'They were probably stupid, too,' admitted Vincent. 'But I was going to lift our capsule-I had to have something to put him in-and try to intercept the orbit of the other one. Then I was going to get the man out-I don't know how-and bring him back to Earth and put him down at the FBI building in Washington. They'd know how to get him home again.' 'Well,' Mr. Kroginold smiled faintly. 'Your plan has the virtue of simplicity, anyway. Just nit-picking, though, I can see one slight problem. How would the FBI ever convince the authorities in his country that we hadn't impounded the capsule for our own nefarious purposes?' Then he became very business-like. 'Lizbeth, will you get in touch with Ron? I think he's in Kerry tonight. Lucky our best Motiver is This End right now. I'll see if Jemmy is up-canyon. We'll get his okay on Remy's craft at the Selkirk. If this has been going on for very long, time is what we've got little of.' It was rather anti-climactic after all those efficient rattlings-out of directions to see the three of them just sit quietly there on the step, hands clasped, their faces lifted a little in the moonlight, their eyes closed. My left foot was beginning to go to sleep when Vincent's chin finally dropped, and he pulled one hand free from his mother's grasp to curl his arm up over his head. Mrs. Kroginold's eyes flipped open. 'Vincent?' Her voice was anxious. 'It's coming again,' I said. 'That distress-whatever if is.' 'Ron's heading for the Selkirk now,' she said, gathering Vincent to her. 'Jake, Vincent's receiving again.' Mr. Kroginold said hastily to the eaves of the porch, '-as soon as possible. Hang on. Vincent's got him again. Wait, I'll relay. Vince, where can I reach him? Show me.' And darned if they didn't all sit there again-with Vincent's face shining with sweat and his mother trying to cradle his twisting body. Then Mr. Kroginold gave a grunt, and Vincent relaxed with a sob. His father took him from his mother. 'Already?' I asked. 'That was a short one.' Mrs. Kroginold fished for a tissue in her pocket and wiped Vincent's face. 'It isn't over yet,' she said. 'It won't be until the capsule swings behind the Earth again, but he's channeling the distress to his father, and he's relaying it to Jemmy up-canyon. Jemmy is our Old One. He'll help us handle it from here on out. But Vincent will have to be our receptor-' ' `A sort of telepathy,'' I quoted, dizzy with trying to follow a road I couldn't even imagine. 'A sort of telepathy.' Mrs. Kroginold laughed and sighed, her finger tracing Vincent's cheek lovingly. 'You've had quite a mish-mash dumped in your lap, haven't you? And no time for us to be subtle.' 'It is bewildering,' I said. 'I've been adding two and two and getting the oddest fours!' 'Like?' she asked. 'Like maybe Vincent's forefathers didn't come over in the Mayflower, but maybe a spaceship?' 'But not quite Mayflower years ago,' she smiled. 'And?' 'And maybe Vincent's Dad has seen no life on the moon?' 'Not so very long ago,' she said. 'And?' 'And maybe there is a man in distress up there and you are going to try to rescue him?' 'Well,' said Mrs. Kroginold. 'Those fours look all right to me.' 'They do?' I goggled. Then I sighed, 'Ah well, this modern math! I knew it would be the end of me!' Mr. Kroginold brought his eyes back to us. 'Well, it's all set in motion. Ron's gone for the craft. He'll be here to pick us up as soon as he can make it. Jemmy's taking readings on the capsule so we'll be able to attempt rendezvous. Then, the Power being willing, we'll be able to bring the fellow back:' 'I-I-' I stood up. This was suddenly too much. 'I think maybe I'd better go back in the house.' I brushed the sand off the back of my robe. 'One thing bothers me still, though:' 'Yes?' Mrs. Kroginold smiled. 'How is the FBI going to convince the authorities of the other country?' 'Ay!' she said sobering. 'Jake-' And I gathered my skirts up and left the family there on the school porch. As I closed the teacherage door behind me, I leaned against it. It was so dark-in here. And it was such light out there! Why, they had jumped into helping without asking one single question! Then I wondered what questions I had expected-Was the man a nice man? Was he worth saving? Was he an important person?. What kind of reward? Is there a need? That's all they needed to know! I looked at the sleepcoat I hadn't worn yet, but I felt too morning to undress and go to bed properly, so I slid out my robe and put my dress back on. And my shoes. And sweater. And stood irresolutely in the middle of the floor. After all! What is the etiquette for when your guests about to go into orbit from your front porch? Then there was a thud at the door and the knob rattle heard Mrs. Kroginold call softly, 'But Vincent! An Outsider?' 'But she isn't!' said Vincent, fumbling again at the door 'She said she isn't-she's a teacher. And I know she'd –'The door swung open suddenly and tumbled Vincent to the schoolroom floor. Mrs. Kroginold was just outside outer door on the porch. 'Sorry,' she said, 'Vincent thinks maybe you'd like see the craft arrive-but –' 'You're afraid I might tell,' I said for her. 'And should be kept in the family. I've been repository for odd family stories before. Well, maybe not quite ' Vincent scrambled for the porch. 'Here it comes!' cried. I was beside Mrs. Kroginold in a split second and, grasping hands, we raced after Vincent. Mr. Kroginold had been standing in the middle of the playground, but he drifted back to us as a huge-well, a huge nothing came do through the moonlight. 'It-where is it?' I wondered if some dimension I didn't know was involved. 'Oh,' said Mrs. Kroginold. 'It has the unlight over Jake! Ask Ron-' Mr. Kroginold turned his face to the huge nothing. And there it was! A slender silver something, its nose arcing down from a rocket position to rest on the tawny sands of the playground. 'The unlight's so no one will see us,' said Mrs. Kroginold, 'and we flow it so it won't bother radar and things like that:' She laughed. 'We're not the right shape for this year's flying saucers, anyway. I'm glad we're not. Who wants to look like a frosted cupcake on a purple lighted plate? That's what's so In now.' 'Is it really a spaceship?' I asked, struck by how clean the lovely gleaming craft was that had come so silently to dent our playground. 'Sure it is!' cried Vincent. 'The Old Man had it and they took him to the moon in it to bury him and Bethie too and Remy went with their Dad and Mom and-' 'A little reticence, Son,' said Mr. Kroginold, catching Vincent's hand. 'It isn't necessary to go into all that histo– 'She-she realizes,' said Mrs. Kroginold. 'It's not as if she were a stranger.' 'We shouldn't be gone too long,' said Mr. Kroginold. I'll pick you up here as soon-' 'Pick us up! I'm going with you!' cried Mrs. Kroginold. 'Jake Kroginold! If you think you're going to do me out of something as wild and wonderful as this-' 'Let her go with us, Dad,' begged Vincent. 'With us?' Mr. Kroginold raked his fingers back through his hair. 'You, too?' 'Of course!' Vincent's eyes were wide with astonishment. 'It's my man!' 'Well, adonday veeah in cards and spades!' said Mr. Kroginold. He grinned over at me. 'Family!' he said. I studiously didn't meet his eyes. I felt a deep wave of color move up my face as I kept my mouth clamped shut. I wouldn't say anything! I couldn't ask! I had no right to expect- ' And Teacher, too!' cried Vincent, 'Teacher, too!' Mr. Kroginold considered me for a long moment. My wanting must have been a flaring thing because he finally shrugged an eyebrow and echoed, 'And Teacher, too.' Then I nearly died! It was so wild and wonderful and impossible and I'm scared to death of heights! We scurried about getting me a jacket. Getting Kipper's forgotten jacket out of the cloak room for Vincent who had come off without his. Taking one of my blankets, just in case. I paused a moment in the mad scramble, hand poised over my Russian-English, English-Russian pocket dictionary. Then left it. The man might not be Russian at all. And even if was, people like Vincent's seemed to have little need such aids to communication. A door opened in the craft. I looked at it, thinking blankly, Ohmy! Ohmy! We had started across the yard toward the craft when I gasped, 'The-the door! I have to lock the door!' I dashed back to the schoolhouse and into the darkness of the teacherage. And foolishly, childishly, there in the dark, I got awfully hungry! I yanked a cupboard door open and scrabbled briefly. Peanut butter-slippery, glassy
