Free Watcher in the Woods by Robert Liparulo Page B

thought about when he had gone into the jungle world. He had threatened to go with or without Xander’s help—he wanted to go that bad. And hadn’t he decided a little too quickly to go into the World War II village in search of Mom?
    â€œIf that’s true,” he said, “it’s scary.”
    â€œLike a shark posting signs on the beach saying the water’s fine,” Dad agreed. He snapped a lock through a ring in the hasp and gave it a couple of quick yanks to make sure it was secure. They moved to the next door.
    â€œWhat’s with these wall lights?” David said.
    They stopped in front of one that depicted two warriors in combat. One was thrusting a spear through the other’s chest. The figures stuck out slightly from the surface of the shade, which seemed to be made of stone—a relief , his father had called it.
    â€œI don’t know,” Dad said. His hand reached out toward it but stopped short. He held his fingers inches from the warring figures, as though he was resisting a temptation. “I think they show things from the worlds beyond the doors.”
    â€œThere’s one down there with metal leaves and eyes peering through them,” David said. “It could be a tiger.”
    â€œAnd you saw the one with the gladiator?”
    David nodded, then something occurred to him. He said, “You know how the items in the antechambers change, and then the worlds beyond change too?”
    Dad nodded.
    David asked, “So do these wall lamps change?”
    Dad raised his eyebrows and looked up the hallway at the lights. “Now that you mention it . . . I don’t know. Most of the time I’ve been here, it’s been pretty chaotic. A lot of the lights appear the same until you look closer.” He put his hand on David’s shoulder and nodded. “Good question.”
    While he was holding a screw for the next hasp, and Dad was positioning the screwdriver over it, David thought of another one: “What if Mom tries to come back and the door’s locked?”
    Dad lowered the screwdriver and looked at him for a long moment. “Well . . . my mother never did. I don’t think the portals work that way.”
    â€œBut you don’t know.”
    â€œNo.”
    David grew quiet.
    Finally his dad gripped his arm. “Your mother’s a strong woman. I’m sure she’s all right.”
    â€œShe’s all right,” David repeated, “but she’s not here .”
    â€œShe’s not here,” his father agreed.
    It took them another forty-five minutes to put locks on the rest of the doors. When it was done, they stood on the landing and looked down the twisting hallway at their handiwork. The hasps and padlocks attached to every door seemed almost an insult to the old-hotel décor. They were ugly and stark, like a scar on the face of a baby.
    His father rattled a fat ring of keys and said, “I’ll hold on to these.”
    â€œDad?” David said. “Are the locks supposed to keep us out or keep them in?” He didn’t have to say who he meant by “them.” They knew about only one person who’d come into their house from another world—the big guy who’d taken Mom—but they all wondered if others could and would.
    â€œBoth,” Dad answered. “Still hungry again, yet? Something smells good.”
    â€œWe have to eat Toria’s cooking?” David asked.
    â€œShe’s always helped in the kitchen.” He shrugged. “Guess we’ll see how she does.”
    David nodded, and Dad started down the stairs. As David was about to follow, he heard something in the hallway softly clink —metal on metal. He looked, but didn’t see anything. Then his eye caught a lock about halfway up on the left side. It was swinging back and forth.

CHAPTER seventeen
    SUNDAY, 8 : 15 P . M .
    As long as David could remember, they had come together as a family for