The Pillow Friend by Lisa Tuttle

her and she kissed his cold, hard face. Then up she scrambled and, never letting go of him, replaced the shoes and their boxes. Shuddering, she picked up each piece of silk between forefinger and thumb and dropped it into the shoe box which had been his prison.
    She went straight to her bed without bothering to check the time or tell her sisters. There, alone in the dark, with Myles on her pillow as of old, she could speak to him.
    “I looked for you everywhere,” she whispered. “Everywhere I could think of. I never thought my mom would have hidden you; I thought you must have run away yourself. I guess I'll have to hide you now, we'll have to be really careful. Will she know you're gone? Does she ever look in that box? Why did she take you?”
    She wants me dead.
    The sound of that voice, faint as a breath yet absolutely clear, set up a prickling shiver all over her skin. There could be no doubt that he had spoken. She had certainly not imagined it; she was nowhere near sleep. She could think of nothing to say.
    That's why she bound me. To stop me growing. To stop me being. I was getting stronger when I was with you, but I'm so much weaker now.
    “You're safe now,” she whispered, then clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering.
    No. Not safe here, not in this house. Never safe here. She'll find me.
    “No, she doesn't know all my hiding places. I'll keep moving you, I'll keep you with me, you'll be safe with me.”
    I'm only safe away from here. Away from her.
    “But—will you come back? Will I ever see you again?”
    Away from her, I can grow. And when I've grown too big for her to hurt me, I'll come back for you.
    She shivered, feeling a little sick. “Where will you go?”
    You'll have to take me outside. Take me away from the house, put me somewhere safe.
    Into her mind came the image of the huge old oak on the corner in front of Mr. and Mrs. Darwin's house. She remembered Leslie's dream of treasure and thought of the cubbyhole. Her mother would never look there, no adult ever would.
    “I think I know somewhere you'd be safe.”
    Take me there.
    She got up and went quietly down the stairs, barefoot and in her nightgown, with Myles clutched tightly in one hand. She could hear the television, and knew that her sisters would be too absorbed in some drama to wonder about her. The sound of the television would cover the sound of the carefully opened and closed door and, with a little bit of luck, she'd be able to get back inside just as safely.
    This was like old times, like one of her dares, only this time she didn't have to wonder if Myles would approve; this time he'd told her precisely what he wanted.
    The ice-cold pavement of the driveway burned her bare feet, but she was too excited by the promise of the dark and glittering night, by this dangerous and necessary adventure shared with Myles, to mind the cold. Her breath formed clouds before her face, and she pretended she was holding a cigarette, exhaling dramatically like Aunt Marjorie.
    She broke into a run and that stopped her shivering. She ran in a broken, weaving pattern, hiding behind every bush or tree, to minimize her chances of being seen. But many of the windows she passed were dark, and those that were lighted had curtains pulled across to shut out the cold, dark night. Their neighbors who were still awake would have their attention turned inward, toward the television set or each other, without a thought to spare for whatever might be outside. She saw no one, not even a passing dog or wandering cat. She and Myles were the only living creatures out in the cold, streetlamp-lit night. The front of Leslie's house was all dark, but she gave it a wave as she went galloping past.
    She could see one light shining out from the side of the Darwins' house—she thought it was the bathroom—but had no fear of being observed. In her excitement, anyway, she was past such petty fears. She knew she would not be caught; Myles would protect her. She thought it