Strangers

posters was torn. The dresser mirror was cracked.
        Seeing the direction of his gaze, Emmy said, "It was scary at first. But it calmed down, and now it's just… fun. Isn't it fun?"
        As she was speaking, the flute rose out of the open carrying case, up and up, until it was about seven feet off the floor, only a few feet to the left of the floating teddy bears. Out of the corner of her eye, the girl caught a glimpse of the rising instrument. When she turned to look directly at the flute, sweet music began to issue from it, not just random notes but a well-executed tune. Emmy jumped up and down on the bed excitedly. "That's 'Annie's Song'! I used to play that."
        "You're playing it now," Stefan said.
        "Oh, no," she said, still staring at the flute. "My hands got so bad, my knuckle joints, that I had to give up the flute a year ago. I'm cured now, but my hands still aren't good enough to play."
        Stefan said, "But you aren't using your hands to play it, Emmy."
        His meaning finally penetrated. She looked down at him. "Me?"
        Deprived of her focused attention, the flute produced only a few more poorly executed notes and fell silent. It still hung in the air, but now it bobbled and dipped erratically. Emmy returned her attention to the instrument. It steadied in the air and began to play again.
        "Me," she said wonderingly. She turned to her sister, who was still paralyzed by fear and amazement. "Me," Emmy said, then looked at her parents, who were standing in the doorway. "Me!"
        Stefan appreciated what the child must be feeling, and his throat was pinched so tightly with emotion that he had difficulty swallowing. A month ago, she'd been a cripple, unable to dress herself, with nothing to look forward to except further deterioration, pain, and death. Now she was not only cured and her damaged bones reknit, but she was also in possession of this spectacular gift.
        Father Wycazik wanted to tell her that somehow this gift had been given to her unwittingly by Brendan Cronin, her Pudge, but then he would have to explain where Brendan had gotten his gift, and he could not do that. Besides, he hadn't time even to tell them what he did know. It was nine-fifteen. He should have been in Evanston by now. Time was of the essence, for Stefan was beginning to suspect that he would be catching a flight for Nevada before the day ended. Whatever was happening in Elko County was bound to be even more incredible than what was happening here, and he was determined to be a part of it.
        Emmy looked at the floating bears, and they resumed their formal dance once more. She giggled.
        Stefan thought about what Winton Tolk had said only a short while ago in the Mendozas' Uptown apartment: The power's still here, still in me. I know… I feel it. And not just… not just the power to heal. There's more. Winton had not known what powers he might possess in addition to the healing touch, but Stefan suspected that the policeman was in for some surprises similar to those that had thrown the Halbourg household into turmoil.
        "Father, will you do it yourself?" Mr. Halbourg asked from the doorway, where he stood with his wife, his voice sharp with anxiety.
        Mrs. Halbourg said, "Please, we want it to be done as soon as possible. Immediately. Can't you begin at once?"
        Baffled, Stefan said, "I'm sorry… but what is it you want done?"
        Mr. Halbourg said, "An exorcism, of course!"
        Stefan stared at them incredulously, only now fully realizing why they had been in such distress when he had arrived and why they had greeted him with such relief. He laughed. "There won't be any need for an exorcism. This isn't Satan at work. Oh, no. My heavens, no!"
        From the corner of his eye, Stefan saw movement on the floor. He looked down at a two-foot-high teddy bear that was tottering past him on stiff little stuffed legs.
        Winton Tolk had said that he sensed he would need a long time to learn what his powers were and to be able to control them. Either he was wrong or the task was far easier for Emmy than for him. That might be the case. Children were much more adaptable than adults.
        Emmy's parents and her other sister edged into the room, fascinated but wary.
        Stefan understood their wariness. All seemed well, the power benign. But the situation was so awesome, so profoundly affecting on a primitive level, that even