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.Maybe it was that I wanted thereto be something in Liesle's play-pretend."Am I as warm as the beasts?"I felt her startled withdrawal.It was like having a spring suddenly coilbeside me."What are they going to do when it starts snowing again?" I asked into theawkward silence."I don't know," said Liesle slowly."I don't know any beasts.Besides theirfur would keep them warm.""It looks like just grass to me," I said."Grass withers when cold weatherPage 92 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlcomes.""It's 'sposed to look like grass," said Liesle."So's no one will noticethem.""What are they?" I asked."Where did they come from?""I don't know any beasts," said Liesle."I'm going to sleep."And she did.Liesle might as well have gone on home for all the outdoor activity she gotthat week with us.Bad weather came pouring through the pass in the mountains,and we had rain and fog and thunder and hail and a horrible time trying tokeep the kids amused.My idle words had stuck in Liesle's mind and festered inthe inactivity.She peered incessantly out of the tent flap asking, "How longwill it rain? Is it cold out there? It won't snow will it? Will there be ice?"And when we had a brief respite after a roaring hailstorm and went out togather up the tapioca-sized stones by the buckets-full, Liesle filled bothhands and, clutching the hail tightly, raced over to the small hills.I caughtup with her as she skidded to a stop on the muddy trail.She was staring at the beast-hills, frosted lightly with the hail.She turnedher deep eyes to me."It's ice," she said tragically."Yes," I said."Little pieces of ice."She opened her hands and stared at her wet palms."It's gone," she said."Your hands are warm," I explained."Warmness melts the ice," she said, her eyes glowing."They're warm."'They could melt the little ice," I acknowledged."But if it really froze ""I told them to go back," said Liesle."The next time it's open.""What's open?" I asked."Well," said Liesle."It's down the path to the Little House.It's therock it's a empty it's to go through " She slapped her hand back and forthacross her pants legs, ridding them of the melted hail.Her bottom lip waspouted, her eyes hidden."It doesn't go into any place," she said."It onlygoes through." Anger flared suddenly and she kicked the nearest hill."Stupidbeasts!" she cried."Why didn't you stay home!"We started packing the day before we were to leave.Liesle scurried aroundwith Jinnie, getting under foot and messing things up generally.So I gavethem a lot of leftover odds and ends of canned goods and a box to put them inand they spent hours packing and unpacking.I had dismissed them from my mindand submerged myself in the perennial problem of how to get back into thesuitcases what they had originally contained.So I was startled to feel a coldhand on my elbow.I looked around into Liesle's worried face."What if they don't know the way back?" she asked."Of course they know the way back," I said."They've driven it a dozen times.""No, I mean the beasts." She clutched me again."They'll die in the winter.""Winter's a long way off," I said."They'll be all right.""They don't count like we do," said Liesle."Winter's awful close.""Oh, Liesle, child," I said, exasperated."Let's not play that now.I'mABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlPage 88much too busy.""I'm not playing," she said, her cheeks flushing faintly, her eyes refusing toleave mine."The beasts ""Please, honey lamb," I said."You finish your packing and let me finishmine." And I slammed the suitcase on my hand."But the beasts ""Beasts!" I said indistinctly as I tried to suck the pain out of my fingers."They're big enough to take care of themselves.""They're just baby ones!" she cried."And they're lost, 'relse'n they'd havegone home when it was open."Page 93 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Then go tell them the way," I said, surveying dismally the sweat shirt andslacks that should have been in the case I had just closed.She was out ofsight by the time I got to the tent door.I shook my head.That should teachme to stick to Little Red Riding Hood or the Gingerbread Boy.Beasts, indeed!Late that evening came a whopper of a storm.It began with a sprinkle so lightthat it was almost a mist.And then, as though a lever were being steadilydepressed, the downpour increased, minute by minute.In direct proportion, thelight drained out of the world.Everyone was snugly under canvas by the timethe rain had become a downpour except Liesle."I know where she is," I said with a sigh, and snatched my fleece-lined jacketand ducked out into the rain.I'd taken about two steps before my shoes weresquelching water and the rain was flooding my face like a hose.I had sploshedjust beyond the tents when a dripping wet object launched itself against meand knocked me staggering back against a pine tree."They won't come!" sobbed Liesle, her hair straight and lank, streaming waterdown her neck."I kept talking to them and talking to them, but they won'tcome.They say it isn't open and if it was they wouldn't know the way!"She was shaking with sobs and cold."Come in out of the wet," I said, patting her back soggily."Everything willbe okay." I stuck my head into the cook tent."I got 'er.Have to wring herout first" And we ducked into the sleep tent."I told them right over this way and across the creek " her voice was muffledas I stripped her T-shirt over her head.'They can't see right over this wayand they don't know what a creek is.They see on top of us.""On top?" I asked, fumbling for a dry towel."Yes!" sobbed Liesle."We're in the middle.They see mostly on top of us andthen there's us and then there's an underneath.They're afraid they might fallinto us or the underneath.We're all full of holes around here.""They're already in us," I said, guiding her icy feet into the flannel pajamalegs."We can see them.""Only part," she said."Only the Here part.The There part is so'st we can'tsee it." I took her on my lap and surrounded her with my arms and she leanedagainst me, slowly warming, but with the chill still shaking her at intervals
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