But the biggest difference was in Mother.
“About time,” she said. “Mr. Enderton, this is my son, Jay. He’ll give you a hand to carry your things upstairs. He’s big and strong.”
Not one word about where I had been, or what I had been doing until so late. Which was just fine by me. But odder than this was Mother’s attitude towards the visitor. There was none of the glow about her that I had always seen with other men guests, no sideways cocking of the head, no little touches or quick glances. Instead she sounded very practical and businesslike as she pointed behind me to the doorway.
“Get to it,Jay,” she said. “It’s too much for me.”
I had noticed the great box when I came in—I could hardly miss it, the way that it filled half the entrance. If I was supposed to carry that upstairs, I would need lots of help. But Paddy Enderton was already standing up and coming toward me. Seated, his size had been deceptive. He possessed the head and torso of a giant, but his legs proved to be so short that he was no taller than me.
“You’re Jay, then,” he said gruffly. He stared hard, measuring my build, but made no move to shake my hand. “Aye, you seem strong enough. Let’s do it.”
I could see the remains of dinner still on the table, and that would have been my first preference. But Enderton had gone past me, and was already reaching down to a handle on the side of the box. He lifted it easily, one-handed. I took the other handle without much hope that I would be able to move it at all. To my amazement, the chest came easily off the ground.
I wondered, had Enderton really needed my help?
Yes, he had. We headed up the stairs without my feeling much strain, but Enderton gasped and gulped at every step. At the top, to my surprise, he took a turn to the left along the landing.
To explain that surprise, I have to say that our house had three bedrooms. The one at the front, looking out over the lake, was my room. The two at the back were Mother’s bedroom and a small guest bedroom right next to it, where visitors always slept.
The left turn off the landing led to my room, and only to my room. And when we went into it, I found that all my belongings had disappeared.
“It’s all right.” Mother had followed us up the stairs. “Mr. Enderton said he absolutely had to have the front room. You’re in the guest bedroom, Jay. I moved your things. It won’t be for long.”
“How long?” It was ridiculous, moving me out of my own room for just a couple of days.
Now mother did look at Enderton, but it was nothing more than simple inquiry.
He had put down his side of the box and straightened up, the breath rattling in his throat. “I told you,” he wheezed at last. “I’m not sure.” He had one hand pressed to his massive rib cage, and his face was even paler than before.
“I’m not sure,” he repeated after another long pause. “Maybe three or four weeks.”
He said nothing more, but stood there scowling and panting, and glancing every second or two at the sealed box. He was clearly waiting, and after a few more seconds Mother nodded at me. “Come on, then,” she said, and led the way back downstairs.
“He’s horrible,” I burst out, as soon as we were in the living-room and out of earshot. “Why are you letting him stay with us for even a night, let alone a month?”
Mother hesitated. She had been loading a plate with cold meat and bread. “Now then, Jay,” she said mildly. She handed me the plate. “Paddy Enderton is not what I expected, that I’ll admit. But he’s going to pay more than anyone ever paid. And for nothing, too.”
“It’s not for nothing! You’re feeding him, aren’t you? And you let him have my room.”
“That’s… different.”
“It sure is. Why didn’t you leave me with Uncle Toby until he was gone?”
“So you could go sailing off across the lake again, and worry your old uncle sick?” But Mother sounded more thoughtful than angry. “I just feel better with you here, and Uncle Duncan, too. Eat your dinner, now, and clear up afterwards. I’m going off to bed.”
So there was another surprise, something for me to ponder as I ate a rapid and solitary meal, and then washed up. Not only was I going to be around while Mother had a visitor, but Uncle Duncan would be dropping in, too. That had never happened before.
None of this was enough consolation, though, for my being deprived of my own bedroom. My dislike of Paddy Enderton grew when I went up to the guest room and found all my things scattered around haphazardly on shelves and floor.
That was not enough to keep me awake, once I lay down on the bed. The day had been too long, and too full. I relived the visit to Muldoon Port, the grandeur of the space launch, and the night journey back, with the boat whispering its way across the dark lake. My final thought was again of the sailboat. It was still moored at Toltoona. Tomorrow I would have to walk over there, and sail it home.
That thought came into my head again as soon as I awoke. It was barely light. The house was quiet. If I hurried I could be to Toltoona and back before Mother even knew that I had gone.
I dressed quickly, stole downstairs, and headed for the door—and jumped a foot in the air when a silent form came at me from the kitchen.
It was Paddy Enderton, a big sharp-pointed carving knife in his right hand. “Hah!” he said. “It’s you.” He lowered the knife. “I’m just getting myself a bite of breakfast. What are you doing up so early?”
“I left my sailboat over at Toltoona last night. I have to go and get it back.”
“You sail, do you?” he said, after an awkward silence. “Going to be a sailor, are you, or a fisherman?”
“I hope not.” I wanted to be away, but I had to be civil. This morning he was at least talking to me as though I was a human being. “I’d rather be a spacer,” I added. “Like you.”
“What’s that?” The knife jerked upward again, its point toward me. “Who said I was a spacer?”
“Nobody.”
“Do you think I look like a spacer?”
“No, you don’t.” I was scared by his eyes even more than the knife. “But you sound like one, the way you have trouble breathing. And all Mother’s other guests, they’ve been spacers.”
“Other guests?” His pale face reddened, and the breath wheezed in his throat. “You have spacer guests here?”
I wished that Mother was around to explain, but it was long before her usual rising time. So it was up to me. I told him the simple truth, that we had guests now and again, ever since I remembered, and that they had all been spacers. But it had been four months since one was here.
That last fact seemed to calm him, and he slowly nodded his massive head. “I should have checked,” he said, “before I came. Too late now.”
“Are you a spacer?” I asked.
Instead of answering he walked through into the kitchen and came back carrying a sandwich of bread and hot bacon.
“Here.” He handed it to me. “Eat that. I don’t have the appetite now.” He studied me as I took a first bite. “So you’re often in Toltoona, eh? And you’re a sailor, too, who wants to be a spacer. Did you ever think to sail right across Lake Sheelin, to Muldoon Port?”
“I did it just yesterday,” I said proudly. “I saw a space launch, close up.”
“Did you now.” He smiled for the first time, an awkward grimace of stained teeth. “Well, Jay Hara, you’re quite the adventurer. Would there be any problem if you sailed across again, for me?”
Problem? It would please me more than anything in the world, but still there was a problem, a big one.