"Lord Jesus!" Mom's hands shot to her mouth.
"What happened?" Dad demanded.
"A man . . . ," we said at once.
"M-man . . . ," echoed Jum, alone.
"Where?" Dad roared, looking around for someone to kill.
"Gone," I said. "Ran."
Sue pointed at the door.
Dad grabbed my arm; his fingers hurt me. "Tell me what happened!"
"He scared us, that's all," I blubbered. "He . . . . he asked could he . . . . u . . . . use the phone and . . . . and we got scared 'cause of the storm."
"What did he do?"
"N-nothin' . . . . 'cept . . . ." I looked quickly at Jum but he was staring at the floor.
"Except what?"
"He called Jim 'Jake' and we got scared, that's all."
"He called Jim 'Jake'?"
Jum covered his ears, refusing to listen.
"He . . . . he said Jim was Jake and said . . . . said he should know."
Dad stared at us, then at Mom, but said nothing.
By early morning the rain had stopped, but storm breakers still snarled like great, hungry sea monsters snapping and chewing at the beach.
We held a war council around the breakfast table; none of us had really slept. Sue was pale and didn't talk much, but she still had three helpings of pancakes. Paul fooled around in his highchair, making faces so Jum would laugh at him but Jum wasn't much in the mood for laughing. The tooth marks on his fingers looked like purple stitches.
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