(7)

Dorothy knew that her younger son had changed and was acting strangely.

“Billy wasn’t Billy at times,” she recalled later. “He was moody, he was off to himself. I would say something to him and he wouldn’t answer me, like he was far off and thinking about it, staring into space. He would go wandering downtown like he used to when he would sleepwalk. He’d do it from school. Sometimes if they caught him in school before he had a chance to wander off, they would keep him and call for me to come and get him. Sometimes he’d just leave and they’d call me. I’d go looking for him everywhere, find him wandering downtown and bring him home, and I’d say to him, ‘Okay, Billy, you go lay down.’ But that child didn’t even know which direction his bedroom was. I’d go in there and I’d think, ‘My God!’ ‘Well, how do you feel?’ I’d ask him when he’d wake up. He’d look real bewildered and say, ‘Did I stay home today?’

“And I’d say, ‘No, Billy, you did not stay home today. Don’t you remember me coming after you? You were at school and Mr. Young called me and I come up to the school after you. Don’t remember coming home with me?’

“He’d look dazed and nod and say, ‘Oh.’

“ ‘Don’t you remember?’

“ ‘I guess I just wasn’t feeling well today.’

“They tried to tell me it was drug-related,” Dorothy said, “but I knew it wasn’t. That boy never took drugs. He wouldn’t even take an aspirin. I’d have to fight him to take medicine. Sometimes he’d come home on his own, confused and in a trace. He wouldn’t talk to me until he had a nap. Then he’d come out and it would be my Billy again. I told them. I told everyone, Thaf boy needs help.’”

(8)

Arthur appeared in school occasionally to correct a teacher when they were studying world history, especially when the subject was England and the Colonies. He spent most of his time in the Lancaster Public Library, reading. There was more to be gained from books and firsthand experience than from these narrow-minded, provincial teachers.

The schoolteacher’s explanation of the Boston Tea Party made Arthur angry. He had read the truth in a Canadian book called The Raw Facts, which debunked the phony patriotic explanation for what had really been a group of drunken sailors. But when Arthur spoke, everyone laughed, and he walked out of the class, leaving the sound of giggling behind him. He went back to the library, where he knew the pretty librarian wouldn’t laugh at his accent.

Arthur knew very well there were others around, because as he checked the dates on the calendar, he knew something was wrong. According to everything he read and observed, other people didn’t sleep as long as he seemed to be sleeping.

He began to question people. “What did I do yesterday?” he would ask Kathy or Jim or Challa or Dorothy. Their descriptions of his behavior would be completely strange to him. He would have to check it out by logical deduction.