Mrs. Novato took a patient, schoolmarmly breath. “Mr. Erskine,” she said, “I have already given Mr. Fenner far more leeway to investigate his suspicions than I should. Several of the children’s parents complained to the principal about that business of setting their nightmares down on paper, and as a result I came very close to losing my position. Apart from that, it does seem from what I hear that Mr. Fenner is suffering from—well, overwork.”

Mr. Saperstein walked past, and Mrs. Novato said, “Good morning, Mr. Saperstein.”

“Okay,” said Harry, “I can guess how you feel. But you can still do me that favor.”

“Mr. Erskine, let me assure you that nothing weird has ever happened in this class or is ever likely to. Now, please. I have enough on my hands conducting the correct number of children off to Lake Berryessa and back again, without troubling myself with weirdness.”

“Sure, I’ve got you,” said Harry. “But I’m staying with Mr. Fenner if you do want to call me.”

“I don’t want to call you.”

“But you might.”

Mrs. Novato closed her eyes and sought strength and fortitude under her lids. Then she said, “Very well, Mr. Erskine. Should I ever wish to call you, which will be never, I will know where not to do so.”

“That’s fine,” smiled Harry. “Now have a good trip, okay?”

Harry walked back to the pickup truck and climbed in, slamming the door behind him.

“Well?” said Neil.

“I just asked her to let us know if there was any trouble,” Harry told him. “Not that she’s likely to. She’s hidebound by educational bureaucracy, and apart from that she’s married.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Nothing much,” admitted Harry. “It’s just that I find it hard to work my charms on married women of Mrs. Novato’s age. They’re too old to be oversexed and too young to have husbands who can’t raise it.”

Neil started the motor. Before he released the brake, though, he took a last look at Toby through the dust-filmed windshield. His son was standing clutching his lunchbox, his blond hair as untidy as ever, in a blue windbreaker and denim shorts. The other children were gathered around him, and he was obviously talking to them about something lengthy and serious.

“I’ve got a feeling about today,” said Neil.

“You think today is the day?” asked Harry.

“I don’t know. But there’s a tenseness around. Don’t you feel it? Like there’s a storm brewing.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. But in any case, there isn’t much we can do until Singing Rock arrives. He said he’d be here by lunchtime.”