Zeely by Virginia Hamilton

night. He felt his back grow cold.
    “I thought it was just Zeely Tayber,” he said.
    “No,” Geeder said.
    “It stopped right by the path to the house,” Toeboy said.
    “Toeboy, did it do anything?” Geeder asked.
    Toeboy nodded, watching the trees. He crouched next to Geeder and his voice began to tremble as he spoke. “I thought it was going to say something,” he said. “I was sitting right out in front of the lilac bush and it was looking at me. And you know what it did, Geeder?”
    “What?” she said. She put one hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer.
    “It moved real funny,” he said, “and I got the feeling it didn’t want me to say anything. I guess it didn’t like noise.”
    “Oh, Toeboy!” Geeder said. “Can you just think what it would have done if you had made a sound!”
    Toeboy tried to swallow but he couldn’t. He remembered he had said good evening to what he thought was Miss Zeely Tayber. “What do you think it would have done?” he asked.
    “Why, it would come back some night,” Geeder said. “It would wait until you were asleep!”
    An awful fear welled inside Toeboy. The night traveller was sure to get him because he had talked to it. He wanted to get away from the old trees around him and Geeder. He wanted to be as close to Uncle Ross as he could get.
    All at once, Geeder jumped to her feet and started to run. Toeboy fell flat on the ground and covered his head with his arms. His eyes were closed tight and Geeder, seeing him, had to laugh.
    “Silly!” she called. “Nothing’s going to get you in broad daylight. It’s the hog drive—did you forget?”
    Toeboy lifted his head.
    “There’s Zeely to see,” Geeder said. “And don’t you worry about the night traveller. You just stay close to me.”

11
    “JUST LOOK AT ALL the people!” Geeder had not thought so many folks could fit on the main street. The mood was right for a parade. The children were all there, the ones who had been at the bonfire the night before and still others who had heard the story of Zeely.
    “Let’s get closer!” Geeder grabbed Toeboy by the arm and pushed her way through the children at the curbs until she was right in front. Now she could see all the folks talking in small groups at the corners. They would glance curiously at the children and then quickly away.
    “They don’t want us to know why they’re here,” she said, “but I know why. They’ve come to see Zeely just like we have!”
    Before Nat Tayber reached the center of the village, the air held the smell of hogs. The scent caught in the mist not yet evaporated by the sun. Wild, piercing squeals cut through the musky odor as Nat and his boys used their poles. Geeder shivered and crossed her fingers so the animals would not get hurt badly. People poured forth from stores and shops, taking up positions on both sides of the street. There were women in bonnets against the mist, with loaded shopping bags and baskets. There were farm people in their coveralls and wide-brim hats. There were all kinds of people there—townspeople, country folk and hordes of near-hysterical boys and girls, unable to speak for fear they might spoil what was to come.
    “Geeder, I’m going,” Toeboy said. “I want to go back to Uncle Ross.”
    “Toeboy, what’s wrong with you?” Geeder said. She couldn’t believe she had heard him right.
    “I don’t like it here,” he said, “and I don’t want to see those animals hurt.” He was thinking about the night traveller and wondering what it would do when it caught up with him.
    “Oh, don’t be dumb, Toeboy! They won’t get hurt,” Geeder said. “Zeely won’t let them get hurt. You stay right where you are.”
    “How will she keep them from getting hurt?” Toeboy asked.
    “She won’t let them, that’s all,” Geeder said. “Don’t you worry.”
    “Let me go,” Toeboy pleaded. “I don’t want to see the hogs run any more.”
    Geeder ignored him, holding on to him tightly as the