eyes were golden-yellow, all goldenyellow, with neither whites nor irises; all golden-yellow, with vertical black-slit pupils.
She looked at him.
He looked at her, golden-yellowly, and then at the swaying upside-down crucifix.
She looked at them watching her and knife-in-hand screamed at them,
“What have you done to his eyes?”
They stirred and looked to Roman.
“He has His Father’s eyes,” he said.
She looked at him, looked at Guy-whose eyes were hidden behind a hand -looked at Roman again. “What are you talking about?” she said. “Guy’s eyes are brown, they’re normal! What have you done to him, you maniacs?” She moved from the bassinet, ready to kill them.
“Satan is His Father, not Guy,” Roman said. “Satan is His Father, who came up from Hell and begat a Son of mortal woman! To avenge the iniquities visited by the God worshipers upon His never-doubting followers!”
“Hail Satan,” Mr. Wees said.
“Satan is His Father and His name is Adrian!” Roman cried, his voice growing louder and prouder, his bearing more strong and forceful. “He shall overthrow the mighty and lay waste their temples! He shall redeem the despised and wreak vengeance in the name of the burned and the tortured!”
“Hail Adrian,” they said. “Hail Adrian.” “Hail Adrian.” And “Hail Satan.” “Hail Satan.” “Hail Adrian.” “Hail Satan.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said.
Minnie said, “He chose you out of all the world, Rosemary. Out of all the women in the whole world, He chose you. He brought you and Guy to your apartment there, He made that foolish what’s-her-name, Terry, made her get all scared and silly so we had to change our plans, He arranged everything that had to be arranged, ‘cause He wanted you to be the mother of His only living Son.”
“His power is stronger than stronger,” Roman said.
“Hail Satan,” Helen Wees said.
“His might will last longer than longer.”
“Hair Satan,” the Japanese said.
Laura-Louise uncovered her mouth. Guy looked out at Rosemary from under his hand.
“No,” she said, “no,” the knife hanging at her side. “No. It can’t be. No.”
“Go look at His hands,” Minnie said. “And His feet.”
“And His tail,” Laura-Louise said.
“And the buds of His horns,” Minnie said.
“Oh God,” Rosemary said.
“God’s dead,” Roman said.
She turned to the bassinet, let fall the knife, turned back to the watching coven. “Oh God!” she said and covered her face. “Oh God!” And raised her fists and screamed to the ceiling: “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!”
“God is DEAD!” Roman thundered. “God is dead and Satan lives! The year is One, the first year of our Lord! The year is One, God is done! The year is One, Adrian’s begun!”
“Hail Satan!” they cried. “Hail Adrian!” “Hail Adrian!” “Hail Satan!”
She backed away-“No, no”-backed farther and farther away until she was between two bridge tables. A chair was behind her; she sat down on it and stared at them. “No.”
Mr. Fountain hurried out and down the hallway. Guy and Mr. Wees hurried after him.
Minnie went over and, grunting as she stooped, picked up the knife. She took it out to the kitchen.
Laura-Louise went to the bassinet and rocked it possessively, making faces into it. The black taffeta rustled; the wheels squeaked.
She sat there and stared. “No,” she said.
The dream. The dream. It had been true. The yellow eyes she had looked up into. “Oh God,” she said.
Roman came over to her. “Clare is just putting on,” he said, “holding his heart that way over Leah. He’s not that sorry. Nobody really liked her; she was stingy, emotionally as well as financially. Why don’t you help us out, Rosemary, be a real mother to Adrian; and we’ll fix it so you don’t get punished for killing her. So that nobody ever even finds out about it. You don’t have to join if you don’t want to; just be a mother to your baby.” He bent over and whispered: “Minnie and Laura-Louise are too old. It’s not right.”
She looked at him.
He stood straight again. “Think about it, Rosemary,” he said.
“I didn’t kill her,” she said..
“Oh?”
“I just gave her pills,” she said. “She’s asleep.”
“Oh,” he said.
The doorbell rang.
“Excuse me,” he said, and went to answer it. “Think about it anyway,” he said over his shoulder.
“Oh God,” she said.
“Shut up with your ‘Oh God’s’ or we’ll kill you,” Laura-Louise said, rocking the bassinet. “Milk or no milk.”
“You shut up,” Helen Wees said, coming to Rosemary and putting a dampened handkerchief in her hand. “Rosemary is His mother, no matter how she behaves,” she said. “You remember that, and show some respect.”
Laura-Louise said something under her breath.
Rosemary wiped her forehead and cheeks with the cool handkerchief. The Japanese, sitting across the room on a hassock, caught her eye and grinned and ducked his head. He held up an opened camera into which he was putting film, and moved it back and forth in the direction of the bassinet, grinning and nodding. She looked down and started to cry. She wiped at her eyes.
Roman came in holding the arm of a robust, handsome, dark-skinned man in a snow-white suit and white shoes. He carried a large box wrapped in light blue paper patterned with Teddy bears and candy canes. Musical sounds came from it. Everyone gathered to meet him and shake his hand. “Worried,” they said, and “pleasure,” and “airport,” and “Stavropoulos,” and “occasion.” Laura-Louise brought the box to the bassinet. She held it up for the baby to see, shook it for him to hear, and put it on the window seat with many other boxes similarly wrapped and a few that were wrapped in black with black ribbon.
“Just after midnight on June twenty-fifth,” Roman said. “Exactly half the year ‘round from you-know. Isn’t it perfect?”
“But why are you surprised?” the newcomer asked with both his hands outstretched. “Didn’t Edmond Lautreamont predict June twenty-fifth three hundred years ago?”
“Indeed he did,” Roman said, smiling, “but it’s such a novelty for one of his predictions to prove accurate!” Everyone laughed. “Come, my friend,” Roman said, drawing the newcomer forward, “come see Him. Come see the Child.”
They went to the bassinet, where Laura-Louise waited with a shopkeeper’s smile, and they closed around it and looked into it silently. After a few moments the newcomer lowered himself to his knees.
Guy and Mr. Wees came in.
They waited in the archway until the newcomer had risen, and then Guy came over to Rosemary. “She’ll be all right,” he said; “Abe is in there with her.” He stood looking down at her, his hands rubbing at his sides. “They promised me you wouldn’t be hurt,” he said. “And you haven’t been, really.
I mean, suppose you’d had a baby and lost it; wouldn’t it be the same? And we’re getting so much in return, Ro.”
She put the handkerchief on the table and looked at him. As hard as she could she spat at him.
He flushed and turned away, wiping at the front of his jacket. Roman caught him and introduced him to the newcomer, Argyron Stavropoulos.
“How proud you must be,” Stavropoulos said, clasping Guy’s hand in both his own. “But surely that isn’t the mother there? Why in the name of-“ Roman drew him away and spoke in his ear.
“Here,” Minnie said, and offered Rosemary a mug of steaming tea. “Drink this and you’ll feel a little
