through the years to the old dorm room. Intently I listened and listened and remembered.
“Have you a-a-Sorter in this Group?” I asked, fumbling for unfamiliar terms.
“No,” said Mr. Diemus. “One who could have been, but isn’t.”
“Or any Communicator? Anyone who can send or receive?”
“No,” Mr. Diemus said, sweat starting on his forehead. “One who could have been, but-“
“See?” I accused. “See what you’ve traded for-for what?
Who are the could-but-can’ts? Who are they?”
“I am,” Mr. Diemus said, the words a bitterness in his mouth. “And my wife.”
I stared at him, wondering confusedly. How far did training decide? What could we do with what we had?
“Look,” I said quickly. “There is another Group. And they-they have all the persuasions and designs. Karen’s been trying to find you-to find any of the People. She told me-oh, Lord, it’s been years ago, I hope it’s still so-every evening they send out calls for the People. If we can catch it-if you can catch the call and answer it they can help.
I know they can. Faster than cars, faster than planes, more surely than specialists-“
“But if the doctor finds out-” Mr. Diemus wavered fearfully.
I stood up abruptly. “‘Good night, Mr. Diemus,” I said, turning to the door. “Let me know when Abie dies.”
His cold hand shook on my arm.
“Can’t you see!” he cried. “I’ve been taught, too-longer and stronger than the children! We never even dared think of rebellion! Help me, help me!”
“Get your wife,” I said. “Get her and Abie’s mother and father. Bring them down to the grove. We can’t do anything here in the house. It’s too heavy with denial.”
I hurried on ahead and sank on my knees in the evening shadows among the trees.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I cried into the bend of my arm. “I have an idea but I don’t know! Help us! Guide us!”
I opened my eyes to the arrival of the four.
“We told him we were going out to pray,” said Mr. Diemus.
And we all did.
Then Mr. Diemus began the call I worded for him, silently, but with such intensity that sweat started again on his face. Karen, Karen, come to the People, come to the People. And the other three sat around him, bolstering his effort, supporting his cry. I watched their tense faces, my own twisting in sympathy, and time was lost as we labored.
Then slowly his breathing calmed and his face relaxed and I felt a stirring as though something brushed past my mind. Mrs. Diemus whispered, “He remembers now. He’s found the way.”
And as the last spark of sun caught mica highlights on the hilltop above us Mr. Diemus stretched his hands out slowly and said with infinite relief, “There they are.”
I looked around startled, half expecting to see Karen coming through the trees. But Mr. Diemus spoke again.
“Karen, we need help. One of our Group is dying. We have a doctor, an Outsider, but he hasn’t the equipment or the know-how to help. What shall we do?’”
In the pause that followed I became slowly conscious of a new feeling. I couldn’t tell you exactly what it was-a kind of unfolding-an opening-a relaxation. The ugly tight defensiveness that was so characteristic of the grownups of Bendo was slipping away.
‘“Yes, Valancy,” said Mr. Diemus. “He’s in a bad way. We can’t help because-” His voice faltered and his words died. I felt a resurgence of fear and unhappiness as his communication went beyond words and then ebbed back to speech again.
“We’ll expect you then. “You know the way.”
I could see the pale blur of his face in the dusk under the trees as he turned back to us.
“They’re coming,” he said, wonderingly. “Karen and Valancy. They’re so pleased to find us-” His voice broke.
“We’re not alone-“
And I turned away as the two couples merged in the darkness. I had pushed them somewhere way beyond me.
It was a lonely lonely walk back to the house for me-alone.
They dropped down through the half darkness-four of them. For a fleeting second I wondered at myself that I could stand there matter-of-factly watching four adults slant calmly down out of the sky. Not a hair ruffled, not a stain of travel on them, knowing that only a short time before they had been hundreds of miles away-not even aware that Bendo existed.
But all strangeness was swept away as Karen hugged me delightedly.
“Oh, Melodye,” she cried, “it is you! He said it was, but I wasn’t sure! Oh, it’s so good to see you again! Who owes who a letter?”
She laughed and turned to the smiling three. “Valancy, the Old One of our Group.” Valancy’s radiant face proved the Old One didn’t mean age. “Bethie, our Sensitive.” The slender fair-haired young girl ducked her head shyly. “And
