Free Pin by Andrew Neiderman Page B

house and father’s investments. Once a week I would go to see Mr. Orseck and go over the finances. We were doing very, very well, and I had him send a copy of our assets toUncle Hymie just to prove to him that I could handle things better than he could. I guess he didn’t like knowing that, because he never responded.
    From time to time Ursula and I would go out to a movie or take a long drive on a weekend afternoon. Once we even took Pin to the drive-in theater in Rock Hill, but he didn’t enjoy sitting in the car. As a rule, he didn’t enjoy riding in the car either. The three of us watched a lot of television, always discussing the programs at length. And I had my epic poem to work on. I wanted to do something modern, look for up-to-date dragons and monsters. The fear of the darkness was always the same throughout time, as far as I could see. Sometimes, I would look out of my window or the window of the living room and stare up at the night sky. There were no streetlights near our home. We were too far from the village. The darkness was deep and thick. At times like that, I could imagine the house to be a cave. I would write my best lines. When I read them to Pin, he knew immediately what I had been doing.
    â€œYou were thinking at the window again, huh?”
    â€œYes. I could feel Them out there, waiting for us to venture into Their darkness.”
    â€œYou didn’t see anything? I mean, actually?”
    â€œNo, not exactly. But it’s just that setting, that unseen danger, that looms and affects my hero. He senses a mystical depth, an emptiness, and it all helps to form his personality, make him the man he is in the poem. He goes forward to face the challenge that They put forth.”
    â€œI see. Interesting,” he said.
    Ursula was always frightened by my talk of Them, the unknown monsters and dragons in our modern world. Or at least she liked to pretend she wasfrightened like a little girl and curl up in bed under the covers and sob in the dark. Sometimes, after I read a passage or two of my poem that dealt with the darkness without, she’d run upstairs and do it. Pin had more patience with her at these times than I did.
    â€œUrsula is a very sensitive and emotionally wounded person,” he’d say. He knew how annoyed I got.
    â€œBut why does she have to go through this stupid charade all the time? It’s just an attention-getter, that’s all it is. I know it and she knows I know it.”
    â€œNevertheless, Leon, you’re the only one who can presently give her the affection she needs. You’ve got to humor her, play along.”
    â€œBut just when I’m getting to a good part in my poem, just when I think I’ve hit some effective metaphors …”
    â€œThere’ll be time for that. Go up to her.”
    â€œAw, shit.”
    â€œYou want me to go up to her?” he’d ask. I’d laugh at that.
    â€œOK, OK, I’m going. I’m going. But don’t go to sleep. I’ll be back.”
    â€œIt’s all right. I’m not a bit tired tonight. I’ll be here wide-awake when you return,” he’d say, and I’d go upstairs to Ursula.
    She’d be lying there in the darkness, under the covers in her bed, sobbing softly. I’d tiptoe into her room and stand by her bedside for a while. I knew she knew I was there, but she would just ignore me and continue to sob. So I’d kneel down and begin stroking her hair and whispering.
    â€œIt’s all right, Ursula. It’s all right. I’m here. It’s all right.”
    She wouldn’t respond. She’d just sob a littlesofter. In the end, I’d have to crawl in beside her and hold her to me until she would fall asleep. When she did, I’d get up softly and tiptoe out of the room and go back down to Pin. He was there, waiting, but it was no good because I was usually too tired from putting Ursula to sleep.
    â€œI’ll just have a