"Children At Play"
                            "By Curt Strap"

                               CHAPTER 1

     She was uncomfortable, stretched out in an odd position, flat on
her back with her arms and legs flung out. She was stiff and in sone
pain at her wrists and ankles. She could not move. Her mouth was filled
with wet cloth-like terry cloth and the lower part of her face was
covered with something stiff that hurt and pulled at her skin.
     More struggle, quicker, more anxious now, more coming awake but
nothing gave or changed. She was helpless, a condition caused by, a
nervous craning and twisting of her head and eyes showed her the
reasons; rope, a gag, adhesive tape. She was tied up. Beneath the sheet
someone had thrown over her, she could see that she was bound to the
four posts of the bed, entirely, tightly, a prisoner.
     This, of course, was not acceptable: it simply couldn't be. She was
still in her bedroom; she hadn't been kidnapped or moved. Beyond the
tightness of rope, some stiffness, and a mild headache, she seemed well.
She hadn't been harmed or raped (or so she felt). Moreover, young Bobby
was asleep in a chair beside the bed.
     His young face was all innocent, blond hair, high pink on the
cheeks, full lips, a fine looking boy. Under the conditions, her
helplessness; his freedom-sober, reliable Bobby seemed a too young
sentry.
     ALL TOTALLY IMPOSSIBLE.
     The only thing out of role and place was Nola, the incredible
prisoner. At once her shock and surprise turned to fully awakened
indignation. It was as if she were victim of some practical joke aimed
at her alone, and she resented, rapidly hating it.
     Getting Bobby to untie her was obvious, but with that inherent
adult feeling of superiority over children she struggled for herself
first. Although the ropes were tight and her position unfavourable, she
arched and wrenched, jumped and pulled at her bonds. Athletic and young,
even she was impressed by her strength and the violence and
co-ordination of her movements. The bed itself creaked and complained at
the assault.
     Some lessons teach quickly.
     Though it worked and cracked, the bed did not yield. Though the
rope slacked in her favour, the slack came out of the turns on her
ankles and wrists and these turns tightened like wire. Though she tugged
and twisted, she could breathe only through her nose and soon became
winded and weak. A minute, a minute and a half, and she fell back. The
hunter, the captor, whoever he was, had won for the moment. Still
indignant for being more convinced, she stopped spending her strength
and lay still. Now she would take help.
     The noise, of course, woke Bobby; he stood up by her side in
detailed somewhat sleepy confusion and alarm.
     "Um, I, ee."  Demandingly.
     Bobby reacted quickly. His hands flew to hers but only to tighten
the knots. He flung back the sheet-she was still in her shortie, she
saw-and he checked the ropes on her ankles.
     This done, his face relaxed, changed. She saw it.
     He suddenly realized...
     "Cindy!" No longer his sober self but shouting, agitated, he ran
from the room toward his sister's.
     Helpless, still breathing hard, she waited and listened.
     "What is it? Stop it, now!" Then, after an interval, there was
faster, lower conversation. "Don't you remember?"
     Then they came bounding back into the bedroom. Bright and now
energetically awake, Cindy jumped right up on the bed and peered down at
Nola's helplessness.
     "We got her," she yelled. Jumping down from the bed, she did a
circle dance with her brother.
     "We got her, we got her...We got the baby sitter!"
     She and Bobby hugged each other in rare, delicious agreement. "And
they won't be back for ten days."
     The girl on the bed was not stupid; the visible and physical fact
was fact, she was a prisoner of children.
     Everything told her mind that it was wrong. She raised and turned
her head and carefully explored her ropes. She tested them again and
again, first hope then disappointment. Straining, her fingers reached
for unreachable knots. At length, unconvinced yet impotent, she gave up
again. From discovery, shock, indignity, and astonishment, her mood grew
angry.
     Lying there, she rethought the classic thoughts of the vengeful,
disobeyed adult. "WAIT'LL I GET MY HANDS ON THEM."
     However satisfying this might be, however, the thought of how long
made her pause. "Somebody may stop by," but in the three days she had
been there, it hadn't happened yet. Reliance on others usually taken for
granted, was abruptly torn. There were no neighbours close. The house
was placed for privacy, and privacy was severely respected. Even if she
were to work her gag off, she could scream and no-one would hear her.
Except, of course, the children. Everything came back to the children.
     As she lay there, she could hear them in the kitchen, two rooms and
a hallway distant. After their dance of glee, they had fled as if in
need to talk secrets and all sorts of delicious mischief. They were
giggling. The mood was exuberant, naughty and a lot of fun, and it
didn't promise to subside.
     "Ummm." It was Nola's first sound of complaint, discomfort,
exasperation. This might go on for some time.
     Shifting her body to find relief that barely existed she thought
about making them let her go.
     She tried. She turned her cheek down on the pillow and closed her
eyes. It wasn't hard to imagine what others would say.
     "But, Nola, for godsakes, how? Your bigger than they are, your
stronger, your smarter. How could you let them do a thing like this to
you?"
     "It was after I went to sleep." Nola felt guilty at once. Anyhow,
the children or Bobby alone-I guess it had to be Bobby-came into the
room with something, drugs or something, in a rag. I had a bad dream.
That must've been when he was making me breathe it. Afterwards, they
tied me up."
     "But, why."
     "I don't know."
     "Then find out, "she answered herself.
     "They can't keep you gagged forever. You've got to eat and drink -
even they know that. They'll get curious, they will want to know what
you think. And when they do ungag you, don't yell or scream or lose your
temper. Use some of you teacher training. Talk to them; be interested in
all this. There're only two of them, they know you, they like you.
Sooner or later they'll get bored silly and let you go."
     "This logic was hard to refute. It was practical."
     "That's right..." she answered herself again. "And they can't keep
me tied up forever. I've got to go to the bathroom and get some exercise
and blood circulation. That will be my excuse for getting up, and when
I do..."
     Now it was more bearable. Well the, work it out, she told herself.
They were children in an adult world. They could not cope alone.
     Periodically, one or the other of the pair came in to inspect her
and make sure she was not freeing herself, then leave again. They were
up and down the hall, in and out of their rooms, back and forth outside
and inside. The liquor of freedom was in the air and until it burned
down, she could only lie quietly and wait.
     Finally, after about two agonizing hours, Bobby now fully dressed,
came into the room, and after checking her securely again, picked up the
phone by her bed and dialled. He waited, and then conversation.                                 CHAPTER 2

     "Good morning...Mrs. Howard. This is Bobby. Is John there? May I
talk to him, please? ...what, ma'am?" Bobby paused and then said with
enthusiasm, "Real great!" Bobby paused. "And Nola is taking us swimming
in the river this afternoon, again. You should see her swim...Yes,
Ma'am, we will...OK, Thank You." There was silence.
     After a moment more.
     "John," he said cautiously. "Yeah, is your mother right there? OK."
And again his face changed, this time to very serious, almost possessed.
     "Mission going OK so far...Yeah, no kidding! Yeah, I told you. We
have her...Yeah. No, I'm looking at her right now just like we planned.
Right. Now listen, John, can you do what you said about this morning.
Yeah, you call the other kids and meet us here as soon as you can get
over, right?...Cool man...OK." And he hung up.
     For a few seconds, Bobby stared off into space over Nola's head.
Eventually, he dropped his glance to her, and she understood that there
was a lot more to this than she had imagined.                              CHAPTER 3

     About midmorning, they heard the sound of someone whistling through
his teeth-shrill, powerful, outdoors, some distance away. Cindy, who was
working on a dress for her doll, looked up.
     "It's John."
     "It's them!" Bobby hurried to the door and out onto the steps.
Being thirteen and being Bobby he was noisy in his exit jumping from
stair to stair. Then, putting his fingers between his teeth, he whistled
back.
     There came a shout. The sound rose and fell. There were words in it
which couldn't be understood but Bobby knew them by heart. He returned
their secret code words SECRET SIX, and there was a quick reply -
whistles, shouts, slowly coming closer.
     Bobby jumped the last step, Cindy down the steps behind him. Then
he stopped, a look of caution, of responsibility on his face. He was
proud of what he had done, possessive, nervous; it wouldn't do if at
this last minute his captive escaped and descended on SECRET SIX like an
avenging goddess of some kind.
     "Aren't you going to meet them?"
     "You go on, I'll stay here." But he whistled once more for
assurance.
     Torn between the desire to run and tell everything first, and a new
feeling of duty to her brother, Cindy hesitated. Then she turned back.
"OK, I'll wait too."
     Bobby was a little startled. Being a girl, being only ten, being
the Darling, Cindy could get to Bobby about as often as she wished, and
she wished often. She cried and accused him, she tattled, she tempted
and set female snares, she rushed out and told all the good news first.
Bobby was used to this and used to the discipline that followed if he so
much as tried to defend himself against her. The fabled law of fang and
claw, brother and sister, he lived by it inflexibly.
     "Why?" Bobby was surprised by this offer of peace.
     "I dunno" - she shrugged it away quite lightly - "I just will,
that's all."
     Touched, Bobby smiled as they went and settled down, Cindy on the
bottom step - near the coming action and Bobby hanging on the railing,
one foot swinging impatiently.
     "Do what you want," he said. He took his truces where he found them
and enjoyed them while they lasted and he trusted his sister about the
way he would a snake.
     At last, the other four kids appeared from the shadow of the woods.
John Randall, the biggest - he was sixteen - led the way. Behind him
came Paul Savage, thirteen, and following him, his daintily stepping
sister, Dianne. Last was Bobby's and Cindy's cousin, Barbara, who had
spent the night with Dianne. She was fourteen.
     Something about their steady collective approach seemed to relieve
Bobby. When they reached the edge of the garden he ran to meet them.
     "Did'ja really do it?"
     "Yeah! Really!" Then they were all slapping backs and laughing,
except for Dianne who at seventeen plus stood apart. "Nola is there
right now. Wait'll you see it!"
     "Was it hard?" Paul said.
     "It was real cool," Bobby said. "Just like TV. I swear it must have
taken me an hour just to get in from the door to the bed." They all came
along now, Bobby waving his hands and talking. Cindy jumping ahead. "She
kept turning over and waking up and yawning and stuff like that. I was
scared she was going to turn on a light or get out of bed and step on me
or something like that..."
     "Did you keep the cholorform in the bag like I told you?" Dianne
asked.
     "Yeah, but you could smell it all over the place. And I kept
thinking, boy, if this doesn't work, we're really going to get it."
     "Did it?"
     "Well, when I finally got there, see, I stood up and took the cloth
out of the bag, and I sort of just held it up in the air near her nose.
And I had to hold my own breath. Then she reached up and pushed my hand
away."
     "Really?" Paul's eyes spread wide with imagined participation.
     "Yeah, and when she touched me, I jammed it down over her mouth -
" Bobby paused, amazed at his own courage.
     "What'd she do then?" John asked excitedly.
     "Well, I guess she made a noise and really grabbed my arm and I
sort of jumped on her. She kept pushing the rag away and I kept getting
it back, and then she sort of gave up and quit shoving at me."
     "You were on top of her? John asked. Boy, he wished it were him.
     "Sort of, like wrestling. She's strong for a girl."
     "So then what?"
     "Well, anyhow, I held it over her face a little longer and then put
it in the bag again. I was scared she might wake up. Then after that, I
got the rope and tied her hands and feet. The rest was easy."
     "Weren't you scared?" Paul was still deeply excited.
     "Yeah, man. If she sneezed when I was creeping up on her, I'd have
run right across the river.
     "But you haven't seen her yet," Cindy said. "Come on."  She ran up
the steps and opened the door. "Come on!"
     Bobby, captor of the baby-sitter, hero of SECRET SIX, followed
proudly. There was a barely perceptible hesitation in the other four. It
was if they dare not see what they were going to see, but then, John led
the way behind Bobby.
     John, Paul, Dianne and Barbara had been carrying bathing suits
rolled up in towels which they now discarded in the living room, their
feet moving forward, their caution holding them back.
     Cindy urged them on. "Well, come on. Are you scared or something?
Bobby and me ain't."
     She, of course, led the way. Bobby followed then John, Paul, Dianne
in that order, Barbara trailing. They entered the bedroom and came to
the foot of the bed. Silence followed.
     The fact that until today none of them had ever seen an adult made
helpless - bound and gagged, brought down beneath adult level, was a
fundamental experience that affected each differently. They had done the
unbelievable thing, they had captured a grown-up.
     The babysitter was theirs, for a least ten days. It was like a
dream, a wish, and indolent fantasy come all too suddenly true. Now that
they had done it, now it was fun, the adventure had begun and now they
were really in for it. What now?
     The trance was broken; the non-believable sight was believed. They
moved a foot, an arm - and they stirred from their frozen positions.
They looked, they moved around the bed; they breathed again.
     "Y'see?" Bobby said.
     "Maybe the ropes are too tight." Cindy said.
     Barbara sighed. "If they were looser, she could get away."
     "She has pretty feet." Paul said.
     "You always say that and something else, too." Cindy giggled.
     John Randall, who alone had not moved from the foot of the bed,
said, "I guess we better have a meeting about this."
     "You watch her," Bobby said to Cindy.
     "I don't want to. She isn't doing anything."
     "It's OK," John said, looking from one to another.
     "We can all come to the meeting, we can hear her if she starts
getting away." They left in single file, Bobby leading.                                 CHAPTER 4

     In the living room, John slumped on the coffee table, legs apart,
elbows on knees. Paul sat cross-legged on the rug. Dianne sat in a
chair. Cindy and Barbara lay face down on the carpet. Bobby stood by the
door.
     "OK, let's get going," Dianne said, taking charge. "We got a lot to
talk about." She produced a piece of paper and a pen.
     "We have to stand watch over her. Take turns," John said. "If she
ever gets loose..."
     Dianne added, "Cindy and Bobby at night. Us during the day." The
others nodded approval and Dianne wrote it down.
     "OK, and another thing," Bobby said, "We can't keep her tied in one
place all the time. How're we going to move her around?"
     "Why move her?" Cindy said.
     "She has to get circulation going sometime, and exercise, and she
has to go to the bathroom, like us."
     There was general giggling.
     "Yeah, but she's strong," Bobby said. "You should have seen her
this morning. I thought she was going to tear the bed apart."
     "Really?"
     "We'd better all be there when we move her," John added
thoughtfully. There's six of us, we can do it."
     "Then what about feeding her?" Cindy said.
     "Yeah, that's something too."
     "I think we ought to put her on bread and water once a day," Paul
said, "you know like in the old prisons."
     "Why?" Cindy asked. "She's not fat." - Giggles.
     "To make her weaker. Bobby says she's strong so make her weak.
Besides, we can do anything we can do anything we want with a prisoner."
Paul added, his eyes gleaming, his hands twitching.
     "What happens if we take off the gag and she starts doing a lot of
yelling?'
     "We've still got the chloroform. We can tell her if she screams,
we'll put her to sleep and not feed her at all."
     "No one can hear her way down here anyway," Dianne said cooly. "And
we'll all be here when we take off the gag. All six of us."
     "Another thing," Dianne spoke while she wrote. "Bobby and Cindy are
supposed to have a babysitter. We got to keep the house and yard neat.
We all have to chip in and keep things up. We have to," she added to the
silence with which she was heard.
     "Your right, of course," John said. "What else?"
     "Phone call," Dianne said, "and food, charged at the store and
delivered, like before." Just as if nothing was wrong.
     "Then why are we doing all this?" Cindy's smile stopped.
     "So you can do what you want, see movies on TV that you're not
allowed to see. You want to try some scotch, to smoke."
     "OK." They had general agreement.
     "What are the rules so far," John snorted.
     Dianne handed him the paper. Written on it in a neat hand.




     1. WATCH HER
     2. ALL BE THERE - MOVE HER
     3. ALL - GAG OUT
     4. BE NEAT, CLEAN UP
     5. WATCH TELEPHONE CALLS
     6. EAT - SHOP

     "Yeah, what about the telephone?" John passed the note to Paul.
Bobby leaned over his shoulder to read with him.
     "Tell everyone she's taking a bath or she's down at the beach with
the others, or she took Cindy shopping. Things like that.
     They all more or less agreed. Barbara, however, seemed distant.
     "OK, lets clean up then see if she needs anything."
     "Cool," Paul said. "That's neat."  

                               CHAPTER 5

     Nola had guessed in advance who the others were. They were stuck
down in the country with on one else to play with thus the wide age
range - ten to almost eighteen. John, big and strong, mannerly and
thoughtful to the younger ones. He was hardly one of the children and
yet not an adult. Paul, on the other hand was a mess. Small, skinny,
thin lips. Squirmy. In girlish reaction, Nola was a bit revolted yet
full of pity. Paul twitched, spoke very slowly. His eyes darted about,
a creature obviously in torment, trying to move between the real world
and the one within, visible only to him.  Dianne was thin, oldest of the
six, physically barely developed, small breasts and hips, tall and
skinny. She was neat, quiet, withdrawn, undemonstrative and chilly. Her
hair was severely pulled back, spotlessly clean and smelled nicely of
soap. She stood apart with only the occasional use of authority over the
other kids - an authority they seemed to grant her willingly for some
reason although she was unattractive. Barbara, however, was the
opposite. Pretty, large breasts and clearly defined hips, long blond
hair, very attractive for her young age. These things Nola had observed
when they were all together on Sunday, the picnic at the beach. Nola had
the authority that day. How different now.
     Nola realized now her capture had all been filed as a plan, her
indignity assured except for chance and error. The chloroform hidden
away, rope in the closet in the dark. Even Cindy primed to silence in
spite of her nature.
     How unreal their innocent splashing, their carefully taken
instructions, their casual obedience.
     What a bad job she had done in her analysis, how easily was she
made the fool. They were organized; they could plan, they could keep
secrets; they could execute and it appeared that they could keep their
composure once a commitment had been made. With a neat short plot they
had erased her advantages and made her just a girl again.
     Having heard the meeting which they took no trouble to keep secret,
Nola knew her captivity was not intended to be short. The moment of
release then retribution that she felt to lie only a short while ahead
was not here or even near.
     With that conclusion she began to hurt. Her flesh and her muscles
and tendons and body began to hurt very much. Something like her first
panic almost returned.
     "No," Nola said to herself, "I'll be calm. I won't hurt myself. I
won't scare them again. I'll be careful."
     "Help me," she said to no one, to everyone
     ...

                            CHAPTER 6

     SECRET SIX'S second visit to their captive offered subtle
possibilities. They entered the room together - very closely together -
and moved to the bed in silence. It could be guessed from their manner
and the sound of rapid shallow breathing that the wardens were more
nervous than the prisoner.
     The law had been broken, of course, and they had broken it. Since
Nola's capture had been accomplished before, however, off stage, remote
from them - all except Bobby might conveniently regard the crime as not
their's. But their meeting, their decision to go on, their confrontation
of the girl right now, things must obviously change. Now they began to
break the law hour by hour, deliberately, forewarned of all the possible
and unpleasant consequences. They became entirely responsible and
answerable for their own actions. The door to innocence, real or
pretend, had closed behind them. From now on they were bad and wrong and
to be punished. This so clearly impressed them that they looked down at
their prisoner but took care to avoid her eyes.
     Nola felt their tenseness and had the crazy impulse to laugh - if
she could have laughed - at the whole improbable scene. The captors and
their possible dangerous captive, each afraid of the other and yet each
locked in with each other. There was a hysterical edge to her thought.
     Finding after several moments that Nola remained helpless, however,
they gradually relaxed. Alright here they were, out in the open,
breaking the law between children and adults. They ignored the taboo and
nothing happened.
     "Well, what're we going to do?" John's voice was a little tight and
dry, as if he were having difficulty speaking.
     "We don't have to do anything if - "
     "I thought we were going to ask her if she wanted to go the
bathroom!" Cindy giggled at the idea.
     "If she wants to go," Dianne said. Then she said it directly to
Nola, "Do you?"
     "Ummm"
     "Do you want to go to the bathroom?" Dianne said with painful
clarity. "We can take you."
     Nola looked up at her and closed her eyes. The situation was more
desperately impossible than she had foreseen. Going to the bathroom with
six youngsters in tow. First, she thought she'd never go again rather
than this. On the other hand - caution slowed her  the matter would have
to be faced sometime if they held to their plans, and anything was
better than simply being forced to lie there forever.
     The other thought skipped through her mind, of course. She hardly
dared to think it lest the kids somehow read her mind. This might be a
chance to break free.
     "She wants to go," Paul said. Squirming from foot to foot, he now
seemed to be enjoying himself.
     "OK, now, like we talked about it," John said. "Are you ready?"
     "Yeah" - Bobby had some more rope in his hand - "but remember,
she's strong for a girl if you let her even a little bit loose."
     "I won't." John retorted. "Let's do it."
     "Well, OK, I'll tie her hand first."


     With one piece of new rope he had brought, Bobby tied her
right wrist just above where it was already tied. Then he took the free
end and squatted beside the bed. "Now we'll run it through here.
     Nola watched them a little apprehensively. She could not see all
they were doing, and she was afraid it might hurt.
     Bobby straightened up. "OK, now, when I untie her hand up here, you
all hold her arm and move it down there and, Paul, pull on your end."
     "All right," Dianne sighed. "Just do it, will you?"
     "OK, that's it." Bobby jumped up from the head of the bed. "Move
her - hurry up." He went around to help Paul.
     The plan, at last, became clear to Nola and to everyone. At no time
was she to be free. When Bobby released her wrist from the headboard it
was already tied by a longer rope to the lower part of the frame; all
they had to do was to move her one defenceless arm down more or less by
her side while Paul took up the slack. She was helpless at each instant
of the operation.
     "There, see?" It did work.
     "Yeah..."
     They all straightened up.
     Nola now lay, legs still apart, one arm tied down by her side and
the other up to the headboard. It didn't really hurt, at least no more
than before, but it was frustrating and disappointing. At no time could
she have doe so much as free that one hand, even for a minute.
     Paul gave her one of his squirmy little smiles and looked around
for approval.
     "Let's do the rest of it."
     With the same care they brought her other hand down by her side and
tied it too. Her shoulders, stiff and sore from the hours of unnatural
position throbbed. Here at last was circulation, movement.
     "Now she has to sit up."
     "What if she won't?" Cindy said. "How're you going to make her do
it?"
     "She's the one who wants to go to the bathroom. If she doesn't we
can always put her back the other way."
     "Yeah," Bobby said. "Sit up." It was the first thing like a command
that they had given her, and he did so with hesitation in his voice.
     For the same reason Nola held back, just slightly. The lessons were
painfully few yet she seemed to have so much trouble learning them. Nola
must realize that even though they were kids, beneath her, they were
absolutely in command. There was no alternative with dignity. She would
obey, or she would be returned to a less pleasant position, and this
would be repeated until she submitted. She sighed and then being a
swimmer in good condition, managed to do the sit up demanded.
     Bobby passed the rope around her body. "Now we tie her arms to her
sides."
     This was done. After that, her left wrist was released and tied up
behind her back with a rope up over her right shoulder, crossing her
body between her breasts, hooked under her elbow and returned to her
wrist. It was like twisting her arm and holding it there.





     They were so cautious, everything took so much time and so well
done that Nola began to grow irritated. All right, she was doing what
they wanted; she couldn't get away - she knew it, they knew it - why so
much fuss? When they got ready to move her legs together, she
impatiently did it for them, or nearly did before she fell over
backwards.
     Cindy laughed but Bobby, remembering her struggle this morning,
quickly hobbled her ankles before she could kick out at someone. He
seemed almost fearful when he released the rest of the rope that held
her to the bed.
     "What about her other hand?"
     "She needs one free, stupid. Besides, she can't do much with the
elbow tied like that."
     "Can she get up now?" Barbara's first comment.
     "Yeah, I guess so." They had to swing her feet over the side of the
bed and help her sit up again.
     "How are you going to get her to go just where you want her to?"
     "Well - " Bobby hadn't thought of that.
     "I know. Put a rope around her neck," Paul said. As he did when
speaking most of the time, he sort of ducked his head like struggling to
say a difficult word.
     "Yeah! that way, if she doesn't follow, we can choke her and pull
her down."
     "Sit up!" Bobby ordered. He didn't hesitate this time. Nor did she.
Nola actually leaned towards him.
     "Here - " Bobby looped his last long length of rope around her neck
with ends trailing in front and in back. "One of us goes in front and
one of us behind and if she doesn't behave, each one pulls."
     This was frightening. Nola looked from one child to the other. The
shoulder of her shortie nightgown was no longer on her shoulder, and she
felt a little bare.
     "Choke her?" Barbara said. Cindy giggled.
     "Don't worry. Not unless we have to."
     "I'll lead," Paul said quickly.
     "No, you won't," Dianne said. "Let Bobby and John do it, and you
follow."
     "He likes that better," Cindy giggled as Paul blushed.
     All right, she would go. More than anything else she wanted to get
this over quickly.
     "OK, stand up."
     She tried and found out she couldn't do it without the fear of
falling forward. "Ull mmm" she said.
     They looked at her blankly. All her sounds seemed the same.
     "Help me," Dianne translated, a smirk on her face.
     Obediently, John and Dianne took her bare arms and helped her to
stand. Briefly, she sensed that they were stronger than she would have
guessed. Then Bobby gave a timid tug of the rope around her neck. It
worked as he had said and she turned and followed him, the rest coming
behind.




     The trip down the hall seemed almost too long. Nola was hobbled
just above the ankles and the loops were too tight. When she stood up
and put her weight on her legs, they swelled and the ropes cut in.
Moreover, he had hobbled her too closely so she advanced only by short
little slides, no more than ten inches a move. Finally her feet finished
each step nearly in line so that it was like walking a tight rope. She
was afraid of falling and kept her right hand out to steady herself
against the wall as they went.
     When the slow procession reached the bathroom at last, Dianne told
the rest, "You can't see," and let Nola slide in ahead while Dianne
stood inside against the wall near the door, her gaze primly averted.


                            CHAPTER 7

     "Well, we have to feed her sometime," John said.
     "How'll we get the gag back in her mouth if she doesn't want us
to?" Cindy said. "She might bite."
     "First of all what if she starts yelling, you mean?"
     "That's easy," Paul gave a twisted shrug. "Let John have a
pillow, and if she does, he wraps it over her face."
     "She'd smother," Bobby said.
     "Just for a little while, while we open the chloroform and then we
put her to sleep. Then she's easy to gag."
     "Somebody better stand guard and watch the road in case anyone
drives in when she isn't gagged."
     "You want to do that, Cindy?"
     "No, I want to watch."
     "I'll stay out," Barbara stated. She did not want to see it.
     "No, we might need you."
     "I'm only out her, besides it's Paul's turn. If he wants to
chloroform her, let him try it. Bobby's already done it."
     "Finish your sandwich, Paul. Hurry up. "Dianne was already
straightening up - "It's getting late."
     "Yeah, and I want to go swimming after my hour." Cindy licked her
fingers slowly...
     The kids approached Nola more familiarly now.
     She was back in her room but sitting in a chair to which they tied
her over an hour ago. Half the rope would have done the job but the more
they used the safer they felt.
     This was apparent in the way they lounged around while Dianne
explained about the pillow over the face and the chloroform and the
look-out to watch the road.  "Now, will you be quiet if we take your gag
out?"
     Nola nodded. Her jaws ached from being spread.
     Since the boys never offered to touch Nola unless they had work to
do, Dianne removed the adhesive tape. As usual Bobby had used a lot and
it took a long time, strip by strip, each one protested by Nola. When
they were finally gone, balled up and discarded with the paper trash for
burning, Dianne reached into the woman's mouth and pulled out the damp
terry-cloth wad. Nola swallowed immediately and painfully, and extended
her tongue to touch her dry lips.
     "Can I have a glass of water?"
     At the sound of her voice, John and Paul stiffened slightly. This
clearly was the beginning of danger.
     "I won't scream," Nola said carefully, seeing their agitation.
     DON'T LOSE YOUR HEAD WHEN THEY UNGAG YOU. TALK TO THEM. BE CALM.
Nola had planned some strategy.
     "I'll get some," Cindy fled.
     "Turn on the TV, loud," John called after her. He was still quite
nervous.
     "I won't scream," Nola repeated in a low steady voice. When no one
said anything she added, "You can put down the pillow and bottle. I
know. I won't make any trouble."
     Dianne, also tense, seemed to relax. "Alright, then. I'll get you
something."
     "What?"
     Dianne turned and left the room. "Cereal," she said over her
shoulder.
     "I want more than that!"
     "That's all you are going to get," Paul instantly picked up the
bottle again; the cloth was visible inside and his fingers were on the
lid. "You're on a prisoner's diet."
     "You - " Nola stopped herself and sighed. "That's not going to make
me any weaker, Paul, just hungrier."
     "Well, you're still on it," he shut his lips tightly.
     There was silence.
     "The more you do to me, the more you'll get punished, you know."
Nola finally said. She could not bring herself to say more, to grant
them additional powers. "What do you suppose they'll do to you for
this?"
     The boys acknowledged her shot. Paul became embarrassed, knowing
full well what he could expect and looked down at the rug. Dianne was
not to old for the strap either, Paul knew. Behind Nola, John remained
silent. Bobby and Cindy knew some things too. Barbara, like John, was
silent.
     "Why don't you have another meeting and talk about it? You know
what's going to happen to each of you - decide what's best. If you keep
on going you'll be in even worse trouble. If you let me go now, I'll -"
Nola was still ticked off - "I'll think about it. We'll all take a swim
and talk about it."
     The boys silence became concrete and cold. Paul knew the strap
well.
     "Isn't that better than what your going to get this way?"
     Nothing.
     After a bit, Dianne came back with cereal on a tray and, being
Dianne, a napkin. "What were you talking about?" She set the things on
the vanity.
     Paul's relief at seeing his sister was pathetic. He writhed in
gratitude. "She wants us to let her go. She says she might not tell on
us."
     Dianne snorted in a lady-like way. "Can we move her over here?"
     "But what's going to happen to all of you after this?"
     "We don't want to talk. Come on." Getting over on the opposite side
of the chair from John, Dianne helped him slide Nola up to the small
vanity.
     Nola sighed again and shook her head.
     "Here's the water."
     Dianne took it slowly from Cindy and held it to Nola's lips.
     "Aren't you going to untie at least one hand." The caution, the
insistence on detail, the silence, the refusal to be sensible or
communicate with her brought Nola close to losing her patience. "I can't
run away on one hand."
     "It's too much trouble."
     "But, I want to feed myself."
     "I know, but it's too much trouble. It takes too much time, and
every one wants to go swimming." Dianne said. "Do you want this or not?"



     Nola looked at her - she felt crushed - and nodded. It was metallic
well water, however, it was cool and healing and smooth. The sheer
comfort to her throat erased part of her irritation, and when Dianne
asked if she wanted the cereal, she simply nodded again and submitted to
being fed.
     Afterwards, Nola felt the tension in the room begin to rise again.
The boys positively radiated it. Paul picked up the bottle again,
excited.
     "Wait a minute!"
     They waited.
     "You don't have to gag me again. Nobody's coming, I won't make any
noise if they do - " She looked mostly at Dianne.
     Instead of diminishing the tenseness, however, she only seemed to
increase it. Even Dianne looked warily across at John, who reached over
and fingered the pillow.
     "But it hurts," Nola looked from one to the other now. "I can't
move my tongue or swallow. Can't you think of something else without
that rag? I've had it in my mouth all day. Even last night."
     They appeared unyielding and yet reluctant to force her quiet yet.
     "Can't you tie something around my mouth or just use adhesive tape
if you have to?"
     "You can talk through a gag like that," Paul retorted.
     "And you can lick the tape off," Cindy squealed.
     Nola hung her head and breathed deeply. They were probably right at
that. "Alright, but you're not ready to go swimming yet. Can't you at
least leave me alone for a few minutes?"
     She raised her head and tried to look over her shoulder. "Please,
I'm begging."  She hated to say that, to increase their power while
degrading her further. But -
     "OK, for a few minutes."
     They all left the room to change into their swimsuits, and, when
they came back they meant pure business.
     "Thank you," she said, bitterly and opened her mouth for them.
     After that nothing - just tape and numbness and immobility and
silence.
     With a whoop of relief, SECRET SIX banged out of the house and down
the path towards the river, leaving Dianne to watch the prisoner first.
Nola tried to make sounds to get her attention several times, but, it
was no use; being ignored by her only made Nola's ears and cheeks burn
with anger and humiliation. And she was ignored.
     Dianne curled up on the bed behind Nola and began to read. Nola had
heard of the book not long ago - it seemed to adult for Dianne - a men's
book about mythology and ancient times which were often sexy and
sometimes gruesome if what she had heard was only half right. Dianne
read with absorption: Nola could see her by looking in the vanity mirror
and then backwards over her own shoulders.
     The girl's face was pale and stern and distant. If Nola had been
able to speak to her, she would not have been sure of getting an answer
at all.
     ...


                            CHAPTER 8

     It was evening but still light. John Randall had helped with the
dishes and separated the trash, then descended his veranda steps and
stood looking between sky and earth.
     The Randall house was next upriver form Nola's, the dividing line
being the creek. The evening was pleasant enough. The wind was still,
the river reflecting twilight was blue and clean and its surface only
slightly rippled. By contrast, the creek was sunk in shadow to the left:
in another twenty minutes it would merge with the dark stand of pine on
Nola's property. Lightning bugs were out, frogs disputed, a faint smell
of dust came from the cooling ground, all pleasant enough. But to John,
not so. In many ways, it even appeared as the confines of a prison, not
so much one of place as on of process, a system from which he could not
escape or even imagine escape. He was growing up. Plans were laid. Two
years and then college, another four and get a job, and then what? John
wanted freedom now. By nature, by size, weight, strength, intelligence
and desire, he was ready. He was ready for girls and love and his spirit
was bent under the weight of years that separated him from these things.
When you wanted it you couldn't have it and when you got it you were too
old and boring like everyone else. It quenched ambition - growing up
simply took too long. Nothing that was offered was worth a good goddamm.
The world was trying to kill him. Well, the hell with them all. He would
play the game, but...
     He was alert now, wholly engaged, mentally charged, and ever
impatient. If he had been vague for several days, it was only because he
was suddenly dazzled. Without expecting to or intending to, he had
stumbled into life; though he dare tell no one, he all at once felt
himself to be living. He went to the dock and slipped into his rowboat.
There, not twenty years away, lay his new life. Go up the clay bank,
through the woods by the path, across the field and you'd be at the
house. It wouldn't take forty-five minutes and he would see Nola again
and be back. Unfortunately, of course, they had all agreed to do nothing
unusual to attract attention, and normally he never went over there at
night. He sat savouring a new feeling of miserable bliss.
     Actually, when it comes to sheer exposure of flesh, John Randall
had seen much more of Nola at swimming then he ever had today. Her
bikini bathing suit worn unconsciously in their presence, left only a
little to the imagination and while John admired her more than he hoped
was noticeable, still it was somewhat abstract admiration.
     Nola was fun and friendly and a good swimmer. She was almost like
one of them but it frosted him that she took it for granted that all
kids were dumb and all they ever thought of was staying in line and
having fun - good and well-behaved - was a real put down.
     Her stupid, cheerful bossiness, that coercion he could forgive in
someone much older, but in her, it aggravated.
     How different today.
     John had been scared and embarrassed this morning.
     Nola was tied and gagged pretty well. They had her but he felt that
something terrific was going to happen now. The afternoon had been
great, the greatest experience he had ever had. He did not know exactly
what it was; it was just something about the way she acted.

     When it was his turn to watch her and Dianne had left to keep
an eye on the kids at the beach, he went into the bedroom and Nola was
looking at him as if something different was going to happen. Something
about the smooth back of her neck, the curve of her shoulders, the way