An unbearable howl erupts from the mist and Dirk has to put his hands to his ears. He drops the lamppost as he does. His hands feel fat. His ears feel phony.

Without the light, it feels like a thousand mouths are at the bars, whispering directions.

Dirk struggles to bend at the waist—his body is unevenly bloated—but he takes hold of the lamppost again and says, This is not the end.

Then he’s moving again and some of the children follow.

Dirk can’t look over his shoulder but he knows only five or six are still with him now. A few remain with the people from the outside. Listening to their whispers.

Did he tell you anything? a boy asks, short on breath they are moving so fast.

I didn’t let him, Dirk says.

You should have. It was interesting.

Yeah?

The boy catches up to Dirk.

Yeah. He told me that to be your own boss means something else than what people mean when they say it.

Dirk stops and turns to face the boy. What?

I told you, the boy says. It’s—

But what does it mean? Dirk says.

It doesn’t mean you want to be your own boss. It means you want to be the master of your own mind.

Dirk stares hard into the child’s eyes. He is no longer looking at the boy at all. His eyes glaze over. What the boy said means a great deal to him.

Thank you, Dirk whispers.

He continues. The children follow.

They race through the corridor now. The air from the outside is colder. Dirk doesn’t look through the bars anymore. His clumsy body doesn’t concern him now. He can feel the end is close. He forgets the children are with him and then he remembers the children are with him and then he forgets. He thinks of the Mixed-up Man and he tells himself he’s got to remember things. He reminds himself of everything. He reminds himself to remember. He refuses to forget the end.

He has no idea how fast or slow he’s actually going. Passing bars. Metallic echoes. A boy tugs at Dirk’s pants.

What is it?

Mine was different, the boy says.

They are moving so fast now.

What do you mean?

Dirk worries for a moment that he can’t remember what the kid is talking about and that he should be able to.

The boy says, The whispers I heard. The things I was told.

What did they tell you? Dirk asks, running.

They told me that freedom is doing something you would never ordinarily do. Freedom is leaving the person you’re used to being behind. Real freedom is doing something so dreadful that you have no choice but to turn your back on yourself. Do you understand?

Dirk wants to stop. He wants to address this child. He wants to tell him that what he heard back there was horribly wrong.