But it wasn’t over for me yet. I sat there in the darkness, trembling, unable to think coherently, sure that the General would come. Maybe he was in the car already. In the back seat or maybe even sitting beside me. Then I had an even more terrible thought. Maybe Duff would come.

There was a knock on the car window. My heart stopped. I opened my mouth to scream again but now I couldn’t make a sound.

Then a voice called, “Don’t be scared, lady. Is anything wrong? Can I help you?”

I opened my eyes and turned my head. A young man—a perfectly normal-­looking young man—was standing there staring anxiously at me. He seemed to be about Duff’s age.

“I can’t get this car started,” I managed to shout.

“Let me try.”

I got out and he got in and turned the key.

“Battery’s dead. Do you live here, ma’am?”

“I used to.”

“I’m Jeff Duncan. I live up the road. I could get my car—”

“No, no, don’t leave!”

“It’s raining, ma’am. Is there anyone in the house?”

“No.” No?

“Does anyone know you’re here?”

“A friend of mine in Cainesville.”

“Do you think your friend might come after you?”

“Probably in a while.” It was raining hard now.

“Maybe we ought to wait inside until your friend comes.” He took my arm and I went with him to the front door and into the house.

We took our coats off. He sat on the settee and I sat in Jack’s chair. He told me he was a senior at Cainesville High and that he had known Duff casually. He said that even though Duff had been at the school only a few months, all the kids seemed to like him and that a memorial service for him had been held in the gymnasium. He knew that would please me.

He said that when the rain stopped we could both walk up the road to his house. Then he would get his father’s car and drive me back to Cainesville. I didn’t ask him how he happened to be walking on the road in the rain.

I suggested a cup of tea. I couldn’t have made cocoa. He said he usually didn’t drink tea, but it might be nice now. I went out to the kitchen, filled the kettle and waited for the water to boil. When I turned back to the table, the General was sitting there, grinning at me.

I shrieked, I think, and ran into the front room. Jeff Duncan was gone. Mrs. Reddy and Mrs. Weber were standing in front of the door, blocking it.

There was nowhere to go but up the stairs. I went up slowly and fearfully, looking back at the two as they began to follow me. And now the flute music began again.