“The very fact it’s possible, though,” said Owen, “makes it difficult to believe any aspect of the night world.”

“Everything is mutable, not exactly what it’s made out to be, and neither completely one way or the other. There’s always room for change and speculation, even in the waking world. It’s part of the human condition. The same goes for the night.”

He nodded and paused before asking, “What are we going to do tonight?”

“Let’s visit some of your fellow citizens.”

“You mean go into people’s houses? Isn’t that wrong?”

“You were in your neighbor’s house the other night. I didn’t see you hesitate.” Melody pointed two houses up the street.

“I was chasing you,” he said.

“Did you learn anything?”

“I suppose, but spying on people isn’t my thing.”

“Don’t think of it as spying. It’s a unique opportunity to see the intimate aspects of others’ lives.”

“Shouldn’t they be private?”

“For the most part, yes. As a sleeper, you have a special responsibility to see how people live, and to know their joy and suffering. There’s nothing prurient about it. As a sleeper, you are called on to bear witness to the night.”

“Then why would the police arrest someone for peeping in another’s window?”

“That’s in the waking world. You have other responsibilities there.”

“Are you serious, Melody?” he asked. “That we’re expected to bear witness? But are we supposed to do something about whatever suffering or evil or joy we encounter?”

“Sometimes, if we can. It’s up to you.”

“Vague.”

“Come then,” she said, and stood. She led him, again, over the hedge, through the adjoining backyard, and to the street. “Choose a house at random,” she told him.

“Do people have to be awake? Does there need to be a lit window?”

She shook her head. “Any house is fine. Discoveries abound.”

Ten minutes later, they stood in a darkened room, leaning over a crib, watching a baby sleep. Owen made as if to push the mobile above the child, a herd of zebras, into motion, but his hand passed through it.

“So sweet,” said Melody.

They moved down the hall and found the parents’ room. A young couple slept in one another’s arms. The spring breeze blew in through the screen of the open window. A black dog in the corner of the room awoke and tracked the movements of the intruders. “Can it see us?” he asked.

“Maybe. Some can but not many.” That said, the dog started barking—loud, low—and fierce.

“Someone’s here,” said the woman in the bed.

Her partner stirred and said, “What was that?”

Melody walked through the wall to the outside and Owen quickly followed. They stepped off from the second story and floated like feathers to the ground.

“What did you make of that one?” she asked.

“Peaceful until we showed up,” he said.