“Let me see what you’ve made, if you would,” Roland said.

Frank Tavery said, “We hope it’s all right. Might not be. We were afraid, do ya. It’s such a wonderful piece of paper the missus gave us, we were afraid.”

“We drew on the ground first,” Francine said. “Then in lightest char. ’Twas Frank did the final; my hands were all a-shake.”

“No fear,” Roland said. Eddie drew close and looked over his shoulder. The map was a marvel of detail, with the Town Gathering Hall and the common at the center and the Big River/Devar-Tete running along the left side of the paper, which looked to Eddie like an ordinary mimeo sheet. The kind available by the ream at any office supply store in America.

“Kids, this is absolutely terrific,” Eddie said, and for a moment he thought Francine Tavery might actually faint.

“Aye,” Roland said. “You’ve done a great service. And now I’m going to do something that will probably look like blasphemy to you. You know the word?”

“Yes,” Frank said. “We’re Christians. ‘Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God or His Son, the Man Jesus, in vain.’ But blasphemy is also to commit a rude act upon a thing of beauty.”

His tone was deeply serious, but he looked interested to see what blasphemy the outworlder meant to commit. His sister did, too.

Roland folded the paper—which they had almost dared not touch, in spite of their obvious skill—in half. The children gasped. So did Rosalita Munoz, although not quite as loudly.

“It’s not blasphemy to treat it so because it’s no longer just paper,” Roland said. “It has become a tool, and tools must be protected. D’ye ken?”

“Yes,” they said, but doubtfully. Their confidence was at least partly restored by the care with which Roland stowed the folded map in his purse.

“Thankya big-big,” Roland said. He took Francine’s hand in his left, Frank’s in his diminished right. “You may have saved lives with your hands and eyes.”

Francine burst into tears. Frank held his own back until he grinned. Then they overspilled and ran down his freckled cheeks.

Seven

Walking back to the church steps, Eddie said: “Good kids. Talented kids.”

Roland nodded.

“Can you see one of them coming back from Thunderclap a drooling idiot?”

Roland, who could see it all too well, made no reply.

Eight

Susannah accepted Roland’s decision that she and Eddie should stay outside the church with no argument, and the gunslinger found himself remembering her reluctance to enter the vacant lot. He wondered if part of her was afraid of the same thing he was. If that was the case, the battle— herbattle—had already begun.

“How long before I come in and drag you out?” Eddie asked.

“Before we come in and drag you out?” Susannah corrected him.