One of the women teachers came in. When she saw him, she left, returning in a little while with his trousers.

“Those girls should be whipped, Billy,” she said.

“I guess it was the guys that put ’em up to it,” Billy said.

“You’re such a big, strong boy,” she said. “How could you let them do that to you?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t hit a girl.”

Then he shuffled off, knowing he would never again dare face the girls in his classroom. He wandered the halls. There was no sense in going on living. He looked up, noticing the workmen had left open the door to the passageway that led to the roof. Then he knew. Slowly he walked through the empty halls, up the staircase, out the door onto the roof. It was cold. He sat down and wrote a note inside the cover of his book: “Good-by, sorry, but I can’t take it anymore.”

He put the book on the ledge, then backed up to get a running start. He got ready, took a deep breath and ran …

Before he reached the edge of the building, Ragen slammed him to the ground.

“I say, that was close,” Arthur whispered.

“What we do with him?” Ragen asked. “Is dangerous to let him walking around like this.”

“He is a danger to all of us. In his depressed state, he might succeed in killing himself.”

“Vat is solution?”

“Keep him asleep.”

“How?”

“From this moment forward, Billy is not to hold the consciousness again.”

“Who can control it?”

“You or I. We’ll share the responsibility. I’ll spread the word to the others that no one is to allow him to take the consciousness under any circumstances. When things are going along their fairly normal course, in relative safety, I’ll control things. If we find ourselves in a dangerous environment, you take over. Between us we will determine who may or may not hold the consciousness.”

“I agree,” said Ragen. He looked down at the page in the book on which Billy had written his suicide note. He tore out the page, ripped it into pieces and threw it into the wind. “I will be protector,” he said. “It was not right for Billy to endanger lives of children.”

Then Ragen thought of something. “Who will speak? Other people laugh when they hear my accent. And yours too.” Arthur nodded. “I’ve thought of that. Allen has, as the Irish say, ‘kissed the Blarney stone.’ He can do the talking for us. I think as long as we control things and keep the secret from the rest of the world, we should be able to survive.”

Arthur explained matters to Allen. Then he spoke to the children and tried to help them understand what was going on.

“Think of it,” he said, “as if all of us—a lot of people, including many you have never met—are in a dark room. In the center of this room is a bright spot of light on the floor. Whoever steps into this light, onto the spot, is out in the real world and holds the consciousness. That’s the person other people see and hear and react to. The rest of us can go about our regular interests, study or sleep or talk or play. But whoever is out must be very careful he or she doesn’t reveal the existence of the others. It is a family secret.”