killed this girl. So I had to mention Enoch, and how my mother had made the bargain in the woods. She hadn't let me come with her—I was only twelve—but she took some of my blood in a little bottle.
Then, when she came back, Enoch was with her. And he was to be mine forever, she said, and look after me and help me in all ways.
I told this very carefully and explained why it was I couldn't help myself when I did anything now, because ever since my mother died Enoch had guided me.
Yes, all these years Enoch had protected me, just as my mother planned. She knew I couldn't get along alone. I admitted this to Dr. Silversmith because I thought he was a wise man and would understand.
That was wrong.
I knew it at once. Because while Dr. Silversmith leaned forward and stroked his little beard and said, "Yes, yes," over and over again, I could feel his eyes watching me. The same kind as the people in the mob. Mean eyes. Eyes that don't trust you when they see you. Prying, peeping eyes.
Then he began to ask me all sorts of ridiculous questions. About Enoch, at first—although I knew he was only pretending to believe in Enoch. He asked me how I could hear Enoch if I couldn't see him. He asked me if I ever heard any other voices. He asked me how I felt when I killed Emily Robbins and whether I—but I won't even think about that question. Why, he talked to me as if I were some kind of—crazy person!
He had only been fooling me all along about not knowing Enoch. He proved that now by asking me how many other people I had killed. And then he wanted to know, where were their heads?
He couldn't fool me any longer.
I just laughed at him, then, and shut up tighter than a clam.
After a while he gave up and went away, shaking his head. I laughed after him because I knew he hadn't found out what he wanted to find out. He wanted to know all my mother's secrets, and my secrets, and Enoch's secrets too.
But he didn't, and I laughed. And then I went to sleep. I slept almost all afternoon.
When I woke up, there was a new man standing in front of my cell. He had a big, fat smiling face, and nice eyes.
"Hello, Seth," he said, very friendly. "Having a little snooze?"
I reached up to the top of my head. I couldn't feel Enoch, but I knew he was there, and still asleep. He moves fast even when he's sleeping.
"Don't be alarmed," said the man. "I won't hurt you."
"Did that Doctor send you?" I asked.
The man laughed. "Of course not," he told me. "My name's Cassidy. Edwin Cassidy. I'm the District Attorney, and I'm in charge here. Can I come in and sit down, do you suppose?"
"I'm locked in," I said.
"I've got the keys from the Sheriff," said Mr. Cassidy. He took them out and opened my cell; walked right in and sat down next to me on the bench.
"Aren't you afraid?" I asked him. "You know, I'm supposed to be a murderer."
"Why Seth," Mr. Cassidy laughed, "I'm not afraid of you. I know you didn't mean to kill anybody."
He put his hand on my shoulder, and I didn't draw away. It was a nice fat, soft hand. He had a big diamond ring on his finger that just twinkled away in the sunshine.
"How's Enoch?" he said.
I jumped.
"Oh, that's all right. That fool Doctor told me when I met him down the street. He doesn't understand about Enoch, does he, Seth? But you and I do."
"That Doctor thinks I'm crazy," I whispered.
"Well, just between us, Seth, it did sound a little hard to believe, at first. But I've just come from the swamp. Sheriff Shelby and some of his men are still working down there.
"They found Emily Robbins' body just a little while ago. And other bodies, too. A fat man's body, and a small boy, and some Indian. The quicksand preserves them, you know."
I watched his eyes, and they were still smiling, so I knew I could trust this man.
"They'll find other bodies too, if they keep on, won't they, Seth?"
I nodded.
"But I didn't wait any longer, I saw enough to understand that you were telling the truth. Enoch must have made you do
Then, when she came back, Enoch was with her. And he was to be mine forever, she said, and look after me and help me in all ways.
I told this very carefully and explained why it was I couldn't help myself when I did anything now, because ever since my mother died Enoch had guided me.
Yes, all these years Enoch had protected me, just as my mother planned. She knew I couldn't get along alone. I admitted this to Dr. Silversmith because I thought he was a wise man and would understand.
That was wrong.
I knew it at once. Because while Dr. Silversmith leaned forward and stroked his little beard and said, "Yes, yes," over and over again, I could feel his eyes watching me. The same kind as the people in the mob. Mean eyes. Eyes that don't trust you when they see you. Prying, peeping eyes.
Then he began to ask me all sorts of ridiculous questions. About Enoch, at first—although I knew he was only pretending to believe in Enoch. He asked me how I could hear Enoch if I couldn't see him. He asked me if I ever heard any other voices. He asked me how I felt when I killed Emily Robbins and whether I—but I won't even think about that question. Why, he talked to me as if I were some kind of—crazy person!
He had only been fooling me all along about not knowing Enoch. He proved that now by asking me how many other people I had killed. And then he wanted to know, where were their heads?
He couldn't fool me any longer.
I just laughed at him, then, and shut up tighter than a clam.
After a while he gave up and went away, shaking his head. I laughed after him because I knew he hadn't found out what he wanted to find out. He wanted to know all my mother's secrets, and my secrets, and Enoch's secrets too.
But he didn't, and I laughed. And then I went to sleep. I slept almost all afternoon.
When I woke up, there was a new man standing in front of my cell. He had a big, fat smiling face, and nice eyes.
"Hello, Seth," he said, very friendly. "Having a little snooze?"
I reached up to the top of my head. I couldn't feel Enoch, but I knew he was there, and still asleep. He moves fast even when he's sleeping.
"Don't be alarmed," said the man. "I won't hurt you."
"Did that Doctor send you?" I asked.
The man laughed. "Of course not," he told me. "My name's Cassidy. Edwin Cassidy. I'm the District Attorney, and I'm in charge here. Can I come in and sit down, do you suppose?"
"I'm locked in," I said.
"I've got the keys from the Sheriff," said Mr. Cassidy. He took them out and opened my cell; walked right in and sat down next to me on the bench.
"Aren't you afraid?" I asked him. "You know, I'm supposed to be a murderer."
"Why Seth," Mr. Cassidy laughed, "I'm not afraid of you. I know you didn't mean to kill anybody."
He put his hand on my shoulder, and I didn't draw away. It was a nice fat, soft hand. He had a big diamond ring on his finger that just twinkled away in the sunshine.
"How's Enoch?" he said.
I jumped.
"Oh, that's all right. That fool Doctor told me when I met him down the street. He doesn't understand about Enoch, does he, Seth? But you and I do."
"That Doctor thinks I'm crazy," I whispered.
"Well, just between us, Seth, it did sound a little hard to believe, at first. But I've just come from the swamp. Sheriff Shelby and some of his men are still working down there.
"They found Emily Robbins' body just a little while ago. And other bodies, too. A fat man's body, and a small boy, and some Indian. The quicksand preserves them, you know."
I watched his eyes, and they were still smiling, so I knew I could trust this man.
"They'll find other bodies too, if they keep on, won't they, Seth?"
I nodded.
"But I didn't wait any longer, I saw enough to understand that you were telling the truth. Enoch must have made you do
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