ebendingdownandwhisperingsomethingtotheman,anameperhaps,andhelookedstartledandslightlyembarrassedtobecaughtsleeping.Whenhiseyespoppedopen,helookedevenmorelikemyfather,butshewasdefinitelynotmymother.Sheflashedacrookedsmileandliftedherbabyoverthebars,andthechildcooedandlaughedandthrewhisarmsaroundhismothersneck.Ihadheardthatsoundbefore.Themanswitchedoffthesole,butbeforejoinihers,hecametothewindow,clearedacirclewithhistwohandsagainstthedamppanes,andpeeredoutintothedarkness.Idonotthinkhesawus,butIsurelyhadseenhimbefore.

    Wecircledbatothewoodsandwaiteduntilthemoonwashighinthenightskyandmostofthelightspoppedoffgoodnight.Thehousesintheringweredarkandquiet.

    "Idontlikethis,"Isaid,mybreathvisibleinthevioletlight.

    "Youworryyourownlifeawaylikeakittenworriesastring,"Smaolachsaid.

    Hebarked,andwefollowedhimdowntothecul-de-sac.Smaolachchoseahousewithnothedriveway,wherewewerenotlikelytoenteranyhumans.Carefulnottowakeanyone,weslippedinsideeasilythroughtheunlockedfrontdoor.Arowofshoesstoodofftothesideofthefoyer,andLuchógimmediatelytriedonpairsuntilhefoundafit.Theirboywouldbedismayedinthem.Thekitlayinsightofthefoyer,throughasmallishdiningroom.Eachofusloadedarucksackwithedfruitsaables,flour,salt,andsugar.Luchógjammedfistfulsofteabagsintohistrouserpocketsandonthewayoutcoppedapackageofcigarettesandaboxofmatchesfromthesideboard.Inandoutinminutes,disturbingnoone.

    Thesedhouse—wherethebabyinbluelived—provedstubborn.Allofthedoorsanddownstairswindowsw