shut yourself up inside yourself and think about something else. Don’t listen to them. Count things, remember things. Try to remember all the shoes you’ve ever owned, all the shoes you’ve worn all the way back as far as your memory goes. Or count the shows you’ve seen. The movies. Try to think of the titles. But don’t let their words get through to you.”

Her eyes were big now. “You’ve done that?”

He nodded. “I had to. Somebody told me about it a long time ago, and it’s the only way to beat them. Just don’t listen.”

She went back to staring through the windshield. Eddie was driving aimlessly. He was scared all the way through, sick over the old woman’s death, and if he’d had his way would have headed out of town as fast as the jalopp would take them. But of course they had to go back for Skip. Skip was still trying to find the money.

They were in the hills above Altadena now, on a rough rutted road. Eddie looked around, seeing the sudden dropping away of lights. They had come to a section where new homes were being built. A cluster of red lanterns loomed up ahead, topping the piled earth of a new excavation. Eddie braked to a halt.

Karen roused and looked out. Some of the houses were just framework buttressed with chimneys, not roofed over. Others were almost completed. Karen said tonelessly, “Look, it’s a new neighborhood.”

“I’ve got to turn around, go back. We can’t get past that ditch.”

Karen was looking out now with a touch of interest. “No, let’s stop here for a while. We’ve got to wait somewhere. Do you think there’s a watchman out here?”

“I don’t know. Probably not,” Eddie answered, thinking of the times he and Skip had stolen things out of unfinished houses. Karen was opening the car door on her side. “Where are you going?”

She said, “I just want to get out of the car. I just want some fresh air.” She stood with her head back, looking at the stars, and then moved off across the dark, rubble-dotted ground. Eddie doused the lights, got out, shut the car door. It was quite dark here now; there were crickets in the distance that only seemed to emphasize the silence around them. The red lanterns at the excavations in the distance looked like glowing coals. He could make out Karen, a dim shape under the starshine, going toward a half-finished place with a big front porch. She sat down there facing the street, put her elbows on her knees, leaned her face on her palms. She looked small and unutterably lonely.

“Why do things happen . . . the way they happen?” she asked when Eddie sat down close beside her.