The Anything Box

when she yelled at Mommy. 'You'd better learn tocontrol that brat of yours or he'll grow up a murderer! Look what he did to mypoor Arnold!' And she drove away so fast that she hit the chuckhole by thegate and nearly went off the road.
Mommy sat down on the front step and took Stevie between her knees. Stevielooked down and traced a little, soft magic with his finger on Mommy's slacks.
'What happened, Stevie?'
Stevie squirmed. 'Nothing, Mommy. We were just playing in the wash.'
'Why did you hurt Arnold?'
'I didn't. Honest. I didn't even touch him.'
'But the whole side of his face was skinned.' Mommy put on herno-fooling-now voice. 'Tell me what happened, Stevie.'
Stevie gulped. 'Well, Arnold was bragging ’bout his two-wheel bike and—'Stevie got excited and looked up. 'And Mommy, he has a cat withthree-and-a-half legs!'
'Go on.'
Stevie leaned against her again.
'Well, I've got a Dark in a hole in the wash so I—'
'A Dark? What is that?'
'It's, it's just a Dark. It isn't very nice. I keep it in its hole withmagic. I let it out a little bit to show Arnold and it hurt him. But it washis fault. He uncrossed his fingers.'
Mommy sighed. 'What really happened, Stevie?'
'I told you, Mommy! Honest, that's what happened.'
'For True, Stevie?' She looked right in his eyes.
Stevie looked right back. 'Yes, Mommy, For True.'
She sighed again. 'Well, son, I guess this Dark business is the same asyour Mr. Bop and Toody Troot.'
'Uh, uh!' Stevie shook his head. 'No sir. Mr. Bop and Toody Troot are nice.The Dark is bad.'
'Well, don't play with it any more then.'
'I don't play with it,' protested Stevie. 'I just keep it shut up withmagic.'
'All right, son.' She stood up and brushed the dust off the back of herslacks. 'Only for the love of Toody Troot, don't let Arnold get hurt again.'She smiled at Stevie.
Stevie smiled back. 'Okay, Mommy. But it was his fault. He uncrossed hisfingers. He's a baby.'
The next time Stevie was in the wash playing cowboy on Burro Eddie, he
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heard The Dark calling him. It called so sweet and soft that anybody would
think it was something nice, but Stevie could feel the bad rumble way down
under the nice, so he made sure his pocket piece was handy, shooed Eddie away,
and went down to the hole and squatted down in front of it.
The Dark stood up behind the magic rocks and it had made itself look like
Arnold only its eyes didn't match and it had forgotten one ear and it was
freckled all over like Arnold's face.
'Hello,' said The Dark with its Arnold-mouth. 'Let's play.'
'No,' said Stevie. 'You can't fool me. You're still The Dark.'
'I won't hurt you.' The Arnold-face stretched out sideways to make a smile,
but it wasn't a very good one. 'Let me out and I'll show you how to have lots
of fun.'
'No,' said Stevie. 'If you weren't bad, the magic couldn't hold you. I
don't want to play with bad things.'
'Why not?' asked The Dark. 'Being bad is fun sometimes—lots of fun.'
'I guess it is,' said Stevie, 'but only if it's a little bad. A big bad
makes your stomach sick and you have to have a spanking or a sit-in-the-corner
and then a big loving from Mommy or Daddy before it gets well again.'
'Aw, come on,' said The Dark. 'I'm lonesome. Nobody ever comes to play with
me. I like you. Let me out and I’ll give you a two-wheel bike.'
'Really?' Stevie felt all warm inside. 'For True?'
'For True. And a cat with three-and-a-half legs.'
'Oh!' Stevie felt like Christmas morning. 'Honest?'
'Honest. All you have to do is take away the rocks and break up your pocket
piece and I'll fix everything for you.'
'My pocket piece?' The warmness was going away. 'No sir, I won't either
break it up. It's the magicest thing I've got and it was hard to make.'
'But I can give you some better magic.'
'Nothing can be more magic.' Stevie tightened his hand around his pocket
piece. 'Anyway, Daddy said I might get a two-wheel bike for my birthday. I'll
be six years old. How old are you?'
The Dark moved back and forth. 'I'm as old as the world.'
Stevie laughed. 'Then you must know Auntie Phronie. Daddy says she's as old
as the hills.'
'The hills are young,' said The Dark. 'Come on, Stevie, let me out.
Please—pretty please.'
'Well,' Stevie reached for the pretty red rock. 'Promise you'll be good.'
'I promise.'
Stevie hesitated. He could feel a funniness in The Dark's voice. It sounded
like Lili-cat when she purred to the mice she caught. It sounded like
Pooch-pup when he growled softly to the gophers he ate sometimes. It made
Stevie feel funny inside and, as he squatted there wondering what the feeling
was, lightning flashed brightly above the treetops and a few big raindrops
splashed down with the crash of thunder.
'Well,' said Stevie, standing up, feeling relieved. 'It's going to rain. I
can't play with you now. I have to go. Maybe I can come see you tomorrow.'
'No, now!' said The Dark. 'Let me out right now!' and its Arnold-face was
all twisted and one eye was slipping down one cheek.
Stevie started to back away, his eyes feeling big and scared. 'Another
time. I can't play in the wash when it storms. There might be a flood.'
'Let me out!' The Dark was getting madder. The Arnold-face turned purple
and its eyes ran down its face like sick fire and it melted back into
blackness again. 'Let me out!' The Dark hit the magic so hard that it shook
the sand and one of the rocks started to roll. Quick like a rabbit, Stevie
pressed the rock down hard and fixed all the others too. Then The Dark
twisted itself into a thing so awful looking that Stevie's stomach got sick
and he wanted to upchuck. He took out his pocket piece and drew three hard
magics in the sand and The Dark screamed so hard that Stevie screamed, too,
and ran home to Mommy and was very sick.
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Mommy put him to bed and gave him some medicine to comfort his stomach andtold Daddy he'd better buy Stevie a hat. The sun was too hot for a towheaded,bareheaded boy in the middle of July.
Stevie stayed away from the wash for a while after that, but one day Burro