Lydia's Heart
by Jim Aikin (2007)
Genres: Horror

"Lydia's Heart" is a large, complex game with a serious tone and seven or eight NPCs you can converse with. The genre is low-key horror: There's almost no actual blood, but there are several ways to die in a very frightening way. Various bits of magical fantasy are included in a basically real-world setting. This game is version 2. 0 of "Last Resort." The story is the same, but it's not simply a TADS port of the original -- there are more rooms and about 18 entirely new puzzles. The author recommends that you play "Lydia's Heart," not "Last Resort." You play the part of 14-year-old Diane Lindsay. You have been dragged off by your Aunt Caroline to a run-down motor court in rural Mississippi for reasons that are not initially clear. As you explore the motor court, you'll meet various creepy people and overhear a murder being committed. You'll meet a ghost named Lydia, who (if you can figure out how to make friends with her) will tell you why you've been brought here, and why you must get away before the afternoon is over.

action: About you
response: No need even to look in the mirror - you know perfectly well what you look like, having inspected every detail often enough. Your legs are a little too long and your knees a little knobby, but your face is cute and blessedly free of zits. Your long blond hair is one of your better features. And you're already starting to have a figure, which is pretty good considering you're only fourteen. Today you're wearing nothing special, just slacks and a shirt and some sneakers.
action: You examine the dress
response: The dress is an achingly pure white. It's old-fashioned, with puffy sleeves, a long skirt, and lacy frills at the wrists and neckline.
action: You wear the dress
response: (first taking the white dress)
You consider stripping off your slacks and top and trying on the white dress, but three things stop you. First, you're mad at Aunt Caroline for hauling you all the way down here, so you really don't want to give her the pleasure of trying on the dress she insisted on bringing for you. Second, you want to spend the afternoon looking around this dumpy motel to see if there's anything fun to do, and the dress would surely get dirty. Third, it would look really tacky with your sneakers.
action: You take the dress
response: You are already carrying the white dress.
action: You look around
response: The interior of this rustic motel room has seen better days.
Bedspreads the color of mud cover the twin beds, though not in a very tidy way. The plaster on one wall is discolored in mottled patches, and the tacky wood-grain wallpaper on another wall is starting to peel. Years of grime have been ground into the carpet. A murky painting of some ducks fails to add a sporty air.

Curtains the color of old pea soup hang beside the window to the left of the door. A chipped and scarred dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.
action: You look at the window
response: The window is none too clean. It looks out on a strip of bare dirt and the run-down cabins opposite.
action: You look at the dresser
response: The dresser is built of cheap pressboard. It has three drawers.
action: You open the top drawer
response: Opening the top drawer reveals Aunt Caroline's clothes.
action: You drop the dress
response: You lay the dress carefully on the bed near the door.
action: You close top drawer
response: Closed.
action: You open the middle drawer
response: Opening the middle drawer reveals your other clothes.
action: You open the bottom drawer
response: Opened.
action: You examine the bottom drawer
response: It's an ordinary dresser drawer. It's open.
action: You look in the bottom drawer
response: The bottom drawer seems to be empty.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: The interior of this rustic motel room has seen better days.
Bedspreads the color of mud cover the twin beds, though not in a very tidy way. The plaster on one wall is discolored in mottled patches, and the tacky wood-grain wallpaper on another wall is starting to peel. Years of grime have been ground into the carpet. A murky painting of some ducks fails to add a sporty air.

Curtains the color of old pea soup hang beside the window to the left of the door. A chipped and scarred dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.

On the bed near the door is a white dress.
action: You examine the patch
response: The word "patch" is not necessary in this story.

(If this was an accidental misspelling, you can correct it by typing OOPS followed by the corrected word now. Any time the story points out an unknown word, you can correct a misspelling using OOPS as your next command.)
action: You look at the painting
response: The ducks are swimming on a pond, that much you can make out. The background is very murky, however. You have the vague impression that something large and sinister is lurking, about to pounce on the ducks.
action: You examine the curtains
response: The curtains droop sadly.
action: You open the top drawer
response: Opening the top drawer reveals Aunt Caroline's clothes.
action: You search top drawer
response: The top drawer contains Aunt Caroline's clothes.
action: You examine the caroline's clothes
response: Aunt Caroline's things - principally cashmere sweaters and blouses with big floppy bows at the neckline - are neatly folded in the top drawer.
action: You open the curtains
response: You glance at the curtains and instantly dismiss them as unimportant.
action: You wear the caroline's clothes
response: Aunt Caroline wouldn't be happy to learn you were disarranging her things. Anyway, there's nothing useful in the drawer.
action: You close the drawer
response: You close the top drawer.
action: You open the middle drawer
response: Opening the middle drawer reveals your other clothes.
action: You search your clothes
response: (your other clothes)
You lift a couple of garments to peek beneath them, and decide there's really nothing in the drawer that you need at the moment. No cell phone, anyway - you've checked for that half a dozen times.
action: You look under beds
response: bed near the door: The box springs are sagging, and there's a scatter of tiny dry brown pellets that might be mouse droppings. Nothing interesting, though.

bed near the bathroom: The box springs are sagging, and there's a scatter of tiny dry brown pellets that might be mouse droppings. Nothing interesting, though.
action: You close the drawer
response: You close the middle drawer.
action: Go south
response: The interior of the closet is a dim and cramped little box. It smells powerfully of mold.

You see Aunt Caroline's suitcase and your suitcase here.
action: You look at the suitcases
response: your suitcase: Your suitcase is small and blue. It's closed.

Aunt Caroline's suitcase: Aunt Caroline's suitcase is much bigger than yours, and in better condition too. The suitcase is creamy white, with brass fittings, which include a latch with a little keyhole. It's closed.
action: You open the caroline's suitcase
response: Opened.
action: You look in the caroline's suitcase
response: Aunt Caroline's suitcase is empty.
action: Close suitcase
response: Closed.
action: You look in your suitcase
response: Your suitcase is empty.
action: Describe the surroundings
response: The interior of the closet is a dim and cramped little box. It smells powerfully of mold.

You see Aunt Caroline's suitcase and your suitcase here.
action: You go north
response: The interior of this rustic motel room has seen better days.
Bedspreads the color of mud cover the twin beds, though not in a very tidy way. The plaster on one wall is discolored in mottled patches, and the tacky wood-grain wallpaper on another wall is starting to peel. Years of grime have been ground into the carpet. A murky painting of some ducks fails to add a sporty air.

Curtains the color of old pea soup hang beside the window to the left of the door. A chipped and scarred dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.

On the bed near the door is a white dress.
action: Go west
response: (first trying to open the bathroom door)
The bathroom door seems to be locked.
action: You knock on the door
response: You tap on the door, and from within the bathroom Aunt Caroline says in an irritated tone, "Yes, dear? What is it?"
action: You ask Caroline about the dress
response: "I can't hear you, dear," Aunt Caroline calls. "Can't you see I'm in the bathroom?"
action: You tell Caroline i hate her
response: The story doesn't understand that command. Please use ASK ACTOR ABOUT TOPIC (or just A TOPIC).
action: Go east
response: As you head out the door of the cabin, Aunt Caroline's voice rises behind you: "Be sure you're back here by 6:30 sharp so you can dress for the sunset picnic!"

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots, suggesting that at one time the open area might have been used as a croquet court.

You're standing between Cabin Five (to the west) and Cabin Two (to the east). The croquet court continues north and south from here. Further to the north you can see a dusty stretch of lawn beside the house, and some distance to the south are the brackish, unhealthy-looking waters of a swamp.
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 2:30.
action: You examine the croquet
response: The croquet hoops are bent and rusted. There are only a few of them, and they're jammed into the ground in a haphazard pattern. Looking around, you can see no evidence that Eternal Springs possesses any croquet balls or mallets - not that a game of croquet seems like a very good idea right now.
action: You examine the Cabin
response: Which cabin do you mean, Cabin Five, or Cabin Two?
action: You examine the Cabin five
response: The rustic motel cabin may have been attractive fifty years ago, but time has not been kind to it. Its paint is weathered and peeling, and the siding is warped. A tarnished brass number '5' is nailed above the door.
action: You examine Cabin two
response: The rustic motel cabin may have been attractive fifty years ago, but time has not been kind to it. Its paint is weathered and peeling, and the siding is warped. A tarnished brass number '2' is nailed above the door.
action: You go east
response: (first opening the door of Cabin Two)
You tap tentatively on the door of Cabin Two. After a moment the door swings open and a solemn, dignified man stands before you. He's well dressed in tan slacks and polished shoes, and he has a full head of silvery, wavy hair.

He peers down at you with an air that's suave but somehow a little uncertain. "Hello, there, youngster. I don't believe we've met. I'm Reverend Jimmy Gillespie." His voice is smoothly resonant, with just a hint of Arkansas twang. After a moment's hesitation, he extends his hand and allows you to shake it. You can smell his minty after-shave.

You introduce yourself and tell him you're down from New York with your aunt. He looks faintly bored, as if this isn't news to him - which is peculiar, as you're quite certain Aunt Caroline never mentioned knowing any minister, or planning to meet one here. Aunt Caroline is not religious.

"I trust you're enjoyin' your stay," he says. You manage to avoid rolling your eyes, but only just.
action: You ask Gillespie about the death
response: "Death and dyin'?" Gillespie looks momentarily nonplussed. "I'm sure that's not something you need concern yourself with, not at such a young age. No, indeed."
action: You ask Jimmy about Jimmy
response: Reverend Gillespie gazes at you speculatively. You have the impression that behind those bland gray eyes, wheels are spinning about a million miles an hour. "Me? I'm no one special," he says. Somehow, in his mouth, the phrase sounds as if it means just the opposite - as if he's telling you something you ought to be impressed by. "God has blessed me with a ministry. Inadequate as I am, I exert myself unstintingly to do His will and carry His message. I'm hopin' that in the near future I'll be able to uplift the hearts of sinners from coast to coast.
We're plannin' to build a magnificent modern cathedral. With televised services, naturally."
action: You ask Gillespie about Caroline
response: You ask the Reverend if he knows your aunt. "We've met," he says carefully. "She seems a very upstanding woman. I'm sure you've had a decent Christian upbringing."
action: You ask Gillespie about the picnic
response: When you ask Reverend Gillespie what's so special about the sunset picnic tonight, he smiles beatifically. "You'll see," he says. "Oh, my, yes. You'll see."
action: You ask Gillespie about satan
response: Gillespie looks bored. "Very interesting, I'm sure, but I don't imagine it concerns me."
action: You ask Reverend about the eternal Springs
response: Reverend Gillespie shrugs. "There aren't too many authentic Southern establishments like this any more. It has a certain rustic charm, don't you agree?"
action: You ask Gillespie about swamp
response: Gillespie smiles a meaningless smile. "My, but it's hot this afternoon."
action: You ask Gillespie about the god
response: The minister's face brightens. "I'm so glad you're concerned to learn more about your eternal soul, and how you can armor yourself against the wickedness of the world." But then a cloud passes across his countenance. "On the other hand, in the circumstances.... Well, I guess you can't make an omelet without breakin' eggs, heh-heh." He pats your shoulder sadly but affectionately - pretty much, you can't help thinking, the way he would pat a puppy that was about to be put to sleep.
action: Go east
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots, suggesting that at one time the open area might have been used as a croquet court.

You're standing between Cabin Five (to the west) and Cabin Two (to the east). The croquet court continues north and south from here. Further to the north you can see a dusty stretch of lawn beside the house, and some distance to the south are the brackish, unhealthy-looking waters of a swamp.
action: You go south
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Six (to the west) and Cabin Three (to the east). The croquet court continues north from here. To the south, a little slope ends at the watery edge of a swamp, and a path to the southwest leads toward a good-sized shed that stands at the edge of the water.
action: Go west
response: Cabin Six is a lot like Cabin Five. Twin beds with ugly brown bedspreads haphazardly made up, water-stained plaster and peeling wallpaper, a grimy carpet. A faded painting of a flop-eared hound dog entirely fails to add cheer to the room. Tattered curtains hang across the window, which is to the left of the door.

The dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.
action: You examine the painting
response: The dog in the painting has long droopy ears and equally droopy jowls. He looks either bored or ill.
action: You open the drawers
response: You open the drawers.
action: You look in the drawer
response: The top drawer seems to be empty.
action: You look in the middle drawer
response: The middle drawer seems to be empty.
action: You close the drawer
response: You close the bottom drawer.
action: Go south
response: The interior of the closet is a dim and cramped little box. It smells powerfully of mold.
action: Go west
response: (first opening the bathroom door)

The bathroom is barely big enough to turn around in. There's a narrow shower stall, a minuscule, rust-stained sink above which is a cracked, flyspecked mirror, and a commode. The towels stacked on the rack are thin, frayed at the edges, and probably none too clean. A tiny window provides a very little air.

The door leads eastward.
action: You examine the shower
response: The bathroom fixtures are all really depressing. This motel is such a dump.
action: You take a the shower
response: (the bathroom fixtures)
Nothing in the bathroom is good for anything other than ... you know, what it's good for.
action: You look in the mirror
response: Nothing in the bathroom is good for anything other than ... you know, what it's good for.
action: You go north
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads east, back to cabin six.
action: You go east
response: (first trying to open the door of Cabin Three)
You tap hesitantly on the door of Cabin Three. After a few moments, a low voice from within says, "I'm sorry - I'm taking a nap. Perhaps you could come back a little later."
action: Go south
response: The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.
action: Go west
response: A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built, and there's a shiny new lock on the door.

You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.
action: You go south
response: (first trying to open the boat shed door)
The boat shed door seems to be locked.
action: You examine the lock
response: The padlock is hanging from the hasp.
action: Go southwest
response: The ground descends here to the muddy edge of the swamp. A small window is set high in the plank wall of the shed, which stands to your east. A path to the north leads back to the front of the shed.

You see a wooden bucket here.
action: You take the bucket
response: Taken.
action: You examine the bucket
response: It's an old-fashioned, leaky-looking wooden bucket.
action: You go east
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads north, back to the front of the boat shed.
action: You look at the window
response: The window is small and square, and the glass is none too clean. The window is about six feet off the ground - too high for you to see into, even on tiptoe.
action: You drop the bucket
response: Dropped.
action: You turn the bucket over
response: You turn the bucket over.
action: You look in the window
response: By placing the bucket next to the wall and standing on it, you're able to see in the window. It's so dim in the shed that at first it's hard to see anything, but as your eyes adjust (and brushing off a little spot to make the glass cleaner helps too), you're able to make out a dock within the shed. The dock extends from the north side, by the door, out into a dull sheen of rippling water that fills the floor of the room. There are two boats in the shed, a large, shiny power boat and a little rowboat. Evidently this is where the watercraft at Eternal Springs are kept.
action: You take the bucket
response: You pick up the bucket.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: The ground descends here to the muddy edge of the swamp. A small window is set high in the plank wall of the shed, which stands to your east. A path to the north leads back to the front of the shed.
action: You go to the north
response: The open area behind the western row of cabins is thinly carpeted with scruffy, dusty weeds. A large, rusted incinerator stands in the middle of the open space. A scraggly tree has set down roots quite close to the leftmost of the three cabins whose rear walls form a barrier to the east.

To the south is the shed at the edge of the swamp. You can go north to the area in front of the run-down shack, where the motel's dusty van is parked. The overgrown, junk-strewn garden beside the shack is to the west.
action: You look at the incinerator
response: The incinerator is the size of a large garbage can. Its rusted metal sides are pierced by large holes.
action: You look in the incinerator
response: The incinerator contains some ashes.
action: You examine the ashes
response: The ashes and charred scraps at the bottom of the incinerator are gray and unidentifiable.
action: You examine the Cabins
response: The rear walls of three cabins stand in a blocky, unattractive row along the east side of this open space. A scraggly tree is growing behind Cabin Four, obscuring much of it, but the rears of Cabins Five and Six are bare. Each of them is an unbroken expanse of weathered gray planks except for a small window (presumably the bathroom window) set quite high off the ground.
action: You look in the window
response: The bathroom windows are set too far off the ground for you to be able to see in. (Anyway, you already know what the inside of a bathroom looks like.)
action: You take the bucket
response: You pick up the bucket.
action: You climb the tree
response: From this perch in the midst of the scraggly tree, you can't see much. The area behind the cabins is obscured by foliage. However, you're quite close to the rear wall of Cabin Four, and have a close view of the cabin's bathroom window, which is open.
action: You look in the window
response: The bathroom looks ordinary enough. Beyond the open bathroom door, a man is sitting on the bed, hunched over a laptop computer.
action: You examine man
response: The man is intent on what he's doing with the computer.
action: You examine computer
response: The computer is too far away for you to make out any details.
action: You ask the man about the computer
response: The man in the cabin is too far away.
action: Go west
response: This may once have been a garden, but now it's just a final resting place for junk - lots and lots of junk - and nothing grows here but weeds. The falling-down shack stands (if that's the right word) north of here, its single square window looking out on the junk. The area where the van is parked is to the northeast, and the area behind the cabins is east. Off to the southeast stands the shed at the edge of the swamp.

The way westward is blocked by an improbably dense thicket of bramble-bushes.

An old shovel is leaning against the wall of the shack.

An old burlap sack is lying on the ground.
action: You take the shovel and the sack
response: old shovel: Taken.
burlap sack: Taken.
action: You examine the shovel
response: The shovel's handle is split, and the blade is dented.
action: You examine the junk
response: Some of the junk is identifiable as parts of automobiles or farm equipment. There are also a few rusted, half-disassembled kitchen appliances scattered about, and a stack of rotting lumber.
action: Search lumber
response: There's quite a lot of junk here. You spend a minute looking through it, but without spotting anything that would have any immediate value.
action: You look in the sack
response: The burlap sack seems to be empty.
action: You look at the shack
response: It's a tumble-down shack (though not, as in a corny old song your father used to play for your mother when you were little, "a tumble-down shack by the old railroad track"). The boards are warped and discolored, and the roofline sags. There's one window about three feet square, which is covered by a coarse-mesh screen.
action: Go north
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead east, back to the area behind the cabins; northeast; and southeast.
action: You look in the window
response: Peering through the screen and the grimy glass, you can't see much of the interior of the shack. The afternoon sunlight is too bright.
action: You open the window
response: There's no obvious way to do that. A quick inspection reveals that the screen is held firmly in place by half a dozen heavy screws.
action: You go northeast
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

A man is standing hunched over the van's engine, peering down into the innards.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You kill the man
response: That could easily be dangerous. You don't know him well enough to know what he's capable of.
action: You get in the van
response: The man working on the van shakes his head. "You can play in there if you like, honey, but don't get your hopes up. This here vehicle is incapacitated. Down for the count."

The van has the usual front and rear seats. Through the dust-speckled windows you can see the house, the driveway, the shack, and the cabins. The interior smells faintly of gasoline.
action: Search van
response: Under the seat (along with some chewing gum wrappers and a couple of crusty, dried-out french fries) you find a small red flashlight, which you retrieve.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, an old shovel, a burlap sack, and a flashlight, and you're wearing your clothes.
action: You examine the flashlight
response: The flashlight is small and red. The lens is cracked. There's a switch on the top and a battery compartment on the underside.
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 2:30.
action: You turn on the light
response: You flip the switch, and the flashlight emits a feeble glow.
action: You turn off the light
response: You switch off the flashlight, and the light dies.
action: You get out
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

A man is standing hunched over the van's engine, peering down into the innards.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You ask the man about the man
response: The man lifts his head from the engine to stare at you. At first glance his expression is so baleful that you take an involuntary step backward, your heart pounding. He's very large and very black. His scarred and calloused fist is wrapped around a heavy wrench, and as he steps toward you he raises the wrench.

But then he bares his teeth in an ill-sorted expression that seems to be an attempt at a smile. "Hello, there, little lady. We haven't met. I'm Tyrone."

You stammer a hello, and he goes on. "I'd offer to shake your hand, but mine's a little greasy, you know. I do the heavy liftin' around here, mostly. Heard tell you was comin'. Guess I shouldn'ta said that, but it's too late now."

He frowns at the ground for a moment. "Whatever happens, I just want you to know I ain't got nothin' to do with it. I cain't stop it, neither, so don't bother to ask. I'm talkin' too much."

Tyrone smiles when you show an interest in him, showing off a big mouthful of yellowish, uneven teeth. "I'm nobody special, honey. I work for Mr. Beauregard, is all. Him and me, we got an understandin', you might say. I don't get in his way, he don't get in mine.

"That don't mean I'm pleased by all of what he does, no sir. But there's folks don't care for all of what I do, neither. Let well enough alone, that's what my momma always said. That's how you get through life."
action: You ask Tyrone about the van
response: You ask Tyrone what he's doing with the van. "Oh, somethin' or other's always goin' wrong with it," he says obscurely. "Carburetor, most likely. I'll have it fixed up by tomorrow, time these folks is ready to leave."
action: You ask Tyrone about the boat
response: Tyrone spreads his hands. "You got me."
action: You ask Tyrone about Caroline
response: It's pretty obvious Tyrone doesn't know your aunt, but you figure he might have a guess about why she's been hiding out in the bathroom all afternoon. "'Cause she embarrassed, honey," he says promptly. "Maybe she love you, or maybe she don't. I don't know about that. But she full o' shame on account of she's not doin' right by you."
action: You ask Tyrone about Beauregard
response: Tyrone's mouth sets in a grim line. "Mr. Beauregard, he pays my salary, and me and him leave each other alone. Live and let live, you know? I don't got nothin' bad to say about him. Nothin' good, neither, but nothin' bad."
action: You ask Tyrone about Jimmy
response: Tyrone snorts quietly. "The preacher? Awful full of hisself, I'd say. I wouldn't trust him to shine my shoes, and that's the truth."
action: You ask Tyrone about the flashlight
response: "I really ought to get back and work some more on that van," Tyrone says apologetically. "I love talkin' with you, an' that's the truth, but I don' want Mr. Beauregard gettin' mad at me, now, do I?"
action: You examine the shack
response: The shack is small, old, and in poor repair.
action: Go west
response: As you move toward the door of the shack, Tyrone moves swiftly to intercept you. "That's my home, little lady. Ain't much, but it's all I got. I don't know how they do things where you come from, but 'round here it ain't considered polite to go into a man's home without his say-so."
action: You ask Tyrone about the shack
response: "That little ole shack?" Tyrone shrugs. "It ain't much, but I call it home. Suits me pretty good, if you want to know the truth."
action: You open the door
response: The back door seems to be locked.
action: You look around
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

Tyrone has taken a break from working on the van in order to stand and talk with you.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You go east
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
action: Go west
response: (first opening the door of Cabin Four)
You tap on the door, and a male voice within says firmly, "Go away." Well, that's that - for now, anyway.
action: Go east
response: (first trying to open the door of Cabin One)
The door of Cabin One seems to be locked.
action: Go south
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots, suggesting that at one time the open area might have been used as a croquet court.

You're standing between Cabin Five (to the west) and Cabin Two (to the east). The croquet court continues north and south from here. Further to the north you can see a dusty stretch of lawn beside the house, and some distance to the south are the brackish, unhealthy-looking waters of a swamp.
action: You go east
response: The path meanders eastward along the shore of the swamp. Shortly the shore curves away southward, and you find yourself in a broad meadow.

A few trees, tall and old but gnarled, reach up out of the long grass of this meadow like grasping bony fingers, tattered streamers of moss and vine trailing from their crooked branches. The meadow is bordered on the south by the swamp and on the north by an intimidating barbed-wire fence, and continues for some distance to the east. The path along the edge of the swamp runs westward from here.

Standing in the center of the meadow is a large, rough block of black stone.
action: You examine the stone
response: The stone block is a black cube about four feet on each side. Its surface is rough, and the edges and corners are chipped and cracked, as though it was broken off or carved out from a larger piece of stone.
Or possibly it's just incredibly ancient. Exotic-looking carvings can be discerned on one face, though they're half-hidden from view by tall grass, and the top of the block is thinly stained with a dried, dark residue, a little of which has trickled down one side. Tufts of grass grow tall and thick around the base.
action: Taste residue
response: You fleetingly consider touching the old stains with the tip of your tongue, and reject the idea as disgusting.
action: You examine the carvings
response: As you kneel and brush aside the long grass to get a closer look at the carvings on the stone block, you become aware of an agitated thickening in the sunlit air. Distracted, you turn to watch. The haze of movement flits here and there, becoming moment by moment more substantial. At first you think it must be a cloud of dust or a swarm of insects, but as it veers closer to you you glimpse the distorted, terrified features of a girl. She spins around you, making a thin keening noise, her arms flailing.

You stand and stagger backward, trying to get away from the apparition. You can see the distant trees and fence through her slender body, which is clad in a white dress.
action: You look at the lydia
response: The terrifying apparition whirls back and forth across the meadow so rapidly that it's hard to make out details, but it appears to be a girl about your age. She swoops and tumbles toward you and away, her mouth open in a silent scream. Or maybe not quite silent: Thinly, as if from a great distance, you can hear the wordless shriek. It sets your teeth on edge. More than anything else, this ghostly girl resembles a very large, translucent hummingbird having a fit of hysterics - but there's little of the hummingbird about her. Surely she's a lost soul trapped in this desolate spot and trying to escape from some hellish tormentor that you can't see.
action: You ask her about herself
response: Instead of answering, the apparition whirls in a tight spiral in the sunlight.
action: You touch her
response: Your hands would pass right through her.
action: You get on the stone
response: As you approach the block, suddenly the ghost is whirling around you, shrieking. Terrified, you stagger backward.
action: You search the grass
response: You glance at the grass and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
action: You examine the carvings
response: You kneel and push aside the grass to try to get a clear view of the carvings on the block, but suddenly the ghost is whirling around you, shrieking. Terrified, you lurch to your feet and stagger backward.
action: You examine the fence
response: The fence bristles with sharp-looking barbs.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: A few trees, tall and old but gnarled, reach up out of the long grass of this meadow like grasping bony fingers, tattered streamers of moss and vine trailing from their crooked branches. The meadow is bordered on the south by the swamp and on the north by an intimidating barbed-wire fence, and continues for some distance to the east. The path along the edge of the swamp runs westward from here.

Standing in the center of the meadow is a large, rough block of black stone.

A restless ghost flits here and there across the meadow.
action: Go east
response: The meadowland tapers off here, the barbed-wire fence from the north angling down to meet the swamp in the south. Other than heading back to the west, there's not much to do in this isolated spot except watch some rabbits, who are busy in the tall grass doing whatever it is rabbits do.
action: You examine the rabbits
response: They look pretty much like the rabbits you've seen in shows on the Nature Channel - brown, with long ears and short tails. They look a lot less cuddly than the rabbits in picture-books, though - rather mangy and malnourished, in fact. They pause occasionally to eye you with caution, and then go back to hopping around.
action: Pet rabbits
response: That would be impolite.
action: You go west
response: You follow the path westward, back to Eternal Springs.

The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.
action: Go north
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Six (to the west) and Cabin Three (to the east). The croquet court continues north from here. To the south, a little slope ends at the watery edge of a swamp, and a path to the southwest leads toward a good-sized shed that stands at the edge of the water.
action: Go north
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots, suggesting that at one time the open area might have been used as a croquet court.

You're standing between Cabin Five (to the west) and Cabin Two (to the east). The croquet court continues north and south from here. Further to the north you can see a dusty stretch of lawn beside the house, and some distance to the south are the brackish, unhealthy-looking waters of a swamp.
action: You go to the north
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 2:45.
action: Go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Lounging on the chaise longue is a young woman wearing a wide floppy straw hat and big round sunglasses. When she catches sight of you, she lowers the magazine she's reading, favors you with a big smile that shows a bunch of exquisitely orthodontized teeth, and says in a cheery voice, "Well, hello there!"

You acknowledge the greeting hesitantly. "You must be Diane," she goes on. "I'm Honey. Honey Hartwell, you know? The singer? Maybe you heard my CD?" Honey's voice drips Southern charm. "Now whatever may happen-" She lowers her voice conspiratorially and leans toward you. "-I want you to try to remember how grateful I am."

Honey stretches languidly.
action: You ask Honey about the sacrifice
response: Honey nods soberly. "We all have to make sacrifices, don't we? You would be amazed at some of the things I've had to do to further my singin' career. Well, maybe you wouldn't. Nothin' I'd want to talk about, let me tell you."
action: You ask Honey about the death
response: Honey leafs through the magazine. Either she didn't hear you, or she's pretending she didn't.

Honey tugs at a strap on her top.
action: You ask Honey about the ritual
response: Honey nods soberly. "We all have to make sacrifices, don't we? You would be amazed at some of the things I've had to do to further my singin' career. Well, maybe you wouldn't. Nothin' I'd want to talk about, let me tell you."

Honey curls a strand of hair around her little finger.
action: You ask her about Honey
response: "Well, how nice of you to ask!" Honey's self-satisfied tone indicates that this polite response is a mere formality: She knew you'd be avid to know all about her. "I'm a vocalist. Someday real soon I'm goin' to be a big, big star."

She throws back her head and warbles a few lines about love and pickup trucks in a nasal, tremulous, off-pitch soprano. You've never heard the song before, and nothing in her delivery makes you want to hear it ever again. You murmur a few polite words of faint praise. She preens, seeming not to notice your lack of enthusiasm.

Honey yawns and stretches. "You know what?" she says. "I left my sunblock in the cabin. Honestly, I think I'd forget my boobs if they weren't a hundred percent real. I think I put the sunblock in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Would you be a doll and get it for me? Here, let me give you the key." She rolls sideways and leans low over her straw bag. After some mumbling and rooting in the depths of the bag, she fishes up a little key and hands it to you.

"Run along now. And don't dawdle. I'm gettin' crispy. Oh, almost forgot. I'm in Cabin One."
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, an old shovel, a burlap sack, a flashlight, and a tarnished key, and you're wearing your clothes.

Honey pulls her sunglasses down to the end of her nose with one finger in order to look meaningfully at you. "Didn't I ask you to bring me somethin', sugar?"
action: You ask Honey about the picnic
response: You mention to Honey that there's supposed to be some kind of special picnic tonight at sunset. Does she know anything about that?

Honey purses her lips for a minute, as if she's trying to think. "I heard there was gonna be some deviled eggs," she says at last. "Maybe a barbecue or somethin'. You really ought to ask Beauregard, he knows more about it than I do."

Honey licks her thumb and turns a page in the magazine.
action: You ask her about the lydia
response: After taking a deep breath, you tell Honey about the ghost you saw hovering around the stone block in the meadow. At first it seems she hasn't been paying attention, but then you see she's thinking. "That's good, isn't it?" She seems to be talking more to herself than to you. "That means it isn't really ... I mean, when you ... I mean, when any of us ... oh, forget it. I'm not too good at explaining things."
action: You ask her about Tyrone
response: You mention that Tyrone has been working on the van all afternoon. Shouldn't he be finishing up before long? "That old clunker?" Honey replies. "You ask me, it's a wonder it runs at all. I wouldn't be surprised if he's workin' on it 'til midnight. Now, my most recent boyfriend, he had a red convertible Porsche. But he had some bad habits too. I had to dump him."
action: You ask her about Caroline
response: Honey smiles broadly. "Your aunt's a famous author, isn't that right? I think that's just wonderful! I'm famous too, I don't know if I mentioned that. Before long I'm going to be a lot more famous. Can you imagine that? I been practicin' my autograph."

Honey wiggles her toes.
action: You ask her about Jimmy
response: Honey nods. "That preacher fella? I saw him when he checked in. He looks very distinguished, don't you think?"

Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
action: You ask her about Beauregard
response: "That creepy old man?" Honey shudders. "He's been eyein' me all afternoon from up on the porch there. Don't think I haven't noticed. If it wasn't for ... oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand. Sometimes a girl has to put her career first, that's all."

Honey hums a little off-key tune to herself.
action: You examine Honey
response: Honey is in her early twenties, and quite glamorous in a trashy sort of Nashville way. She's wearing great big dark glasses, too much lip gloss, a wide-brimmed pink straw hat, and matching skin-tight shorts. She's lounging on the chaise longue in the sun, a large floppy straw purse yawning open beside her on the lawn, leafing idly through a magazine that, as well as you can judge from looking at it upside down, is devoted mostly to large photos of movie stars.
action: You go to the south
response: As you walk away, Honey goes back to reading (if that's the right word) her magazine.

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
action: You unlock the door with the key
response: You unlock the door of Cabin One.
action: You open the door
response: Which door do you mean, the door of Cabin One, or the door of Cabin Four?
action: You go east
response: The interior of this rustic motel room looks pretty much like a mirror image of the interior of Cabin Five. Except - not really. Honey Hartwell seems to have arrived like a hurricane. Her possessions are strewn in profusion on every available surface, including the floor. Most of the stuff is clothing, every bit of it gaudy and in terrible taste. In amongst the garb you can also see half a dozen photo magazines devoted to celebrity worship, and the top of the dresser (which stands against the east wall, near the door of the bathroom) is overflowing with cosmetics.

Aside from that, the cabin is unremarkable: the door to the croquet court on the west, a walk-in closet to the south, brown bedspreads on the twin beds, tacky wood-grain wallpaper that's starting to peel, green curtains over the window, and a carpet into which years of grime have been ground. A murky painting of a tired-looking Confederate soldier only contributes to the air of dejection and decay.
action: You open the top drawer
response: Opening the top drawer reveals a sequined jacket.
action: You examine the jacket
response: Neatly folded in the top drawer is what appears to be a wide-lapelled jacket whose fabric is entirely covered with sparkling sequins.
action: You look at the confederate
response: The soldier is leaning on his rifle. He looks as if he lost the battle, but is too tired to care.
action: Search jacket
response: Sewn inside the collar of the jacket is a label.
action: You read the label
response: In a tiny, flowery script that looks hand-stitched (in glossy pink thread, naturally), the label says, "Another fine item of personal adornment from the Garmenteria d'Frobozz. Post-release bugs found and reported by Daphne Brinkerhoff, David Silberman, and Arnel Legaspi."
action: You wear the jacket
response: (first putting the old shovel in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the sequined jacket)
You'd look far too conspicuous sashaying around in the sequined jacket. Anyway, it's not your style.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains an old shovel), a flashlight, the key to Cabin One, and a sequined jacket, and you're wearing your clothes.
action: You look at the possessions
response: Honey's clothes are scattered everywhere. Low-cut tops, Spandex tights, frilly underwear - and is that a tiara lying on the bed? It's sad, really.
action: You take the tiara
response: You glance at Honey's clothes and instantly dismiss them as unimportant.
action: Go east
response: (first opening the bathroom door)

The tiny, cramped bathroom features a narrow shower stall, a minuscule, rust-stained sink above which is a cracked, flyspecked mirror, and a commode. The towels stacked on the rack are thin, frayed at the edges, and probably none too clean. A tiny window provides a very little air.

The door leads westward.
action: You open the mirror
response: Opening the medicine cabinet reveals a tube of suntan lotion and a pill bottle.
action: You look at the pill bottle
response: The pill bottle is a small brown cylinder made of plastic. The label says, "Caution: Sleeping pills. May cause drowsiness." It's closed by a screw-top - probably child-proof, but easily removed.
action: You take all from the mirror
response: tube of suntan lotion: Taken.
pill bottle: Taken.
action: Go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

When Honey sees that you're carrying her sequined jacket, her eyebrows shoot straight up. "You like my things, sugar? I get a lot of compliments on my fashion sense - but you know, it's not nice to borrow someone's things without her permission. Give it here."

With a reluctance amounting almost to dread, you hand over the jacket. Honey stuffs it down into her big straw bag quite unceremoniously, settles back on the chaise, and says more or less to herself, "Maybe it was a mistake to let you have the key to my cabin. No tellin' what other mischief you might have got up to. Well, I guess it doesn't matter. Lord knows you're entitled to have a little fun before...." She falls silent.

"Before what?" you demand indignantly.

Honey goes a little pale. "Oh, nothin'. I didn't mean anything by it, sugar. I'm a little on edge, is all. Why don't you run along and play or somethin'."
action: You put the jacket in the sack
response: Done.
action: Go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey curls a strand of hair around her little finger.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains an old shovel and a sequined jacket), a flashlight, the key to Cabin One, a tube of suntan lotion, and a pill bottle. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You give the lotion to Honey
response: Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

"Oh, you brought it! Thanks a bunch." Honey takes the tube of suntan cream from you, flips open the top, and squirts a glob into her palm. "I'm just goin' to relax here for a while longer before the picnic." She puts a light but lingering emphasis on the last word. "Why don't you run along and play or somethin'? But don't go too far!"

Honey stretches languidly.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains an old shovel and a sequined jacket), a flashlight, the key to Cabin One, and a pill bottle. You're wearing your clothes.

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: You examine bottle
response: The pill bottle is a small brown cylinder made of plastic. The label says, "Caution: Sleeping pills. May cause drowsiness." When shaken, the bottle makes a rattling noise, as if there's a pill inside. It's closed by a screw-top - probably child-proof, but easily removed.

Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
action: You examine Honey
response: Honey is in her early twenties, and quite glamorous in a trashy sort of Nashville way. She's wearing great big dark glasses, too much lip gloss, a wide-brimmed pink straw hat, and matching skin-tight shorts. She's lounging on the chaise longue in the sun, a large floppy straw purse yawning open beside her on the lawn, leafing idly through a magazine that, as well as you can judge from looking at it upside down, is devoted mostly to large photos of movie stars.
action: Look around
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey yawns ostentatiously and goes back to reading her magazine.
action: EXITS
response: Obvious exits lead north; south, back to the north end of the croquet court; west; northwest; and southwest.

Honey curls a strand of hair around her little finger.

(You can control the exit listings with the EXITS command. EXITS STATUS shows the exit list in the status line, EXITS LOOK shows a full exit list in each room description, EXITS ON shows both, and EXITS OFF turns off both kinds of exit lists.)
action: You go to the south
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
action: Go east
response: As much loathing as you feel for the white dress, you're not quite willing to risk Aunt Caroline's wrath by leaving the cabin with it. Best leave it here.
action: You wear the dress
response: You consider stripping off your slacks and top and trying on the white dress, but three things stop you. First, you're mad at Aunt Caroline for hauling you all the way down here, so you really don't want to give her the pleasure of trying on the dress she insisted on bringing for you. Second, you want to spend the afternoon looking around this dumpy motel to see if there's anything fun to do, and the dress would surely get dirty. Third, it would look really tacky with your sneakers.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains an old shovel and a sequined jacket), a flashlight, the key to Cabin One, a pill bottle, and a white dress. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You put the dress in the sack
response: Better not. It would get wrinkled, and then Aunt Caroline would be mad.
action: You drop the dress
response: Better not leave it here. Aunt Caroline will be unhappy if it gets mussed.
action: Go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey hums a little off-key tune to herself.
action: You go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard points at where Honey is sunbathing on the lawn. "Quite a little heifer, ain't she? Course, you wouldn't know."
action: You look at the couch
response: The old couch was upholstered in nubbly beige cloth a very long time ago. Woolly white stuffing is coming out through various rips and holes, and the cloth itself is badly stained, as if animals are in the habit of sleeping on it.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch.

Beauregard beams at you in a slimy, sweaty way.
action: Kiss beauregard
response: The danger is, he might like it.
action: You examine Phelps
response: Your first impression of Beauregard Phelps, when he arrived half an hour late at the airport to meet Aunt Caroline and you and bring you out here in the van, was that he was not just repulsive and creepy but truly evil. Nothing you've seen of him in the past couple of hours has changed that opinion. He's old and fat, with thick lips, a coarse complexion, and sparse hair as yellow as a dribble of tobacco juice, but it isn't just the way he looks. It's the way he smiles at you with those piggy little eyes - as though he's planning to eat you for supper, and looking forward to it.

There are sweat rings under his armpits, and his baggy pants are held up by suspenders. Ever since the van pulled into the motel, shortly after a greasy lunch at a filthy little diner on the state highway, Phelps has been sitting on the mangy couch on the porch, fanning himself, working a toothpick around in his mouth, and gazing out across the lawn like a king surveying his realm and finding it good.

Beauregard belches, and doesn't apologize.
action: You go west
response: As you move past Beauregard Phelps toward the screen door, he levers himself up off the ratty old couch with surprising agility and grips your arm. "Why don't you sit down and visit with me for a spell, missy? It does my old heart good just to look at you." Much against your will, you find yourself pulled down beside him on the couch. For a couple of minutes he plies you with questions about New York, which you answer in mumbled monosyllables.

When his grip slackens, you seize the opportunity to leap up. You blurt something about needing to go see if your aunt needs anything and scamper down the steps to the lawn. You've escaped his clutches - for now, anyway.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey curls a strand of hair around her little finger.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains an old shovel and a sequined jacket), a flashlight, the key to Cabin One, and a pill bottle. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You look at the pill bottle
response: The pill bottle is a small brown cylinder made of plastic. The label says, "Caution: Sleeping pills. May cause drowsiness." When shaken, the bottle makes a rattling noise, as if there's a pill inside. It's closed by a screw-top - probably child-proof, but easily removed.

Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
action: Look around
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey hums a little off-key tune to herself.
action: Go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
action: You go east
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey tugs at a strap on her top.
action: You go to the southwest
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

Tyrone is standing hunched over the van's engine, peering down into the innards.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You ask Tyrone about the boathouse
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

Tyrone shrugs. "None o' my concern, and that's the truth."
action: You ask Tyrone about whether or not he will help us escape the death
response: Tyrone grins and shakes his head. "You're just full o' questions, ain't you?"
action: You ask Tyrone about the key
response: Tyrone's eyes crinkle up in a hint of a smile. "They's a nice little motor boat in that shed. Mr. Beauregard, it's his pride and joy. That's why he keeps it locked up pretty tight. Always got the key right there in his baggy old pants pocket, an' he mostly don't loan the boat to nobody for no reason."
action: Go northeast
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey wiggles her toes.
action: You go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

"Wish I had me a seegar," Beauregard says wistfully. "Summer afternoons just ain't the same since I gave up them seegars."
action: You go west
response: Your second attempt to slip into the house is no more successful than the first. Beauregard Phelps leaps up and seizes your wrist as you step toward the screen door; he certainly moves fast for a fat old man. "Come on, now, sugar pie," he says, his voice oozing fake affection. "You got away from me before before I could tell you how nice you look with that ponytail and all. Sit down here and tell me all about where you go to school."

This time you manage to break away before he can force you to sit down on the couch. Again you dash down the steps to the lawn, shuddering. It occurs to you that you've never known before what the phrase "makes my flesh crawl" meant. Now you know.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.
action: Go northwest
response: You're standing in the weed-infested remains of a small flower-bed.
The porch railing is directly above you, almost close enough to reach, and the lawn is back to the east. Only a few feet away, on the porch, Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch gazing out across the lawn, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you're skulking around down here.
action: You hit the nest with the shovel
response: The wasp nest is too far away.
action: You look at Phelps
response: He's sitting on the couch on the porch, chewing a toothpick as he gazes out across the lawn. He doesn't seem to have noticed you skulking around down here.
action: You look under porch
response: The porch is too far away.
action: You look at the weeds
response: The weeds are green and spiky. Some of them have little flowers, but there's nothing here that even vaguely resembles the flowers you'd find in a florist's shop back home.
action: You look at the railing
response: The railing looks pretty flimsy.
action: You climb the railing
response: The railing looks quite flimsy. It would probably pull loose.
action: Dig
response: What do you want to dig in?
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains an old shovel and a sequined jacket), a flashlight, the key to Cabin One, and a pill bottle. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You take the shovel
response: (first putting the pill bottle in the burlap sack to make room)
Taken.
action: You stand
response: You're already standing.
action: Go southeast
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.
action: Go north
response: A narrow, uneven ribbon of blacktop runs east and west at this spot, and a walk leads off through some tall bushes to the south. Beyond the bushes can be glimpsed the roof of the main house. On the north side of the road is a ditch choked with bramble bushes.
action: You examine the ditch
response: The ditch is choked with bramble bushes. It runs along the north side of the road.
action: You go to the east
response: To the east, the road surface sinks beneath the brackish, unhealthy-looking waters of a bayou. There's an impenetrable thicket of bramble bushes to the north and an impenetrable hedge to the south. The only way you can go is to turn back to the west.
action: You examine the bayou
response: The water of the swamp is greenish and unhealthy-looking. It smells putrid, and disgusting things are floating in it.
action: You go to the west
response: A narrow, bumpy ribbon of blacktop runs east and west at this spot. To the south, a gravel driveway leads off through some tall bushes. Standing - or rather, leaning - next to the driveway is a sign that says, "Eternal Springs." The north side of the road is impassable due to a nasty-looking thicket of berry bushes.
action: You look at the berry
response: The bushes bristle with brambles. It's - well, it's a briar patch, basically.
action: You examine the sign
response: The sign is sagging sideways at a drunken angle, and looks as if it's about to fall over sideways. In florid pink letters the sign proclaims that the name of the establishment is "Eternal Springs." An earlier layer seems to have been painted over, but thanks to the irregularities in the surface (which are many) and the flaking away of the top layer (which is considerable), you're able to trace out the former name of the motel, which seems to have been "Bye Bayou."
action: You go to the west
response: The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south.

A black metal barrel is standing on the shoulder of the road.
action: You look at the barrel
response: The barrel is about three feet tall, and black, and smells strongly of fresh road tar. It's covered by a tight-fitting metal lid.
action: Open barrel
response: You try to pry up the lid with your bare fingers, but it's stuck. Possibly a tool of some sort would do the job.
action: Go west
response: The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.

There's a dead animal lying at the edge of the blacktop. It looks like what's left of a possum.
action: You look at the possum
response: The dead possum looks as if it was run over. Maybe a couple of days ago. Big black flies are circling around it. It's one of the most disgusting things you've ever seen in your life.
action: You look at the flies
response: Several big black flies are circling around the possum carcass. A few of them have landed. Doubtless they're enjoying the feast.
action: You go west
response: The east/west road passes close by the front gate of a trashy-looking farm. Two large, smirking farm boys are lounging by the gate, chewing lengths of grass and looking at you in a keen and unhealthy way.
action: You examine the boys
response: The boys are leering at you. They're wearing ripped jeans and filthy sneakers. The larger one looks about seventeen, the other maybe fifteen, and they look as if they're probably brothers. The larger boy is more muscular, and his lip curls with a knowing sneer. The smaller boy is dirtier (though not by much) and keeps looking around in a sneaky way, as if he's getting ready to grab you when no one is watching. They're not your type at all. In fact, you're a little scared of them.

"You wanna see what we got out back o' the barn?" the smaller boy says. "Bet you never seen nothin' like it."
action: You ask the boys about the eternal Springs
response: "Uhh, hello," you venture hesitantly.

"Hello, yourself," says the larger boy, gazing directly at you. Then he turns to the other boy. "She's a cute one, ain't she?"

"What a dump that is," says the larger boy. "You stayin' there? I almost feel sorry for you."

"Go ahead," the larger boy says to the smaller one. "Pull her pony tail. I double-dog-dare you!"
action: You ask the boys about the possum
response: "I'll tell ya all about it if you give me a kiss," the smaller, dirtier boy says.

"C'mon, gimme a kiss," the smaller boy says. He puckers up, squinches his eyes shut, and thrusts his face forward. You want to laugh, but that might provoke them.
action: You go to the east
response: "Gotta go," you say with a cheerful wave.

"C'n we watch?" the smaller boy says brightly. The larger one explodes in a roar of laughter. As you walk away, you hear the boys snickering about something.

The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.

There's a dead animal lying at the edge of the blacktop. It looks like what's left of a possum.
action: You go to the south
response: You slip into the gap in the hedge, and find yourself angled in a twisty maze of thorny bramble-bushes. For a couple of minutes you stumble around, trying to avoid getting stuck by the razor-sharp thorns. Eventually you find your way back to the road, shaken by the ordeal but not too badly scratched up.
action: You look at the gap
response: The gap is narrow, and the bushes within seem to be covered with nasty-looking thorns.
action: You wear the jacket
response: (first putting the old shovel in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the sequined jacket from the burlap sack)
You'd look far too conspicuous sashaying around in the sequined jacket. Anyway, it's not your style.
action: You wear the jacket
response: You'd look far too conspicuous sashaying around in the sequined jacket. Anyway, it's not your style.
action: Go south
response: The gravel driveway runs behind the big house, which looms over you to the east. At the north end the driveway passes through a high hedge, and at the south it opens out into an area in front of a shack, where a dusty van is parked. A pair of low doors angles out from the foundation of the house at this spot.

A large yellow dog is chained up in front of the cellar doors, eyeing you in an unfriendly manner.
action: You look at dog
response: The dog is large, muscular, and alert-looking. He's sort of yellow, and has long floppy ears and a droopy muzzle. His collar is attached by a short leash to a ring mounted on the wall beside the cellar doors.
action: You examine the collar
response: The dog's collar is worn leather, but thick. The dog's leash is attached to the collar.
action: You take the possum
response: You reach out gingerly toward the rotting corpse, but try as you might, you can't quite bring yourself to touch it. Maybe if there weren't quite so many flies....
action: You take the possum with the shovel
response: (first taking the old shovel from the burlap sack)
You pick up the dead possum with the old shovel.
action: You open the bottle
response: (first putting the flashlight in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the pill bottle from the burlap sack)
Opening the pill bottle reveals a little white pill.
action: You give the possum to the dog
response: You toss the dead possum to the dog. The dog sniffs at the dead possum curiously, decides it's interesting, and hunkers down to chew on it. But that's not enough fun: Next he grips it in his teeth and shakes it vigorously, as if punishing it. After playing with the possum for a minute or so, he gazes up at you with something vaguely resembling affection. It seems you've made a new friend.
action: You put the pill in the bottle
response: Done.

The dog pants a little, his long red tongue lolling out.
action: Pet dog
response: You approach the dog timidly and extend your hand. He allows his head to be patted.

The dog paws at the dirt.
action: Dig
response: What do you want to dig in?
action: Go east
response: (first trying to open the cellar doors)
The dog gets between you and the door, panting in a friendly way but also blocking the path. It's no use - he's been well trained to keep anyone from sneaking into the cellar.

The dog strains at the leash.
action: You untie the leash
response: You unclip the leash, leaving the dog free to roam. He seems disinclined to do so, however. He just sits there in front of the cellar doors, his tongue lolling out, staring at you.

The dog rolls over in the gravel.
action: You look at the possum
response: The dead possum looks as if it was run over. And the dog's tender loving care has pretty much reduced it to tatters. Big black flies are circling around it. It's one of the most disgusting things you've ever seen in your life.

The dog sits on his haunches and scratches at a flea.
action: You give the pill to the dog
response: The dog ignores you in favor of scratching at a flea.

The dog rolls over in the gravel.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket and a flashlight), the key to Cabin One, a wooden bucket, an old shovel, a pill bottle, and a little white pill. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You take the possum
response: You reach out gingerly toward the rotting corpse, but try as you might, you can't quite bring yourself to touch it. Maybe if there weren't quite so many flies....

The dog strains at the leash.
action: You take possum with the shovel
response: The dead possum has served its last, best purpose, and pretty much been torn up by the dog in the process. Trying to do anything else with it would be gruesome, gross, and pointless.
action: You untie the leash
response: You unclip the leash, leaving the dog free to roam. He seems disinclined to do so, however. He just sits there in front of the cellar doors, his tongue lolling out, staring at you.

The dog rolls over in the gravel.
action: You take the leash
response: You consider walking around with the dog on a leash, but that would only advertise the fact that he's no longer doing his job guarding the cellar. That probably isn't a good thing to have anybody find out.

The dog paws at the dirt.
action: You tie the leash
response: You cannot fasten the dog's leash.

The dog sits on his haunches and scratches at a flea.
action: You tie the leash to the cellar
response: You cannot attach that to anything.

The dog pants a little, his long red tongue lolling out.
action: Enter
response: What do you want to enter?
action: House
response: (first trying to open the cellar doors)
The dog gets between you and the door, panting in a friendly way but also blocking the path. It's no use - he's been well trained to keep anyone from sneaking into the cellar.

The dog rolls over in the gravel.
action: Go south
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

Tyrone is standing hunched over the van's engine, peering down into the innards.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You ask Tyrone about the dog
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

Tyrone looks disgusted. "Ole Bailey's a nuisance, is what he is. That's the dog's name, Bailey. Let him run loose, he'd chase rabbits all day long. Them rabbits always get him all het up. He's too slow an' stupid to catch nothin', though. Not unless it's already dead." Tyrone chuckles gently at his own joke.
action: You ask Tyrone about the rabbits
response: "Rabbits? Ole Bailey, he like chasin' rabbits. Never catch nothin', but he's always game to try. You want to make him crazy, tell him about the rabbits while he's chained up. He knows the word right enough, he'll go crazy whinin' and jumpin'."
action: Go north
response: (first trying to open the back door)
The back door seems to be locked.
action: You go to the northwest
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

The gravel driveway runs behind the big house, which looms over you to the east. At the north end the driveway passes through a high hedge, and at the south it opens out into an area in front of a shack, where a dusty van is parked. A pair of low doors angles out from the foundation of the house at this spot.

You see a dead possum here.

A large yellow dog is sitting in front of the cellar doors, blinking amiably at you.
action: You ask dog about the rabbits
response: The dog perks up his ears, but seems to have no idea what you're saying.

The dog sits on his haunches and scratches at a flea.
action: You tell the dog about the rabbits
response: You lean forward conspiratorially. "Doggie, nice doggie - I saw some nice rabbits down in the meadow. Rabbits! Rabbits!" The dog's eyes light up. He dashes away, his duty forgotten, leaving the cellar doors unguarded.
action: Go east
response: (first opening the cellar doors)
The leaves of the door fall back to left and right with a bang.

The cellar is low-ceilinged and grimy, with an irregular concrete floor and cobwebs that droop from the exposed rafters. The vague light comes from a couple of tiny windows and the door to the driveway. Along an inner wall is a workbench. The door to the driveway is to the west, a doorway opens eastward on absolute darkness, and a staircase against the north wall leads upward.
action: You examine the workbench
response: The workbench is strongly but crudely built. Above it is a rack where tools may once have been neatly hung, but the tools are long gone. A large vise with a crank is mounted on one front corner of the workbench.
action: You examine the vise
response: The vise consists of two square metal plates mounted parallel to one another. The plates are close to an inch thick, and are connected by a threaded shaft. A crank protrudes from the outer surface of the front plate. The vise is closed.
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 3:00.
action: You open vise
response: You turn the crank, and the jaws of the vise separate.
action: You look in the vise
response: The vise seems to be empty.
action: You examine the flashlight
response: The flashlight is small and red. The lens is cracked. There's a switch on the top and a battery compartment on the underside.
action: You turn on the flashlight
response: You flip the switch, and the flashlight emits a feeble glow.
action: You go east
response: This side of the cellar is cluttered with large, dusty, cobwebbed objects, which are draped with soiled drop cloths. Most likely it's old furniture, but in the fitful light the clutter is deeply shadowed and rather ominous-looking. A large shipping trunk squats prominently at the front of the jumble of clutter. Though it's difficult to make out in the pervading gloom, there appears to be an even darker patch in the south wall, possibly the opening of a tunnel. The door to the better lit side of the cellar is to the west.
action: You go to the east
response: It's pitch black.
action: You go west
response: The cellar is low-ceilinged and grimy, with an irregular concrete floor and cobwebs that droop from the exposed rafters. The vague light comes from a couple of tiny windows and the door to the driveway. Along an inner wall is a workbench. The door to the driveway is to the west, a doorway opens eastward on absolute darkness, and a staircase against the north wall leads upward.
action: You open the trunk
response: The old trunk seems to be locked.
action: Go south
response: This low, earthy-smelling tunnel is no more than four feet high. The dirt floor is uneven, and the ceiling seems to be held up by a few crooked, widely spaced beams. The tunnel runs from north to south.
action: You go south
response: This earth-walled chamber is so low you can't stand up straight. There's a square trapdoor in the ceiling; it's closed. A dark tunnel extends away to the north.
action: You open the trapdoor
response: You're able to push the trapdoor up only a couple of inches before it hits an obstruction.
action: You look through trapdoor
response: (first trying to open the trapdoor)
You're able to push the trapdoor up only a couple of inches before it hits an obstruction.
action: Xf10
response: Failed: the position could not be restored.
action: Go upward
response: This flimsy wooden platform overlooks the cellar. Stairs lead downward to the west, and there's a door to the east.
action: Go east
response: (first trying to open the door)
The door seems to be locked.
action: You look at the door
response: The door is narrow and much scuffed. It's closed.
action: Go downwards
response: The cellar is low-ceilinged and grimy, with an irregular concrete floor and cobwebs that droop from the exposed rafters. The vague light comes from a couple of tiny windows and the door to the driveway. Along an inner wall is a workbench. The door to the driveway is to the west, a doorway opens eastward on absolute darkness, and a staircase against the north wall leads upward.
action: You examine the windows
response: The windows are small and square. A little light spills from them down into the cellar.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket and a flashlight), the key to Cabin One, a wooden bucket, an old shovel, a pill bottle, and a little white pill. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You look at clutter
response: It's mostly just a bunch of junk and discarded furniture. Squatting in the midst of the clutter is a battered old trunk.
action: You go west
response: The gravel driveway runs behind the big house, which looms over you to the east. At the north end the driveway passes through a high hedge, and at the south it opens out into an area in front of a shack, where a dusty van is parked. A pair of low doors angles out from the foundation of the house at this spot.

You see a dead possum here.
action: Go south
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

Tyrone is standing hunched over the van's engine, peering down into the innards.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: Go south
response: The open area behind the western row of cabins is thinly carpeted with scruffy, dusty weeds. A large, rusted incinerator stands in the middle of the open space. A scraggly tree has set down roots quite close to the leftmost of the three cabins whose rear walls form a barrier to the east.

To the south is the shed at the edge of the swamp. You can go north to the area in front of the run-down shack, where the motel's dusty van is parked. The overgrown, junk-strewn garden beside the shack is to the west.
action: You go to the east
response: The path meanders eastward along the shore of the swamp. Shortly the shore curves away southward, and you find yourself in a broad meadow.

A few trees, tall and old but gnarled, reach up out of the long grass of this meadow like grasping bony fingers, tattered streamers of moss and vine trailing from their crooked branches. The meadow is bordered on the south by the swamp and on the north by an intimidating barbed-wire fence, and continues for some distance to the east. The path along the edge of the swamp runs westward from here.

Standing in the center of the meadow is a large, rough block of black stone.

A restless ghost flits here and there across the meadow.
action: You go to the east
response: The meadowland tapers off here, the barbed-wire fence from the north angling down to meet the swamp in the south. Other than heading back to the west, there's not much to do in this isolated spot. Evidently the dog has had some fun chasing the rabbits, because they're gone.
action: You ask Tyrone about the cigar
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

Tyrone scratches his head. "I guess I don't know nothin' 'bout that."
action: You ask Tyrone about cigars
response: Tyrone spreads his hands. "You got me."
action: You ask Tyrone about the wasps
response: "I keep meanin' to clean out that ole wasp nest," Tyrone says. "Send the lady guests off runnin' and screamin', they see a wasp. If we had any guests 'round here, that is. You-all pretty much the biggest batch we seen all year."
action: You ask Tyrone about the torch
response: Tyrone grins and shakes his head. "You're just full o' questions, ain't you?"
action: You ask Tyrone about the barrel
response: "That big ole rusty can down there behind the cabins? We burn stuff in it sometimes, scrap paper an' whatnot. Maybe you never seen one before, comin' from New York the way you do."
action: You ask Tyrone about the tunnel
response: Tyrone shrugs. "None o' my concern, and that's the truth."
action: You ask Tyrone about the lydia
response: When you mention the apparition you saw hovering around the stone block
action: You ask Tyrone about the cellar
response: in the meadow, Tyrone starts poking around very busily in the innards of the van. "People see lots o' things," he says, not looking at you. "People ought to mind their own business."

"But this ghost," you tell him, not quite willing to give up, "it was like she was in pain."

Tyrone sighs heavily. "And what are you tellin' me about it for? You think old Tyrone can do anything about it? That ghost, she been around here for a long, long time. I see her once in a while, on a moonlit night, comin' up between the cabins. I don't know if she's in any pain, but I think she's sad. I think when she sees folks that are alive, it reminds her of what she lost.

"It's too bad you don't have nobody here that's your own age, honey. That ghost, she's about your age. If you can see her, and in broad daylight too, maybe you want to try to make friends with her. You could do worse."

"But how would I do that?" you ask. "How can anybody make friends with a ghost?"

"Same way as you'd make friends with anybody else, I expect. Find somethin' she cares about. I couldn't rightly tell you what that would be, but I guess there's bound to be somethin'. If she didn't care about nothin', why would she be hangin' around, you ask yourself that?"

Tyrone scratches his head. "I guess I don't know nothin' 'bout that."
action: Go south
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

The open area behind the western row of cabins is thinly carpeted with scruffy, dusty weeds. A large, rusted incinerator stands in the middle of the open space. A scraggly tree has set down roots quite close to the leftmost of the three cabins whose rear walls form a barrier to the east.

To the south is the shed at the edge of the swamp. You can go north to the area in front of the run-down shack, where the motel's dusty van is parked. The overgrown, junk-strewn garden beside the shack is to the west.
action: Show jacket to lydia
response: (first putting the old shovel in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the sequined jacket from the burlap sack)
The ghost seems not to have noticed. Its agitated flight about the meadow continues unabated.
action: Kiss lydia
response: She's too insubstantial for that.
action: You show the shovel to the lydia
response: (first putting the pill bottle in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the key to Cabin One in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the little white pill in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the sequined jacket in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the old shovel from the burlap sack)
The ghost exhibits no curiosity about what you're offering.
action: You ask the lydia about the lydia
response: Instead of answering, the ghost undulates sickeningly, as if underwater.
action: You put the jacket in the sack
response: The sequined jacket is already in the burlap sack.
action: You fill the bucket
response: You fill the bucket from the swamp.
action: You examine the bucket
response: It's an old-fashioned, leaky-looking wooden bucket. There's water in it, and the water is dribbling from narrow gaps in the sides.
action: You examine the water
response: Which water do you mean, the water in the bucket, or the swamp?
action: Bucket
response: That was not one of the choices. Which did you mean, the water in the bucket, or the swamp?
action: Water in the bucket
response: The water is sloshing around in the bucket.
action: You pour the water  in the incinerator
response: That would only make a mess of wet ashes.
action: You pour the water on Honey
response: Honey Hartwell is not in need of a bath.

Honey wiggles her toes.
action: Go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
action: You take the shovel
response: You are already carrying the old shovel.
action: You hit nest with the shovel
response: Disturbing the wasps would be a really, really bad idea.

"I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
action: You pour the water on Beauregard
response: Beauregard Phelps is not in need of a bath.

Beauregard beams at you in a slimy, sweaty way.
action: You hit Phelps with the shovel
response: You could probably do some damage with the old shovel, but on the other hand, the consequences could hardly be good.

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You go to the east
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.
action: You ask Honey about Phelps
response: Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

"That creepy old man?" Honey shudders. "He's been eyein' me all afternoon from up on the porch there. Don't think I haven't noticed. If it wasn't for ... oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand. Sometimes a girl has to put her career first, that's all."
action: You ask Honey about the boys
response: When you describe the oafish behavior of the farm boys, Honey throws back her head and laughs. "They sound like fun," she declares.
action: You ask Honey about the dog
response: You tell Honey how the dog ran off when you told him about the rabbits. She laughs. "Guess he's smarter than he looks, then," she says. "But I'll bet he never caught a rabbit, and he ain't no friend of mine. You know that song?"

Honey tugs at a strap on her top.
action: You ask Honey about Tyrone
response: You mention that Tyrone has been working on the van all afternoon. Shouldn't he be finishing up before long? "That old clunker?" Honey replies. "You ask me, it's a wonder it runs at all. I wouldn't be surprised if he's workin' on it 'til midnight. Now, my most recent boyfriend, he had a red convertible Porsche. But he had some bad habits too. I had to dump him."

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: You go southwest
response: As you walk away, Honey goes back to reading (if that's the right word) her magazine.

A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

Tyrone is standing hunched over the van's engine, peering down into the innards.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You look at the window
response: The bathroom window is less than three feet square. It's standing wide open, and there's no screen. Looking through the window, you can see the interior of the bathroom in Cabin Four.
action: Go east
response: Peering cautiously in the window, you can see straight out through the door of the bathroom and into the cabin, proper. A man is sitting on the bed, hunched over and frowning in concentration as he types on the keyboard of a small laptop computer. If you try to climb in the window, he's bound to spot you in an instant.
action: You go east
response: (first opening the door of Cabin Two)
Reverend Gillespie appears at the door of Cabin Two and looks down at you. "Yes? I'm really very busy just now, but if it's important...."
action: You ask Reverend about Phelps
response: "Ah, yes - our gracious host. A diamond in the rough," the reverend declares. "He does seem uncouth, but I'm sure there's hope for his eternal salvation."
action: You ask him about the lydia
response: You tell the Reverend that you personally believe there's some sort of life after death, because you've seen a ghost. You're half hoping he'll ask where, but the topic doesn't seem to interest him. "The ways of the Lord are mysterious," he says vaguely.
action: You ask him about Tyrone
response: "A plain-spoken, hard-workin' man," Gillespie says. "I wouldn't say a word against him. Though he is a little ... unfriendly, don't you think?"
action: You ask him about Honey
response: "The young lady from Nashville, yes. Very attractive. A trifle ... obvious, don't you think? But it's not my place to judge."
action: You ask him about the dog
response: "The dog?" Gillespie looks a little askance. "He seemed quite ill-tempered to me. I'm plannin' to keep my distance. He seemed partial to the hired man, though. If you want to know more about him, I expect you ought to ask - what's his name, now? - Tyrone."
action: You ask him about bye bayou
response: Gillespie smiles a meaningless smile. "My, but it's hot this afternoon."
action: You tell him about boys
response: Gillespie looks bored. "Very interesting, I'm sure, but I don't imagine it concerns me."
action: You ask him about the bible
response: "Ah, the Holy Scripture," the reverend intones. "I read it daily.
It's often a source of great comfort when I am sore afflicted."

Feeling a little feisty, you ask the reverend if he'd be so good as to read a verse to you right now. "Yes, of course," he says instantly ... but then his face contorts with a swift and startling variety of expressions. His eyes dart around as if he's wondering whether anyone is there to overhear. "Well, perhaps not right now," he says, drawing the words out hesitantly. "Perhaps later. Yes."
action: Bye
response: Nothing obvious happens.
action: You go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey stretches languidly.
action: You ask Honey about Reverend
response: Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

Honey nods. "That preacher fella? I saw him when he checked in. He looks very distinguished, don't you think?"
action: You ask Honey about the magazine
response: Honey leafs through the magazine. Either she didn't hear you, or she's pretending she didn't.

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: You go southwest
response: As you walk away, Honey goes back to reading (if that's the right word) her magazine.

A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

Tyrone is standing hunched over the van's engine, peering down into the innards.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You ask Tyrone about the engine
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

"I really ought to get back and work some more on that van," Tyrone says apologetically. "I love talkin' with you, an' that's the truth, but I don' want Mr. Beauregard gettin' mad at me, now, do I?"
action: You ask Tyrone about Reverend
response: Tyrone snorts quietly. "The preacher? Awful full of hisself, I'd say. I wouldn't trust him to shine my shoes, and that's the truth."
action: You ask Tyrone about crowbar
response: Tyrone scratches his head. "I guess I don't know nothin' 'bout that."
action: You ask Tyrone about the boys
response: When you mention the farm boys you ran into down the road, Tyrone snorts with quiet contempt. "They's good for nothin'. Good for nothin', but always up to somethin'. Best you steer clear of 'em, if you know what's good for you."
action: You tell Tyrone about the dog
response: Tyrone looks disgusted. "Ole Bailey's a nuisance, is what he is. That's the dog's name, Bailey. Let him run loose, he'd chase rabbits all day long. Them rabbits always get him all het up. He's too slow an' stupid to catch nothin', though. Not unless it's already dead." Tyrone chuckles gently at his own joke.
action: Go northeast
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: Go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
action: You sit on the couch
response: You're not eager to get that close to Beauregard Phelps.

"I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
action: Kiss Phelps
response: The danger is, he might like it.

Beauregard beams at you in a slimy, sweaty way.
action: You search Phelps
response: (first trying to go over to Beauregard Phelps)
Beauregard Phelps is too far away.
action: You pour the water on the couch
response: The couch is not in need of a bath.

Beauregard smacks his lips. "That young lady from Nashville, now - she's quite somethin', ain't she?"
action: You examine the couch
response: The old couch was upholstered in nubbly beige cloth a very long time ago. Woolly white stuffing is coming out through various rips and holes, and the cloth itself is badly stained, as if animals are in the habit of sleeping on it.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch.

Beauregard belches, and doesn't apologize.
action: You search the couch
response: There's no practical way to search the couch while Beauregard Phelps is sitting on it.

Beauregard points at where Honey is sunbathing on the lawn. "Quite a little heifer, ain't she? Course, you wouldn't know."
action: You look at the pants
response: Phelps's trousers provide plenty of fabric to cover the lower part of his considerable bulk. They're khaki-colored and held up by suspenders. The pockets are sagging open, possibly because of the relaxed way he's half-reclining on the couch.

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You look at the pockets
response: Phelps's trousers provide plenty of fabric to cover the lower part of his considerable bulk. They're khaki-colored and held up by suspenders. The pockets are sagging open, possibly because of the relaxed way he's half-reclining on the couch.

"Wish I had me a seegar," Beauregard says wistfully. "Summer afternoons just ain't the same since I gave up them seegars."
action: Search pockets
response: Sticking your hands in his pants pockets while he's wearing the pants is not something you could ever bring yourself to do.

"I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
action: You ask Phelps about the cigars
response: Having been taught good manners, you can't quite bring yourself to ignore Phelps, so you nod to him and mumble a hello.

He smiles at you and nods heavily. "You enjoyin' our balmy Southern weather, darlin'?"

Beauregard stifles a yawn. "Gettin' time for my afternoon nap, but I'm just too keyed up this afternoon to sleep."
action: You give the pill to Phelps
response: (first taking the little white pill from the burlap sack)
You consider showing Beauregard the sleeping pill, but two thoughts dissuade you. First, you don't want him to know you're stealing things from the other guests' cabins, and second, he might take the pill away from you before you find a use for it.

Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
action: You ask Phelps about the porch
response: "This useta all be prime farm land, once," Beauregard says, waving his arm. "We grew us a fine crop o' leaf. Was you sayin' somethin'?"
action: You ask him about the tobacco
response: Beauregard shows his teeth in a grimace that he probably thinks is a smile. "You're gonna look so cute in that white dress!"

Beauregard belches, and doesn't apologize.
action: You ask him about the seegar
response: "I hope I git up to see New York sometime," Beauregard says irrelevantly.

"Wish I had me a seegar," Beauregard says wistfully. "Summer afternoons just ain't the same since I gave up them seegars."
action: You ask him about the railing
response: Beauregard beams benignly at you. "You are just the cutest little thang. I can't get over it."

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You examine the suspenders
response: Phelps's trousers provide plenty of fabric to cover the lower part of his considerable bulk. They're khaki-colored and held up by suspenders. The pockets are sagging open, possibly because of the relaxed way he's half-reclining on the couch.

Beauregard points at where Honey is sunbathing on the lawn. "Quite a little heifer, ain't she? Course, you wouldn't know."
action: You look in the pockets
response: Sticking your hands in his pants pockets while he's wearing the pants is not something you could ever bring yourself to do.

Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
action: You ask him about the wasps
response: "You worried about them wasps, sweet pea? They won't bother you none."

Beauregard beams at you in a slimy, sweaty way.
action: You pour the water on the wasps
response: The wasp nest is not in need of a bath.

"I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
action: You ask him about the vise
response: Beauregard pulls his gaze back from the lawn. "Was you sayin' somethin', sweet pea?"

Beauregard smacks his lips. "That young lady from Nashville, now - she's quite somethin', ain't she?"
action: You ask him about the boathouse
response: "I hope I git up to see New York sometime," Beauregard says irrelevantly.

Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
action: You ask him about the new york
response: Beauregard shows his teeth in a grimace that he probably thinks is a smile. "You're gonna look so cute in that white dress!"
action: You ask him about the boat
response: Beauregard stifles a yawn. "Gettin' time for my afternoon nap, but I'm just too keyed up this afternoon to sleep."

Beauregard beams at you in a slimy, sweaty way.
action: You ask him about the key
response: "You lose your cabin key?" Phelps says, his voice oozing fake sympathy. "Well, I don't expect your aunt will have locked the door. You can come and go pretty much wherever you want around here, exceptin' only Tyrone's shack and a few places like that. Ole Tyrone, he don't much cotton to havin' strangers pokin' around in his things."

"Wish I had me a seegar," Beauregard says wistfully. "Summer afternoons just ain't the same since I gave up them seegars."
action: Go east
response: Phelps turns away from you, scratches himself, and goes back to gazing out across the lawn.

As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
action: You go to the southwest
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

Tyrone is standing hunched over the van's engine, peering down into the innards.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: Close vise
response: Crushing the little white pill in the vise would only be pointless vandalism.
action: You put the pill in the bottle
response: (first taking the little white pill)
Done.
action: You dig dirt
response: You glance at the dirt and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
action: You dig the floor
response: (with the old shovel)
You have no reason to dig in that.
action: You go east
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the front of the shack; south, to the front of the boat shed; west, to the garden of junk; and up, to the perch in the tree.
action: You pour the water on the altar
response: Which water do you mean, the swamp, or the water in the bucket?
action: You examine the carvings
response: You kneel and push aside the grass to try to get a clear view of the carvings on the block, but suddenly the ghost is whirling around you, shrieking. Terrified, you lurch to your feet and stagger backward.
action: Go south
response: The water is filthy, and there are undoubtedly alligators. You consider swimming, but half a second later you reject the idea with a shudder.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: A few trees, tall and old but gnarled, reach up out of the long grass of this meadow like grasping bony fingers, tattered streamers of moss and vine trailing from their crooked branches. The meadow is bordered on the south by the swamp and on the north by an intimidating barbed-wire fence, and continues for some distance to the east. The path along the edge of the swamp runs westward from here.

Standing in the center of the meadow is a large, rough block of black stone.

A restless ghost flits here and there across the meadow.
action: You go west
response: You follow the path westward, back to Eternal Springs.

The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.
action: You look under the dress
response: (first trying to go over to the white dress)
The white dress is too far away.
action: You go to the bed
response: Which bed do you mean, the bed near the door, or the bed near the bathroom?
action: You examine door bed
response: The bed looks sort of lumpy, and the pillow is flat and undoubtedly hard. A threadbare brown coverlet is spread over the bed. On the bed near the door is a white dress.
action: You look under the pillow
response: Which pillow do you mean, the bed near the door, or the bed near the bathroom?
action: You look under the door pillow
response: The box springs are sagging, and there's a scatter of tiny dry brown pellets that might be mouse droppings. Nothing interesting, though.
action: You look under the carpet
response: You glance at the stuff in the cabin and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
action: Go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: You enter the van
response: The van has the usual front and rear seats. Through the dust-speckled windows you can see the house, the driveway, the shack, and the cabins. The interior smells faintly of gasoline.
action: You examine the van
response: The van may once have been olive green, but it's almost too dusty to tell. The hood of the van is up, and Tyrone has his head bent low over the engine.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket and a flashlight), the key to Cabin One, a wooden bucket (which contains some water), an old shovel, a pill bottle, and a little white pill. You're wearing your clothes.
action: Go outside
response: What do you want to move out of?
action: You go to the southeast
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north; south, to the area behind the cabins; east, to the north end of the croquet court; west; northeast, to the lawn; northwest, to the gravel driveway; southwest, to the garden of junk; and in, back to in the van.
action: You take the hoop
response: With a bit of tugging, you pull a hoop free of the dirt.
action: You examine the hoop
response: The hoop is a thick, bent piece of wire. The ends aren't exactly sharp, but they're tapered to make it easier to drive the hoop into the ground.
action: Go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey licks her thumb and turns a page in the magazine.
action: Go northwest
response: You're standing in the weed-infested remains of a small flower-bed.
The porch railing is directly above you, almost close enough to reach, and the lawn is back to the east. Only a few feet away, on the porch, Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch gazing out across the lawn, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you're skulking around down here.
action: You throw the hoop at the nest
response: The wasp nest is too far away.
action: You go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.
action: You throw the hoop at the nest
response: Disturbing the wasps would be a really, really bad idea.

Beauregard points at where Honey is sunbathing on the lawn. "Quite a little heifer, ain't she? Course, you wouldn't know."
action: Poke Phelps with hoop
response: That would be very rude.

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You go east
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket and a flashlight), the key to Cabin One, a wooden bucket (which contains some water), an old shovel, a pill bottle, a little white pill, and a croquet hoop. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You give the hoop to Tyrone
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

"There's things that got power," he remarks obscurely, "and things that don't. You gonna have to learn which is which."
action: You ask Tyrone about the engine
response: Tyrone scratches his head. "I guess I don't know nothin' 'bout that."
action: You ask Tyrone about the van
response: You ask Tyrone what he's doing with the van. "Oh, somethin' or other's always goin' wrong with it," he says obscurely. "Carburetor, most likely. I'll have it fixed up by tomorrow, time these folks is ready to leave."
action: Close vise
response: Crushing the croquet hoop in the vise would only be pointless vandalism.
action: You take the hoop
response: (first putting the old shovel in the burlap sack to make room)
Taken.
action: Go upward
response: This flimsy wooden platform overlooks the cellar. Stairs lead downward to the west, and there's a door to the east.
action: You unlock the trunk with the hoop
response: You try several times to insert the end of the hoop into the lock, but the hoop is bent in a U shape, which makes it hard to manipulate.
action: Straighten hoop
response: You straighten out the croquet hoop.
action: You unlock trunk with the hoop
response: You insert the end of the straightened croquet hoop into the lock and twist it this way and that. After a few seconds you hear a very gratifying snap.
action: You open the trunk
response: As the battered old trunk creaks open, a sourceless breeze causes the dropcloths around you to flap and sends scraps of paper scurrying. The back of your neck prickles as you see the ghost from the meadow swirling and rippling in the air before you. For a moment she pauses in her restless flight to lean forward and peer down into the trunk. Then she turns to you and reaches out with one hand. But a moment later she's gone. The cellar is as empty and shadowed as before.

Opening the old trunk reveals a gold locket and some faded photographs.
action: You take all from the trunk
response: gold locket: Taken.
faded photographs: Taken.
action: You turn off the flashlight
response: You switch off the flashlight, and the light dies.

It is now pitch black.
action: You examine the locket
response: The gold locket is an old-fashioned oval no bigger than the last joint of your little finger. It's suspended from a delicate gold chain, and has a hinge on one side and a shallow indentation, about the size of a fingernail, on the other.
action: You open locket
response: You open the locket, revealing a tiny snapshot of a woman's face.
action: You examine the photographs
response: The photos are brown and faded. They show small groups of people wearing old-fashioned clothes. You've read a couple of books on fashion, and have no trouble identifying the styles as belonging to the 1930s.

One of the men in a couple of the photos looks a whole lot like Beauregard Phelps - but what's odd is that he looks almost exactly like he does today, which is obviously impossible. As old as he is now, he would have been only a little boy in the 1930s.

Standing next to him, looking rather insecure, is a girl about your age. She's wearing a long white dress. On closer inspection she looks awfully like the ghost hovering around the stone block in the meadow.
action: You take the snapshot
response: You can't have that; it's part of the gold locket.
action: Close locket
response: You close the locket.
action: You show the locket to the ghost
response: When the dead girl sees the locket, she hesitates in her frantic flight, but only for a moment. Then she spins on again through the air above the meadow.
action: Oops ghost
response: (first taking off the gold locket)
When the dead girl sees the locket, she hesitates in her frantic flight, but only for a moment. Then she spins on again through the air above the meadow.
action: You put the locket on the altar
response: As you approach the block, suddenly the ghost is whirling around you, shrieking. Terrified, you stagger backward.
action: You show the photographs to the ghost
response: (first taking the faded photographs from the burlap sack)
The ghost exhibits no curiosity about what you're offering.
action: You show the snapshot to the ghost
response: The ghost seems not to have noticed. Its agitated flight about the meadow continues unabated.
action: You show the locket to the ghost
response: The ghost pauses in its flight, trembles, floats closer to you. Now that its motion has subsided, you can see clearly that it's a dark-haired girl wearing a flowing white dress. She reaches out toward the locket, translucent fingers groping fitfully. "You found it. Oh, you found it! I never thought I'd see it again. That's a portrait of my mother. Wasn't she beautiful? That's what they told me, anyway. I never knew her. I lived with my cousins in Illinois, and...." The girl pauses.

"Oh. Oh, I remember everything now. How they - oh. You must get away from here. They're planning to do the same thing to you, I'm sure of it!"
action: You ask the ghost about herself
response: The ghost strokes her cheek lingeringly, as if wiping away a tear. "My name is Lydia. I was born in 1920. When I - when they - it was 1934 when it happened. My cousin Jake brought me out here. He was a terrible gambler, and I guess he needed money more than anything.
Maybe I ought to forgive him, but I can't. Beauregard was just the same then as he is now, old and fat. I think he does this to people - to girls like us, I mean - so he can live forever."
action: You ask Lydia about the locket
response: "I'm so glad you found it!" she says. "You must keep it for me."
action: You ask Lydia about Jake
response: "You mentioned your cousin Jake," you say.

"Everybody was poor in those days," she replies. "Nobody had any money. But Jake liked to gamble. He'd play dice, or bet on the horse races, and he lost money he didn't have to begin with.

"I don't know what happened to him afterward. I guess the monster must have made him awful rich, but I don't know much about anything that's happened since I died. Is Franklin Roosevelt still president?"
action: You ask Lydia about the monster
response: "This is such an evil place," she says. "That ... thing that did what it did to me, it came up out of the swamp. But I don't think it's a swamp thing. I think it's older than the swamp, and a lot worse."
action: You ask Lydia about the ritual
response: With some reluctance, you ask Lydia how she died. "I know you'd probably rather not talk about it," you tell her. "But it might help me to know."

She's silent for a minute. "They cut my heart out," she says at last. "With a dagger. It still hurts. All the time. And then this - this thing came down and ate my heart. Or that's what it felt like. Does that help?" You tell her no, you guess it doesn't.
action: You ask Lydia about the dagger
response: "I'm sorry," she says. "I don't know much about very much."
action: You ask Lydia about the heart
response: When you ask her about her heart, what happened to it, she grows very still. Her face knots up with anguish. "They cut it out of me," she says, almost choking on the words. "Beauregard did, with his awful knife. And then the demon came down and ate it. It's gone. But ... you know, sometimes I think I can still feel it beating, very faintly, somewhere very far away.

"And I know you'll think this is crazy, but wherever it is, I don't think it's the only heart in that place. I think there are a lot of hearts, from a lot of other girls, maybe hundreds of them just like me. Like us.

"And sometimes I seem to hear this funny soft sound, along with the beating. It's like a dry, sifting noise, but with little clicking noises in it too, like beetles or something. That doesn't make any sense at all, does it?"
action: You ask Lydia about the eternal Springs
response: "I'm really bored here," Lydia says. "I can never get very far from this spot, but sometimes I go peek into the cabins at night, when people are sleeping."
action: You ask Lydia about the altar
response: Lydia reaches out to touch the stone block, almost lovingly. "That was where they did it to me," she whispers. "I guess it only lasted a minute, but it seems like it lasted years. Like it's still going on, almost. The knife, the blood, the - the thing coming down on top of me, its teeth, its eyes like lava...."
action: You look at the carvings
response: You carefully brush layers of dirt from the surface of the block, revealing seven figures. Two, wearing elaborate headdresses, kneel at the left side and the right. Four more, young and female and naked, march in single file up a ramp. By far the largest figure, waiting at the top of the ramp, is a monster of some sort, with glaring eyes, bared teeth, long claws, and a protruding tongue.
action: You ask Lydia about the carvings
response: "I forget things," she says. "I think I might know something about that, only now I can't remember."
action: You ask Lydia about the white dress
response: You tell Lydia that your aunt brought a dress just like hers for you to wear later this afternoon. She shudders. "That's pretty much what I expected. You have to get away! It's not too late."
action: You ask Lydia about Phelps
response: "He told me we were having a picnic," she says. "He didn't tell me the - the awful thing that came would be the only one eating anything, or that what it would be eating would be me."
action: You ask Lydia about Honey
response: You describe the girl singer from Nashville to Lydia. "She sounds like an awful person," the ghost replies. "Really stuck up. But you know, part of me wishes I could be like her. I mean, I'd be nicer, but you know what I mean."
action: You ask Lydia about the Aunt
response: You tell Lydia how your aunt brought you down here from New York for no apparent reason, and brought along this white dress for you to wear to some kind of supposed picnic. Lydia nods vigorously. "That's just like me with my cousin Jake. I guess he needed money more than anything. I think the horrid thing grants people's wishes. I guess it must have made Jake rich. I'll bet your aunt is the same way. I'll bet she wants something so much she's willing to let them - no, not let them, she's willing to help them kill you."
action: You ask Lydia about Reverend
response: You mention that there's a clergyman staying in one of the cabins, and that he seems to be part of whatever is going on around here. "I wish I could say that surprises me," she says. "But it doesn't. There were some nasty ministers back when I was alive, and I don't guess it's changed much."
action: You ask Lydia about Tyrone
response: "I've seen him," she says. "I don't think he's a bad man. I don't know why he stays around here. He reminds me of somebody, but I just can't think who."
action: You ask Lydia about the dog
response: You tell her how you made friends with the dog, and she smiles.
"That's very clever."
action: You ask Lydia about the incinerator
response: She's looking off pensively toward the swamp. She seems not to have heard you.
action: You ask Lydia about the swamp
response: "There's nasty things out there in the swamp," Lydia says. "Alligators and other things. I tried to cross the swamp in a boat, before I died. I was trying to get away. Only I didn't have a map, so I got lost.
And then they came after me and brought me back. You shouldn't go out there unless you have a map, and a compass too."
action: You ask Lydia about the map
response: You ask her if she knows where you might be able to find a map of the swamp. She shrugs. "I don't know anything at all, really. Maybe if you ask some of the people here, someone will be able to help you."
action: You ask Lydia about the compass
response: "I forget things," she says. "I think I might know something about that, only now I can't remember."
action: You ask Lydia about the boat
response: You tell her about the boat shed, and she nods excitedly. "That's where they keep the boats. I'll bet if you could steal a boat, you could get away from here!"
action: You ask Lydia about the boys
response: Lydia giggles. "Those boys? They come down here sometimes. If it's at night, I like to scare them."
action: You ask Lydia about the Cabins
response: "I'm really bored here," Lydia says. "I can never get very far from this spot, but sometimes I go peek into the cabins at night, when people are sleeping."
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 3:15.
action: You go west
response: As you walk away, the ghost calls after you in a breathy voice: "I hope you'll come back and visit me."

You follow the path westward, back to Eternal Springs.

The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.
action: You ask Tyrone about map
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

You ask Tyrone whether he might know where you could find a map of the swamp. "Dunno what you'd need nothin' like that for," he says. Leastways, not unless you got you a boat. Mr. Beauregard, he keeps them boats locked up pretty tight in the shed, don't he?"
action: You ask Tyrone about the compass
response: "I really ought to get back and work some more on that van," Tyrone says apologetically. "I love talkin' with you, an' that's the truth, but I don' want Mr. Beauregard gettin' mad at me, now, do I?"
action: You ask Tyrone about Jake
response: Tyrone shrugs. "None o' my concern, and that's the truth."
action: You ask Tyrone about the alligators
response: Tyrone grins and shakes his head. "You're just full o' questions, ain't you?"
action: You ask Tyrone about the demon
response: Tyrone scratches his head. "I guess I don't know nothin' 'bout that."
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, an old shovel, some faded photographs, and a gold locket), the key to Cabin One, a wooden bucket (which contains some water), a pill bottle, a little white pill, and a croquet hoop. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You look around
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

Tyrone has taken a break from working on the van in order to stand and talk with you.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You go east
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
action: Go west
response: (first opening the door of Cabin Four)
You tap on the door, and a male voice within, sounding a bit annoyed, says, "Go away." Okay, he's still in there. No harm in checking.
action: You show the photographs to Tyrone
response: (first taking the faded photographs from the burlap sack)
"Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

Tyrone takes the snapshots from you and thumbs through them before handing them back. "Them's old, real old," he says. "Mr. Beauregard, he ain't changed much, has he? They's one other that hasn't, neither. I see her sometimes, on a moonlit night."
action: You ask Tyrone about Lydia
response: When you mention the apparition you saw hovering around the stone block in the meadow, Tyrone starts poking around very busily in the innards of the van. "People see lots o' things," he says, not looking at you. "People ought to mind their own business." You start to mention Lydia to Tyrone, but then you hesitate. Tyrone seems to be on your side, but there may be limits. If he finds out you've restored Lydia to life, he might feel compelled to let Beauregard know. And if he doesn't tell but Beauregard finds out anyway, that might be very bad for Tyrone, who you're starting to like just a little. No, better not say anything that might get either of you in trouble.
action: You go east
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
action: You show the photographs to Honey
response: Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

Honey barely glances at the faded photographs. "That's nice, sugar. Now why don't you run off and play or somethin'?"

Honey stretches languidly.
action: You show the locket to Honey
response: (first taking the gold locket from the burlap sack)
Honey barely glances at the gold locket. "That's nice, sugar. Now why don't you run off and play or somethin'?"
action: You put the locket in the sack
response: Done.

Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
action: Go north
response: As you walk away, Honey goes back to reading (if that's the right word) her magazine.

A narrow, uneven ribbon of blacktop runs east and west at this spot, and a walk leads off through some tall bushes to the south. Beyond the bushes can be glimpsed the roof of the main house. On the north side of the road is a ditch choked with bramble bushes.
action: You go to the west
response: A narrow, bumpy ribbon of blacktop runs east and west at this spot. To the south, a gravel driveway leads off through some tall bushes. Standing - or rather, leaning - next to the driveway is a sign that says, "Eternal Springs." The north side of the road is impassable due to a nasty-looking thicket of berry bushes.
action: Go west
response: The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.
action: You go west
response: The east/west road passes close by the front gate of a trashy-looking farm. Two large, smirking farm boys are lounging by the gate, chewing lengths of grass and looking at you in a keen and unhealthy way.
action: You show the photographs to the boys
response: "Hello again," you say, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm back."

"Was she gone?" the smaller boy says. "I din't notice."

The boys look at one another and roll their eyes, as if wondering how you could be so stupid.
action: You continue
response: "We could take those away from you," the smaller boy says, "but why bother? Now, I'm not sayin' you don't got nothin' we might want, but that ain't it."
action: You hit the boys
response: It seems pretty clear that provoking them would get you in big trouble really quickly.

"She's a hot chick, ain't she?" the larger boy says, nudging his brother and tilting his head at you.
action: Go east
response: "See you later," you say as you walk away.

"Aw, don't go," the larger boy says. "Stick around. We was just gonna show you how to have a real good time!" As you walk away, you hear the boys snickering about something.

The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.
action: You go to the south
response: You slip into the gap in the hedge, and find yourself angled in a twisty maze of thorny bramble-bushes. For a couple of minutes you stumble around, trying to avoid getting stuck by the razor-sharp thorns. Eventually you find your way back to the road, shaken by the ordeal but not too badly scratched up.
action: You look at the gap
response: The gap is narrow, and the bushes within seem to be covered with nasty-looking thorns.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, an old shovel, a gold locket, and some faded photographs), the key to Cabin One, a wooden bucket (which contains some water), a pill bottle, a little white pill, and a croquet hoop. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You go south
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead east, down the road to the east; and west, back down the road.
action: You go to the north
response: The thorny bramble bushes prevent your going in that direction.
action: You go south
response: The gravel driveway runs behind the big house, which looms over you to the east. At the north end the driveway passes through a high hedge, and at the south it opens out into an area in front of a shack, where a dusty van is parked. A pair of low doors angles out from the foundation of the house at this spot.

A big black SUV is parked in the driveway.

You see a dead possum here.
action: Examine SUV
response: The SUV is big, black, shiny, and very solid-looking. A chrome logo on the rear says it's a Bronco.
action: You open SUV
response: The doors are locked.
action: You unlock SUV with the hoop
response: You give it a try, but the SUV is locked up tight.
action: You ask Tyrone about the suv
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

You point to the big black SUV. "Did somebody just get here?"

Tyrone nods. "Fella checked into Cabin Six. Rugged-lookin' fella. I think Mr. Beauregard, he didn't want nobody else checkin' in this afternoon. I overheard 'em arguin' a little. I'll tell you, that worries me. You don't want to argue with Mr. Beauregard, truly you don't."
action: Empty bucket
response: Emptying the bucket on the ground would only make a mess.
action: Empty bucket
response: You empty the bucket into the swamp.
action: Go west
response: Cabin Six is a lot like Cabin Five. Twin beds with ugly brown bedspreads haphazardly made up, water-stained plaster and peeling wallpaper, a grimy carpet. A faded painting of a flop-eared hound dog entirely fails to add cheer to the room. Tattered curtains hang across the window, which is to the left of the door.

The dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.

Because your eyes take a moment to adjust from the sunlight outside to the dimness of the room, you're startled to realize there's a man sitting silently on the edge of one of the twin beds. He's staring at you, his eyes a wet blue glimmer in the weathered tan of his face.

"Hello, there," he drawls. "Nice of you to come visit. Or were you plannin' to steal somethin'?"

You start to protest your innocence, but he waves your words aside. "Just funnin' with you, youngster. My name's Hank. Hank Slocum." He sticks out his hand, and you feel compelled to shake it. His hand is as dry and rough as old leather.

You introduce yourself, and Hank says, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Diane. Now what would a nice-lookin' young city girl like you be doin' mopin' around this God-forsaken hellhole on such a fine afternoon? No, don't answer. It would only depress me. I been keepin' my ears open. Some of the things goin' on around here I don't much care for. Good thing I won't be here much longer."
action: You examine Hank
response: Hank is a muscular, tough-looking man of about forty. He has sandy hair, several days' growth of beard, and scarred, calloused hands.
He's sitting on the edge of the bed.
action: You ask Hank about the eternal Springs
response: "Yeah, it's a dump, ain't it?" Hank says. "Best thing about it is, I'll be leavin' before it gets dark. You might want to see if you can't figure out a way to do the same thing, if you know what's good for you."
action: You ask Hank about Hank
response: "Me? Nice of you to ask. I'm nobody special. Came down here on business. I'll be gone before it gets dark. Picked this place out on account of it's right close to the bayou. Some friends o' mine ... well, I don't want to say too much about that. They're comin' in tonight on a plane, you know, one of those little amphibious jobs that can take off and land on water, and I gotta go out in a boat and meet 'em. We're doin' a little business transaction, and don't ask me nothin' more about it, because I won't say another word.

"Gets harder every year," he says, leaning back and gazing at the ceiling. "Gotta find an out-of-the-way spot like this to do a transaction. First time I came here to meet a plane was last year. Another friend o' mine brought me. Good thing, too. I woulda got lost in the swamp for sure. There's about a thousand twisty little waterways out there. You get out there in a boat, if you don't know the swamp like the back of your hand you'll be lost inside ten minutes, and they'll never find your bones, 'cuz the gators, they chew up the bones.

"But am I worried? No, I ain't worried. Show you why. Got me a map." He pats the leather case lying on the bed beside him. "You want to see it?"

You express polite curiosity. He opens the case, careful not to let you see anything else that might be inside, and draws out an often-folded piece of paper, which he spreads open and smooths out, not very effectually, on his thigh. "We're right here," he says, pointing with a grimy finger at a little square near one edge of the map. "Now, to meet the plane I got to go-"

Hank glances toward the window and pauses. "Uh-oh," he says. "Company comin'. Look, sweetheart, I don't want nobody to find me with an underage girl in my motel room. Nothin' personal, you understand, I wouldn't hurt you for all the world, but I got what they call prior felony convictions. If you'd be so kind as to just slip into the closet there for a minute, until I chase these bozos off...."

You find yourself crammed into the cabin's tiny, musty-smelling closet. The door is open only a crack, not enough for you to see what's going on outside, only enough to let in a trickle of light that reassures you you haven't been entombed.

Men's voices come to you, somewhat muffled. "We have a problem," says one voice. "The problem is you."

Hank says, "Well, that's not a problem, then, because I was just gettin' ready to leave." He sounds a little edgy.

"Not good enough," says another voice. "We saw the girl come in here a while ago. Good thing she's gone now, or we'd have an even bigger headache." With a start, you recognize the resonant tones of Reverend Gillespie.

"I'm not followin' you," Hank says.

"The point is, you know she's here. Later on tonight, or tomorrow, you might think to ask questions."

"I know how to keep my mouth shut," Hank says. "Of course, if you had a few bucks to spread around, it'd set my conscience at ease."

"You think he'd stay bought?" the first man says.

"I think the longer we let him think he's negotiating, the harder it'll be to do what has to be done."

Hank's voice rises. "Now, wait just a-" He's cut off by a BANG so loud it makes you jump. You aren't sure you didn't let out a scream too, but the bang was loud enough to cover any sounds you made.

There's a longish silence, punctuated only by shuffling and scraping noises. "What are we going to do with his stuff?" asks Reverend Gillespie.

"Burn it. You saw the incinerator out back. Then we take him out in Beauregard's boat and lose him."

"What about his car?"

"Here are the keys. Ask Beauregard. Maybe the nigger can drive it off somewhere, leave the keys in the ignition. Somebody's bound to steal it."

There's more shuffling, and the sound of something heavy being dragged. You find that you're trembling. For a long time after the sounds stop, you crouch in the closet, deathly afraid to make the slightest noise, afraid to peek out for fear they haven't gone, or are coming back.

Not far away you hear the heavy sound of a motorboat engine coughing to life. The boat's drone dies away into the distance, but even then you hang back, still nervous. But at last the stuffy air and the sense that if you don't move you'll be entombed forever in this tiny space are too much for you. You push the closet door open and creep out.

The cabin looks a lot more vacant than it did before. Hank is gone, and so are his things. The one addition to the decor is a large puddle of something dark and wet in the middle of the floor.
action: You look at the puddle
response: The shallow pool of blood in the middle of the floor is spattered and smeared, as if something has been dragged through it. A couple of flies are already circling around it.
action: Go east
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Six (to the west) and Cabin Three (to the east). The croquet court continues north from here. To the south, a little slope ends at the watery edge of a swamp, and a path to the southwest leads toward a good-sized shed that stands at the edge of the water.

You notice a trickle of smoke rising from the area behind the western row of cabins.
action: You go to the south
response: The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.

As you pause to gaze out across the swamp, feeling both fascinated by its exotic, other-worldly flavor and repelled by its air of foulness and decay, a swirl of mist rising from the water congeals into a figure - a large figure, which drifts swiftly toward you. You stare at it, horrified but unable to look away.

The figure must be at least twenty feet tall. It's made of mist, and ought to be tenuous, insubstantial, but somehow it seems more solid than that. The gray filaments of turbulent vapor are shot through with veins of red and black. The thing has a huge, gaping mouth studded with sharp fangs. Its tongue writhes out toward you obscenely, as if it's trying to lick you. Its meaty hands grope toward you, the claws slashing.

But then, as suddenly as it came, the apparition evaporates. You're standing looking out at the swamp, and there's nothing there but swamp. You discover that you've been holding your breath, and let it out shakily.
action: Go west
response: A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built. The door is standing wide open.

You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.
action: You go northwest
response: This may once have been a garden, but now it's just a final resting place for junk - lots and lots of junk - and nothing grows here but weeds. The falling-down shack stands (if that's the right word) north of here, its single square window looking out on the junk. The area where the van is parked is to the northeast, and the area behind the cabins is east. Off to the southeast stands the shed at the edge of the swamp.

The way westward is blocked by an improbably dense thicket of bramble-bushes.

A column of whitish smoke is curling up from the incinerator behind the western row of shacks.
action: You go east
response: The open area behind the western row of cabins is thinly carpeted with scruffy, dusty weeds. A large, rusted incinerator, from which a thin coil of smoke is rising, stands in the middle of the open space. A scraggly tree has set down roots quite close to the leftmost of the three cabins whose rear walls form a barrier to the east.

To the south is the shed at the edge of the swamp. You can go north to the area in front of the run-down shack, where the motel's dusty van is parked. The overgrown, junk-strewn garden beside the shack is to the west.
action: You take all from the incinerator
response: flames: You'd burn your fingers.
action: You go south
response: A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built. The door is standing wide open.

You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.

You notice a trickle of smoke rising from the area behind the western row of cabins.
action: Go east
response: The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.

You find yourself wanting to hurry along, so as not to catch another glimpse, even out of the corner of your eye, of the terrible swamp-thing you saw - or imagined you saw - before.
action: You pour the water in the incinerator
response: The water quickly douses the flames, leaving a mess of soggy ashes.
action: Search ashes
response: Poking around in the charred and soggy remains at the bottom of the incinerator, you find a treasure - Hank's map of the swamp! One corner is charred, but it didn't burn! You pull it out, wipe off the gunk as carefully as you can, and unfold it. But something very odd is going on. The lines on the map refuse to lie still on the paper. At first you think it's your eyes, still smarting from the smoke, and you rub them. But no, the lines on the map continually squirm, contort, twist, and writhe as you watch in a way that's both impossible and deeply frightening.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, an old shovel, a gold locket, and some faded photographs), the key to Cabin One, a pill bottle, a little white pill, a croquet hoop, a wooden bucket, and an indecipherable map. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You examine the map
response: The piece of paper is creased and dog-eared. One edge is badly charred. The lines and shapes drawn on the piece of paper are squirming and writhing. It's impossible to get any clear idea what they represent.
action: Go north
response: A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.

You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
action: You knock on the door
response: Your knock is answered after a moment by a short, stocky woman whose black hair and broad, flat features suggest that her ancestry is Central American. She looks down at you impassively. "Oh, it's you," she says. "You're the girl, the one they brought. Mr. Beauregard he said he didn't want you in the house, but I think he gone off somewhere, so I don't care. You can come in if you want to. I'm Luisa. I work here, keep the house clean. Just don't make a mess I got to clean up, you can go where you want." She has a heavy Hispanic accent, but her words are not hard to understand. She turns and goes back inside, leaving the door open.
action: Go inside
response: The van has the usual front and rear seats. Through the dust-speckled windows you can see the house, the driveway, the shack, and the cabins. The interior smells faintly of gasoline.
action: You go north
response: The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

On the stove is a tea kettle.

Luisa is sitting at the kitchen table, shelling peas.
action: You ask Luisa about Luisa
response: "Hello, Luisa," you say.

She looks up from her work. "What do you want? You want somethin'?"

When you ask Luisa about herself, she looks away. "I'm nobody," she says. "I just clean the house is all."
action: You ask Luisa about Phelps
response: Luisa's face crinkles up in an expression that might possibly be a smile. "Mr. Phelps, he's good to me. He brought me here from my home. Long time ago. I was a girl just like you."
action: You ask Luisa about the eternal Springs
response: "It's okay here," Luisa says when you ask about Eternal Springs. "There's worse places. I get lonely sometimes, but it's not too bad."
action: You ask Luisa about the picnic
response: Trying not to sound serious or concerned, you casually mention to Luisa the picnic Beauregard and your aunt have told you they're planning for tonight. Luisa's mouth sets in a grim line, and her accent thickens as she replies, "I don' know nothin' about that. Nothin'."

But won't she need to prepare the food, you ask innocently. Luisa turns away without answering.
action: You ask Luisa about Tyrone
response: Luisa shrugs. "He's all right. He treats me all right."
action: You ask Luisa about the wasp nest
response: "You ascared of them wasps?" Luisa's face crinkles in a not very friendly grin, and she chuckles. "Girls are, sometimes. Listen, you: There's worse things than wasps."
action: You ask Luisa about the boys
response: "Oh, those boys," Luisa says, shaking her head in disgust. "They're not nice at all. You don't want to go hang around with them."
action: You ask Luisa about the swamp
response: When you mention the swamp, Luisa shakes her head slowly and heavily. "There's bad things out there in the swamp. Things that bite you, suck out your blood. Don' even think about going swimming out there. I wouldn't even go out there in a boat. It might tip over, then where would you be? You tell me that."
action: You ask Luisa about the tea
response: "Oh, that." Luisa shrugs. "It ain't none of my business."
action: You ask Luisa about the altar
response: Luisa shakes her head. "I don't know nothin' about that. And I don't want to know, neither."
action: You ask Luisa about the ghost
response: Tentatively you describe the ghostly apparition you saw in the meadow. Luisa shakes her head. "Don't you go down there. That's a bad place, not a place for a girl like you."
action: You ask Luisa about the dog
response: Luisa's attention is on the peas she's shelling. She seems not to have heard you.
action: You ask Luisa about Reverend
response: "I stay in the house," Luisa says. "The guests, I don' even know who they are, mostly."
action: You ask Luisa about Honey
response: "You want to know about who's staying here, you go knock on their cabins and ask them. Or ask Mr. Beauregard. Or even Tyrone, he might know something. Not me."
action: You ask Luisa about the house
response: "It's an old house," Luisa says. "Really old. It's not too nice, but I keep it clean."
action: You open the cupboard
response: Luisa pushes back the chair and half-rises. "I don't want you messin' around with stuff in my kitchen," she says pointedly. "Why don't you go play someplace else?" You decide it would be better not to provoke her. Sooner or later she's bound to leave the kitchen unguarded. You'll be able to come back then and have a look around.
action: You ask Luisa about the boathouse
response: "That's not something I goin' to worry about," she says. "Not right now."
action: You examine the appliances
response: The appliances include the sink, the stove, and the refrigerator. To interact with them, you need to refer to them singly.
action: You examine the sink
response: The sink is lined with a mottled crust of scum. A faucet is mounted above it.
action: You examine the stove
response: The old-fashioned electric stove has an oven door in the front and four heating elements on the top.
action: You examine the fridge
response: The refrigerator (in this part of the country they probably still call it an icebox) is fairly ordinary-looking. There's no ice dispenser or anything.
action: You open the fridge
response: Luisa gets up and comes toward you. "What did I tell you? Don't go messin' with anything in my kitchen! Shoo!" She waves her arms at you.
action: You examine the peas
response: The peas are green - well, actually, there are as many brown ones as green ones. Some of them are shelled, some are still in their pods.
It looks as if Luisa is tossing the shelled peas and the empty pods back into the bowl with the unshelled ones, because there's no pile of pods nearby. You make a mental note not to have any peas at dinner.
action: Go north
response: This cheerless cubicle is lined with unusually deep shelves, which rest (unevenly) on metal brackets attached to the wall. In years past the pantry might have been well-stocked, but today the only thing to be seen on the shelves are rat droppings and a few shrivelled onions. There's an open doorway to the south and a door to the west, which is closed.
action: You examine the onions
response: The onions appear to be a couple of years old. Some of them have sprouted, and the sprouts are brown and dried up too.
action: Go west
response: (first unlocking the door, then opening it)

This flimsy wooden platform overlooks the cellar. Stairs lead downward to the west, and there's a door to the east.
action: Go east
response: This cheerless cubicle is lined with unusually deep shelves, which rest (unevenly) on metal brackets attached to the wall. In years past the pantry might have been well-stocked, but today the only thing to be seen on the shelves are rat droppings and a few shrivelled onions. There's an open doorway to the south and a door to the west, which is standing open.
action: Go east
response: The big dining room has windows on the east and south and doorways on the north and west. Other than a long dining table and some ill-assorted chairs, the room is bare and featureless. It smells sour, as if food served and eaten here a long time ago still lingers in the plaster of the walls.

A little oval of grayish stones is lying on the table. It looks rather like a crude bracelet.
action: You look at the oval
response: The gold locket is an old-fashioned oval no bigger than the last joint of your little finger. It's suspended from a delicate gold chain. Inside the locket is a tiny snapshot of a woman's face.
action: You examine the grayish stones
response: The bracelet is made of irregular chunks of gray-white stone about the size of marbles. Each stone is incised with a symbol of some sort.
The symbols look vaguely like letters, but not in any alphabet you've ever seen.
action: You look at the symbols
response: The letters on the stone bracelet are unlike any alphabet you've ever seen - there's something like an upside-down 'Y', a 'Q' with its tail on the wrong side, a zigzag like a lightning-bolt, and so on. There's not much chance you'll be able to figure out what they mean - not this afternoon, anyhow.
action: You go north
response: The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
action: You examine the clock
response: The grandfather clock stands as stiff and still as a tombstone, except that within it a brass heart ticks as the pendulum swings back and forth behind the long glass door. The clock face is numbered using Roman numerals, to which a pair of ornate old-fashioned brass hands (rather bent and tarnished) are pointing. If the clock is to be believed, it's now 3:33.
action: You examine table
response: The spindly old telephone table is made of dark wood. It sits in a corner next to the door, supporting an old-fashioned black telephone, the kind with a dial instead of buttons.
action: Go north
response: The living room is not actually a small room, but it feels cramped because of the amount of thrift-shop furniture crammed into it.
There's a fireplace on the north side of the room, a window to the east, and a tall, heavy bookcase against the west wall. An archway leads back to the south.
action: You look at the fireplace
response: The interior of the brick fireplace is charred black, but no fire has been laid. (Not surprising, considering the hot weather.)  Standing in front of the fireplace are a poker and a pair of fire tongs.
action: You examine the bookcase
response: The bookcase is six feet tall and heavily built. The shelves are crammed with books, which is somewhat surprising, because Beauregard Phelps doesn't look to you like the reading type.

There's an interesting-looking oversize book lying flat on one shelf.
action: You look at the oversize book
response: The cloth-covered book is hundreds of pages thick and more than a foot square. The pages don't fit neatly between the covers; the book appears to have been bound by hand. The front cover, of well-worn coarse cloth, is blank: No title or author, no lettering of any kind.
action: You read it
response: (first taking the sketchbook)
The book proves to contain almost nothing but hand-drawn pencil sketches - more than a hundred of them on thick, stiff paper. Each sketch is different, but there's a common theme. Most show monsters and demons of various sorts, in various poses and settings. As you leaf through the book, you find that you're becoming more and more disturbed by the gruesome images.

At the bottom of each sketch, a single word has been written in block capitals. The words themselves have an exotic, foreign flavor that matches the bizarre pictures. Here's a sketch of two demons with fangs and spears stabbing a huge feathered serpent, or possibly a dragon. Beneath the sketch is the word HUATLI.

Another sketch, perhaps the most frightening of the lot, shows a young girl lying naked on her back on a block of stone. A man in an elaborate headdress looms over her with an upraised dagger, while a huge demon with claws and flaming eyes looks on. Beneath this image is the word OLTIOC.

A sketch of a demon eating what looks disgustingly like a human heart is labelled ZIATLI. A sketch of two men in headdresses holding a girl between them and presenting her to a giant serpent is labelled MAZIDI. A sketch of a girl being - no, that one is too upsetting even to think about, but you notice the word UMIXIM below it.

As you're about to close the book in disgust and fear, it falls open to a sketch you hadn't noticed before - two men in headdresses kneeling, four girls marching up a ramp, and a single huge demon leering down at them. It's the same image as the carving on the stone block in the meadow! Below this image is the word IXTLOC.
action: You put the book in the bookcase
response: The sketchbook is too large for the bookcase.
action: You take the tongs and the poker
response: fire tongs: Taken.

poker:
(first putting the pill bottle in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the key to Cabin One in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the little white pill in the burlap sack to make room)
Taken.
action: You put the poker and the tongs in the sack
response: poker: Done.
fire tongs: Done.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: The living room is not actually a small room, but it feels cramped because of the amount of thrift-shop furniture crammed into it.
There's a fireplace on the north side of the room, a window to the east, and a tall, heavy bookcase against the west wall. An archway leads back to the south.
action: Examine books
response: The books are jammed onto the shelves in haphazard fashion. Scanning the spines, you see quite a number of hardbacks that look a lot like the first editions of mysteries by John Dickson Carr that your aunt has in her collection at home. Several titles are new to you, though.
action: Go south
response: The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
action: You go west
response: You walk down the narrow, ill-lit hall, and emerge in what appears to be an office.

This room looks as if it serves as Beauregard Phelps's office. It's frankly a mess - littered with teetering piles of yellowing paper.
It's dominated by a big desk, which sits in the center of the room with a chair behind it. Beneath the window at the west end of the room is a small square table, on which rests a curious device.
action: You look at the device
response: The device is circular, and about the size of a small lazy susan. Bright sunlight shines directly on it through the window. The central part of the device is a circular platform of polished wood, in which is inlaid an arrow in lighter wood. The arrow points somewhat to the left of the window. Also incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room.

Mounted along the edges of the circle are several clear glass prisms and several more small rectangular mirrors. The latter are held in place by slim brass mounting clips. One of the mounting clips is empty, however.

As the sunlight hits the prisms, a rainbow of light cascades across the surface of the device.
action: You examine the desk
response: The big desk is made of some dark wood, possibly oak.
action: You examine the chair
response: The leather of the chair is cracked and faded.
action: You look at the table
response: The table sits beneath the window, with the bright afternoon sun shining directly on it. Atop the table is a curious device that glitters in the sun.
action: You examine the window
response: The window, which is set in a heavy wood frame, is the old-fashioned kind that's opened by raising it. It overlooks the driveway. Sunlight is streaming through it, directly on the mirrors and prisms of the curious circular device.
action: Go east
response: The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
action: Go upwards
response: The stairs creak a bit as you climb.

This stuffy passageway extends westward from the head of the stairs, which lead down to the entry hall. The wallpaper is blotchy, and the residual grime along the baseboard suggests that the housekeeping has been perfunctory at best. There are doorways in the north and south walls.
action: You examine wallpaper
response: The wallpaper is decorated with an ugly fleur-de-lis pattern that looks disturbingly like the clawed fingers of a hand.
action: Go north
response: This stark bedroom seems to be a repository for cast-off furniture, some of which probably dates back to the Civil War. The bedstead has an iron frame, but no mattress. The door back to the hall is to the south, and an open doorway leads west into a closet. In the north wall is a window.

A crow is perched on the sill just outside the window.

The crow flaps heavily away, but a moment later he's back.
action: You examine the crow
response: The crow is large and black, and has beady black eyes. He's perched on the sill just outside the window, fluffing his wing feathers and pecking for lice.

The crow taps on the window with his beak.
action: You open window
response: With a little effort, you're able to push the lower half of the window upward, letting in what passes for fresh air in rural Mississippi on a hot summer afternoon.

The crow flies away when you open the window ... but a moment later he's back, looking into the room with keen interest.
action: You examine the bed
response: The bed consists of an iron frame and an open platform or grid of wires on which a mattress would lie, if there were a mattress.

The crow squawks mildly at you.
action: You examine the furniture
response: The bed consists of an iron frame and an open platform or grid of wires on which a mattress would lie, if there were a mattress.
action: You go to the west
response: The closet is small and pretty much empty. Set in one wall is a little metal door about a foot high. The bedroom is to the east.
action: You look at the door
response: The metal door is about six inches wide and ten inches high. It's badly rusted.
action: You open the door
response: You open the little door - and jump back about two feet, banging your head painfully against the far wall of the closet. Perched on a web in the shallow recess behind the metal door is the biggest spider you've ever seen!
action: You look at the spider
response: The spider is easily as big as a tarantula, but hairless and a gleaming milky white. It's busily spinning its web.
action: Go east
response: This stark bedroom seems to be a repository for cast-off furniture, some of which probably dates back to the Civil War. The bedstead has an iron frame, but no mattress. The door back to the hall is to the south, and an open doorway leads west into a closet. In the north wall is a window.

A crow is perched on the windowsill, looking around the room.

The crow fluffs his feathers.
action: You take the crow
response: The crow sidles away from you rapidly.

The crow squawks mildly at you.
action: You go west
response: The closet is small and pretty much empty. Set in one wall is a little metal door about a foot high, which is open, giving you a close-up view of the biggest spider you've ever seen. The bedroom is to the east.
action: You look in the door
response: Behind the little metal door is a shallow recess. What lies within is largely obscured by a heavy curtain of spiderweb. Within the web a fat white spider is busily spinning.
action: You kill the spider
response: On a normal day, you might be able to grit your teeth and force yourself to do something with (or to) the spider. But you're feeling pretty nervous today. You just can't quite bring yourself to get that close to it.
action: You hit the spider with shovel
response: (first taking the old shovel from the burlap sack)
On a normal day, you might be able to grit your teeth and force yourself to do something with (or to) the spider. But you're feeling pretty nervous today. You just can't quite bring yourself to get that close to it.
action: You hit the spider with the poker
response: (first putting the old shovel in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the poker from the burlap sack)
On a normal day, you might be able to grit your teeth and force yourself to do something with (or to) the spider. But you're feeling pretty nervous today. You just can't quite bring yourself to get that close to it.
action: You go to the east
response: This stark bedroom seems to be a repository for cast-off furniture, some of which probably dates back to the Civil War. The bedstead has an iron frame, but no mattress. The door back to the hall is to the south, and an open doorway leads west into a closet. In the north wall is a window.

A crow is perched on the windowsill, looking around the room.
action: Go south
response: This stuffy passageway extends westward from the head of the stairs, which lead down to the entry hall. The wallpaper is blotchy, and the residual grime along the baseboard suggests that the housekeeping has been perfunctory at best. There are doorways in the north and south walls.
action: You go to the south
response: This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands against the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard.
action: You look at the clown
response: The clown seems to have been painted on the wallboard many years ago, in a style that was probably cloyingly cutesy even then. By now the image is patchy and faded. A crack in the plaster runs diagonally down through the clown's face and across the corner of his mouth, making his expression look less festive or playful than ironic or mocking.
action: You look at the cradle
response: The fabric that covers the high-sided cradle may once have been pink, but the years have bleached it. The cradle stands about three feet high, and is built on wooden rockers.
action: Rock cradle
response: You push the cradle idly, causing it to rock. As it moves, you catch sight of a heating grate in the baseboard behind it. Curious, you drag the cradle out into the middle of the room to have a better look at the grate.
action: You examine the grate
response: The heating grate is set in the baseboard in the west wall of the room. It's about a foot high and two feet wide, and is covered with a metal grill, which is stained by years of smoky furnace fumes. It's held in place by a couple of heavy metal screws.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, a gold locket, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a stone bracelet, a sketchbook, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, some fire tongs, an old shovel, and a poker), a croquet hoop, and a wooden bucket. You're wearing your clothes.
action: Unscrew grate
response: The screws are too stiff for you to move them with your fingers. If you want to unscrew them, you'll need to find a screwdriver.
action: You examine table
response: The table is built of dark, waterstained wood, and the legs look a bit uneven. Occupying the top of the table is a model merry-go-round.
action: You look at the model
response: The merry-go-round is large and old-fashioned. It's made of painted tin, and the paint is flecked and the tin rusting. The little painted horses are cavorting (motionlessly, of course) with a toothy gaiety that looks rather forced, if not actually hysterical. The round base of the merry-go-round is about two inches thick, and more than a foot in diameter.
action: Turn model
response: You push the merry-go-round experimentally. The base seems to want to rotate, but it balks. Perhaps it's stuck.
action: You take the model
response: It seems to be attached to the table.
action: You examine the base
response: The base of the merry-go-round looks to be thick enough to conceal a mechanism that might cause the merry-go-round to rotate. Around at the rear of the base, where you would never have noticed it if you weren't looking, is a little keyhole.
action: You examine the crack
response: The clown seems to have been painted on the wallboard many years ago, in a style that was probably cloyingly cutesy even then. By now the image is patchy and faded. A crack in the plaster runs diagonally down through the clown's face and across the corner of his mouth, making his expression look less festive or playful than ironic or mocking.
action: Look around
response: This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard.
action: Go west
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads north, back to the upstairs hall.
action: Go north
response: This stuffy passageway extends westward from the head of the stairs, which lead down to the entry hall. The wallpaper is blotchy, and the residual grime along the baseboard suggests that the housekeeping has been perfunctory at best. There are doorways in the north and south walls.
action: EXITS
response: Obvious exits lead north, to the dreary bedroom; south, back to the abandoned nursery; west; and down, to the entry hall.
action: Go north
response: This stark bedroom seems to be a repository for cast-off furniture, some of which probably dates back to the Civil War. The bedstead has an iron frame, but no mattress. The door back to the hall is to the south, and an open doorway leads west into a closet. In the north wall is a window.

A crow is perched on the windowsill, looking around the room.

The crow squawks mildly at you.
action: EXITS
response: Obvious exits lead south, back to the upstairs hall; and west, to the closet.

The crow fluffs his feathers.
action: Go west
response: The upstairs hall, which extends eastward, widens here to form an odd-shaped space. It's too open to be called a room, but too functional to be called a hallway. An ironing board is set up in the northeast corner, and behind it a narrow, steep stairway ascends. There's a doorway to the north, a wide, massive closed door to the south, and a broad window on the west wall, beneath which is a box-shaped window seat.
action: You examine the board
response: It's an ordinary ironing board, with green metal fold-up legs.
action: You examine the window seat
response: The window seat is a boxlike structure built into the west end of the hall, beneath the window. The top is covered with a thin and faded blue cushion.
action: You open it
response: Opening the window seat reveals a small round threaded object and an old-fashioned brass key.
action: You take all from the seat
response: small round threaded object: Taken.
old-fashioned brass key: Taken.
action: You examine the brass key
response: The old-fashioned key is short and sturdy. The business end doesn't have much in the way of slots and teeth.
action: You examine the round object
response: The small round threaded object looks a lot like the base of a lightbulb without the bulb. Where the bulb should be is a flat circle of glass.
action: Go north
response: The bathroom is cramped and not especially clean. The old-fashioned claw-footed bathtub is lined with brown encrustations, and the other fixtures are just as old and ill-cared-for. The sink is on a free-standing pedestal, with a mirror above it. The door is to the south.

A small hand mirror is perched on the edge of the basin.
action: You look at the sink
response: The sink is equipped with the usual faucets, and perches atop a narrow, grimy porcelain pedestal.

A small hand mirror is perched on the edge of the basin.
action: You examine the hand mirror
response: The mirror is about three inches wide and two inches high. It's well polished, but it's just a piece of glass - there's no frame or backing.
action: You put it in the sack
response: (first taking the hand mirror)
Done.
action: You examine the tub
response: The old-fashioned claw-footed bathtub is lined with layers of brown sediment.
action: Look around
response: The bathroom is cramped and not especially clean. The old-fashioned claw-footed bathtub is lined with brown encrustations, and the other fixtures are just as old and ill-cared-for. The sink is on a free-standing pedestal, with a mirror above it. The door is to the south.
action: You examine the pedestal
response: The sink is equipped with the usual faucets, and perches atop a narrow, grimy porcelain pedestal.
action: Go south
response: The upstairs hall, which extends eastward, widens here to form an odd-shaped space. It's too open to be called a room, but too functional to be called a hallway. An ironing board is set up in the northeast corner, and behind it a narrow, steep stairway ascends. There's a doorway to the north, a wide, massive closed door to the south, and a broad window on the west wall, beneath which is a box-shaped window seat.
action: You go south
response: The upstairs hall, which extends eastward, widens here to form an odd-shaped space. It's too open to be called a room, but too functional to be called a hallway. An ironing board is set up in the northeast corner, and behind it a narrow, steep stairway ascends. There's a doorway to the north, a wide, massive closed door to the south, and a broad window on the west wall, beneath which is a box-shaped window seat.

You see a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, a gold locket, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a stone bracelet, a sketchbook, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, some fire tongs, an old shovel, a poker, and a hand mirror) here.
action: You examine the window
response: Looking out through the window, you can see the gravel driveway below. Beyond the driveway is a thicket of bushes.
action: You look at the door
response: The door is made of dark, irregularly water-stained wood, and looks quite sturdy. A little brass peephole is set in the door at about eye height.
action: You look in the peephole
response: You press your eye to the peephole, but the lens appears to be one of the kind that gives a wide-angle view from the inside. You're on the wrong side of the door, so all you can see is a pinprick of light at the far end of a dark tunnel.
action: You unlock door with the brass key
response: There doesn't seem to be any way to do that. There's no visible keyhole.
action: You go upwards
response: As you climb, the air around you, hot to begin with, gets even hotter.

It's as hot as a blast furnace in the attic. The ceiling is low, and slants down at the sides of the room. A narrow single bed stands against one wall and a small dresser against another. The room is undecorated except for a rather large doll, which stands stiffly posed atop the dresser.
action: You examine doll
response: The doll is about a foot tall, and stands stiffly. She has a painted china face, and is wearing a blouse that looks as if it was cut from an old lace doily and a yellow skirt whose draped corners make it look rather like a handkerchief or a small scarf.
action: You examine dresser
response: The dresser is little more than a box with a couple of drawers in the front - it's small enough to fit under the slanting ceiling. Atop the dresser is a large doll.
action: You look at the bed
response: The bed is narrow, and the mattress looks thin and hard.
action: You unlock the model with the brass key
response: The little key slides easily into the keyhole in the base of the merry-go-round. You give the key a twist. As you wind up the mechanism, the merry-go-round springs into motion. It creaks and wheezes a little as it rotates, but as the horses go up and down in a festive way a tinkly sentimental tune emanates from within the base.
action: You listen to model
response: The merry-go-round is playing a tinny little tune.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: Open model
response: That is not something you can open.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: You take the spider with the tongs
response: (first taking the fire tongs from the burlap sack)
On a normal day, you might be able to grit your teeth and force yourself to do something with (or to) the spider. But you're feeling pretty nervous today. You just can't quite bring yourself to get that close to it.
action: You go to the east
response: This stark bedroom seems to be a repository for cast-off furniture, some of which probably dates back to the Civil War. The bedstead has an iron frame, but no mattress. The door back to the hall is to the south, and an open doorway leads west into a closet. In the north wall is a window.

A crow is perched on the windowsill, looking around the room.

The crow hops down from the sill to check the floor, sees nothing that would interest him, and hops back up.
action: You go to the south
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads east, back to the dreary bedroom.
action: Go downwards
response: The stairs creak a bit as you descend, a low-pitched sigh like a heavy old woman getting comfortable.

The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
action: You go to the west
response: You walk down the narrow, ill-lit hall, and emerge in the office.

This room looks as if it serves as Beauregard Phelps's office. It's frankly a mess - littered with teetering piles of yellowing paper.
It's dominated by a big desk, which sits in the center of the room with a chair behind it. Beneath the window at the west end of the room is a small square table, on which rests a curious device.
action: You put the mirror in the bracket
response: (first taking the hand mirror from the burlap sack)
You fit the mirror into the brass clip.
action: You examine the device
response: The device is circular, and about the size of a small lazy susan. Bright sunlight shines directly on it through the window. The central part of the device is a circular platform of polished wood, in which is inlaid an arrow in lighter wood. The arrow points somewhat to the left of the window. Also incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room.

Mounted along the edges of the circle are several clear glass prisms and several more small rectangular mirrors. The latter are held in place by slim brass mounting clips. There are mirrors or prisms in all of the clips.

As the sunlight hits the prisms, a rainbow of light cascades across the surface of the device.
action: You examine the arrow
response: The wooden circle at the center of the curious device is about a foot in diameter. The surface is dark except for a lighter-colored inlaid arrow, which points out the window, more or less in the direction of the afternoon sun. Incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room.
action: You look at the device
response: The device is circular, and about the size of a small lazy susan. Bright sunlight shines directly on it through the window. The central part of the device is a circular platform of polished wood, in which is inlaid an arrow in lighter wood. The arrow points somewhat to the left of the window. Also incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room.

Mounted along the edges of the circle are several clear glass prisms and several more small rectangular mirrors. The latter are held in place by slim brass mounting clips. There are mirrors or prisms in all of the clips.

As the sunlight hits the prisms, a rainbow of light cascades across the surface of the device. On the wooden circle is a small round threaded object.
action: You put the round in the sack
response: (first taking the small round threaded object)
Done.
action: You put the bracelet on the circle
response: (first taking the stone bracelet from the burlap sack)
Done.
action: You examine the device
response: The device is circular, and about the size of a small lazy susan. Bright sunlight shines directly on it through the window. The central part of the device is a circular platform of polished wood, in which is inlaid an arrow in lighter wood. The arrow points somewhat to the left of the window. Also incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room.

Mounted along the edges of the circle are several clear glass prisms and several more small rectangular mirrors. The latter are held in place by slim brass mounting clips. There are mirrors or prisms in all of the clips.

As the sunlight hits the prisms, a rainbow of light cascades across the surface of the device. On the wooden circle is a stone bracelet.
action: You put the bracelet in the sack
response: (first taking the stone bracelet)
Done.
action: You put the round object in the bracket
response: (first taking the small round threaded object from the burlap sack)
The small round threaded object doesn't seem to fit in the brass clip.
action: You examine paper
response: (the indecipherable map)
The piece of paper is creased and dog-eared. One edge is badly charred. The lines and shapes drawn on the piece of paper are squirming and writhing. It's impossible to get any clear idea what they represent.
action: You look at the yellowing paper
response: Among the piles of paper you spot a newspaper dated February 1957. That's the most interesting thing in the lot, and it's not even faintly interesting.
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 3:45.
action: Go east
response: The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
action: You go south
response: The big dining room has windows on the east and south and doorways on the north and west. Other than a long dining table and some ill-assorted chairs, the room is bare and featureless. It smells sour, as if food served and eaten here a long time ago still lingers in the plaster of the walls.
action: You go west
response: The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

On the stove is a tea kettle.

Luisa is sitting at the kitchen table, shelling peas.
action: You examine the chairs
response: The chairs arranged (haphazardly) around the long dining table look as if they were bought at various yard sales. And not recently.
action: You examine the window
response: Which window do you mean, the south window, or the east window?
action: South
response: The south window looks out toward the double row of cabins.
action: You examine the east window
response: The east window looks out on an empty section of the porch, and beyond that the lawn.
action: You look at the door
response: Which door do you mean, the long glass door in the clock, or the screen door?
action: Screen
response: The front door is standing open, but the screen door, in which there are only five or six small holes, is pretending to be at work keeping bugs out of the house. It's open.
action: You examine the glass door
response: The glass door in the front of the clock protects the pendulum.
action: You open it
response: You tug on the door, but it seems to be stuck.
action: Go north
response: The living room is not actually a small room, but it feels cramped because of the amount of thrift-shop furniture crammed into it.
There's a fireplace on the north side of the room, a window to the east, and a tall, heavy bookcase against the west wall. An archway leads back to the south.

The bookcase contains a mystery by John Dickson Carr.
action: You examine Carr
response: It's a pristine first edition of a novel called "The Four False Weapons," by a British author named John Dickson Carr. (The reason you know he's British is because Aunt Caroline is always raving about him.) The lurid dust jacket depicts a woman in a yellow evening gown who is cowering in fear from a dagger, a revolver, a razor, and a bottle of poison, all of which are swirling around her in the air.
action: You read carr
response: (first taking the mystery by John Dickson Carr)
Boh-rring. this would put you to sleep for sure. Looks like Beauregard enjoys boring old mysteries as much as your aunt does.
action: You go west
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads south, back to the entry hall.
action: You examine the shelves
response: The bare pine shelves are broad, deep, and mostly bare, except for dried rat droppings (plentiful) and shrivelled onions (less so). The shelves are fitted into the wall of the pantry by being mounted on metal brackets.
action: You examine the brackets
response: The brackets stick out an inch or so from the walls on both sides of the pantry. The brackets are supporting the shelves.
action: You search the shelves
response: On the shelves are some rat droppings and some onions. Peering into the dim depths at the rear of the shelves, you see what looks like a square hatch built into the wall.
action: You remove the shelves
response: Glancing out the door of the pantry, you notice that Luisa is still sitting at the table - and her eyes flick in your direction, as if she's not entirely unaware of your presence. It would undoubtedly be better to wait until she goes somewhere else before removing the shelves from their brackets so as to get at that intriguing-looking hatch.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying a croquet hoop, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, a gold locket, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a sketchbook, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, a poker, a small round threaded object, a stone bracelet, and a mystery by John Dickson Carr), some fire tongs, and a hand mirror. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You show the photos to Luisa
response: (first taking the faded photographs from the burlap sack)
As you start to speak, Luisa scowls at you irritably. "Why don't you go outside and play?"

Luisa is busy working, and pays no attention to you.
action: You ask Luisa about the threaded object
response: "I got work to do," Luisa says. "I don' have time to talk to silly girls."
action: You ask Luisa about the spider
response: You start to tell Luisa about the awful white spider in the closet upstairs, but she cuts you off. "We get spiders in the house sometimes," she says. "Big, ugly ones. You're not ascared of spiders, are you?" Her laugh has a contemptuous edge.
action: You ask Luisa about the crow
response: You mention the crow you saw at the window in the bedroom. "He's always out there," Luisa says. "I think he'd like to come inside, find somethin' to eat, but I always shoo him away."
action: You go to the east
response: The big dining room has windows on the east and south and doorways on the north and west. Other than a long dining table and some ill-assorted chairs, the room is bare and featureless. It smells sour, as if food served and eaten here a long time ago still lingers in the plaster of the walls.
action: You put map on the device
response: (first taking the indecipherable map from the burlap sack)
Done.
action: You examine the device
response: The device is circular, and about the size of a small lazy susan. Bright sunlight shines directly on it through the window. The central part of the device is a circular platform of polished wood, in which is inlaid an arrow in lighter wood. The arrow points somewhat to the left of the window. Also incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room.

Mounted along the edges of the circle are several clear glass prisms and several more small rectangular mirrors. The latter are held in place by slim brass mounting clips. One of the mounting clips is empty, however.

As the sunlight hits the prisms, a rainbow of light cascades across the surface of the device. On the wooden circle is an indecipherable map.
action: You examine the map
response: The piece of paper is creased and dog-eared. One edge is badly charred. The lines and shapes drawn on the piece of paper are squirming and writhing. It's impossible to get any clear idea what they represent.
action: You put the mirror in bracket
response: You fit the mirror into the brass clip.
action: You look at sun
response: The sun is shining in the window.
action: You look at the arrow
response: The wooden circle at the center of the curious device is about a foot in diameter. The surface is dark except for a lighter-colored inlaid arrow, which points out the window, more or less in the direction of the afternoon sun. Incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room. On the wooden circle is an indecipherable map.
action: Map in sack
response: stone bracelet:
(first taking off the stone bracelet)
Done.

indecipherable map: Done.
action: Go up
response: The stairs creak a bit as you climb, a low-pitched sigh like a heavy old woman getting comfortable.

This stuffy passageway extends westward from the head of the stairs, which lead down to the entry hall. The wallpaper is blotchy, and the residual grime along the baseboard suggests that the housekeeping has been perfunctory at best. There are doorways in the north and south walls.
action: You go south
response: This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard.
action: Wind model
response: You give the key a twist. As you wind up the mechanism, the merry-go-round springs into motion. It creaks and wheezes a little as it rotates, but as the horses go up and down in a festive way a tinkly sentimental tune emanates from within the base.
action: You go south
response: This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard. As the music from the merry-go-round plays, the painting of the clown seems for a moment to be rippling, as if his feet are moving. But when you squint at the image, you decide you must be mistaken.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: You take the model
response: It seems to be attached to the table.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a croquet hoop, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, a gold locket, a sketchbook, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, a poker, a small round threaded object, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, some faded photographs, a stone bracelet, an indecipherable map, and a hand mirror), and some fire tongs. You're wearing your clothes.
action: Wind model
response: You give the key a twist. As you wind up the mechanism, the merry-go-round springs into motion. It creaks and wheezes a little as it rotates, but as the horses go up and down in a festive way a tinkly sentimental tune emanates from within the base.
action: You look at the clown
response: For a moment, you have the odd sensation that the clown is beckoning to you, that he has stretched out one hand as if trying to reach toward you. But no, it's only your imagination, or a trick of the light. A crack in the plaster runs diagonally down through the clown's face and across the corner of his mouth, making his expression look less festive or playful than ironic or mocking.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: Open clown
response: That is not something you can open.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: You touch clown
response: As your fingers brush the rough surface of the wall, it seems the painted clown is reaching out toward you. You can feel the cloth of his gloved hand in yours. He tugs on your hand, and - taken by surprise - you step toward him.

He places his other hand on your waist, and you put yours on his shoulder. As the music from the merry-go-round tinkles, you find yourself dancing with the clown.

The upstairs bedroom dissolves in a smear of circus colors. You aren't sure where you are. The clown smiles at you, and you can't tell whether it's a friendly smile, or whether he's smirking at you. You can smell his greasepaint. His big floppy shoes tread on your toes as he whirls you around and around. He dances in a jerky, off-balance way, as though he's poking fun at ballroom dancing. But it isn't really very funny.

"No, please," you say faintly. "Let me go." The clown seems not to have heard. He dances faster. You're getting dizzy. But then he does let you go. You stagger backward ... and find that you're not in the bedroom anymore, but in a very, very strange place.

Vague many-colored blobs of light float gently around you on all sides, and there are no shadows here. It's like being trapped inside a great big lava lamp, except that you can hear an off-key brass band oom-pahing not far away. The painted clown from the abandoned nursery, now no longer painted but quite real, is standing in front of you, gazing down at you with either pity or wry amusement (it's hard to tell which).
action: You ask the clown about the clown
response: "Where am I?" you ask the clown. "Who are you? How did I get here? What kind of place is this?"

"That's a lot of questions, little girl. Slow down, now. Take it easy. You're making my poor head spin." The clown holds his head with both hands, as though afraid it's about to fall off, and rocks it back and forth. Then he grins at you lopsidedly. "Who am I? As to that, I wish I could tell you. I'm not sure I'm anybody, and that's the truth. I wouldn't mind being somebody, though, and that's the truth too.

"Who are you, for that matter? Can you tell me that?"

You tell him your name. He nods deeply and soberly, as if that's the most interesting thing he's heard in a week. Come to think of it, maybe it is.

You decide to have another try at learning what's going on. "Who are you? You haven't told me anything."

"Well, I'm a clown, I guess you can probably tell that, can't you?" The clown grins in a way that's not quite reassuring. "You must have seen clowns before. I'm not a real clown, though, only a pretend clown. Well, even being a pretend clown is better than being nothing at all, I suppose. Can you even imagine being nothing at all? I can't. But if there was some way you could help make me into a real person, why, that would be a great big favor, wouldn't it? I'd have to do you a great big favor in return.

"Would you like ... I know: Would you like a gold coin?" Quick as a flash, a big, shiny gold coin appears between the clown's gloved fingers, but a moment later it's gone again.

"I don't have any cards," the clown says apologetically, "so I can't do card tricks. But I can make a coin appear and disappear. If you can bring me something that will make me into a real person, I'll give you that nice coin. But I'll have to think for a minute about what you'd need to bring. Don't rush me, now. Hmm." The clown taps his foot and scratches his chin theatrically.

"All right, I'll tell you what. I need three things. First, if I'm to become a real person, and walk around in the world, I'll need a handkerchief to wipe off this silly clown paint."

"Oh, I'm sure I can find a towel or something to bring," you reply.

But the clown shakes his head gravely. "Oh, no. No ordinary towel would do. To clean my face I'd need a handkerchief that was soaked with a young girl's tears. Only such a thing would do. So that's the first item. The second - I'm not solid flesh and blood like you, I'm just a poor flat painted thing. For me to be able to walk abroad in the world, I'd need some good strong bones for my limbs. The third thing would be something nice to wear, so the people I meet would respect me. I think I'd like to have a coat made of solid jewels. Wouldn't that be grand?

"So that's what you need to bring me - a handkerchief soaked in a young girl's tears, and some bones so I can stand up, and a coat of jewels. In return, I'll give you my gold coin."

It occurs to you to protest that if you had a coat made of jewels, you certainly wouldn't need a gold coin. But the clown seems so sincere, you haven't the heart to point out how absurd his request is.
action: You give the jacket to the clown
response: (first taking the sequined jacket from the burlap sack)
You hold up the sequined jacket you filched from Honey Hartwell's cabin. "Is this the type of coat you're hoping to have?" Secretly you're feeling a little ashamed. If he's fooled into thinking the sequins and rhinestones are real jewels, you'll be lying to him by not telling the truth.

But the clown seems not to notice the deception. Or maybe he doesn't care. He stands back a pace to admire the coat. "Well, would you look at that! That's a marvelous, marvelous garment. Exactly what I was hoping you'd bring. Would you mind if I try it on?"

"I'm not sure it's large enough for you," you reply. But when you hand the jacket to the clown and he struggles into it, miraculously it seems a perfect fit. Perhaps he's not quite as large as he looks - or possibly there's no good explanation for it at all.

The clown struts up and down in the sequined jacket. "Look at me, look at me! Oh, I'm as handsome as Mick Jagger. Now if you'll just bring me some nice strong bones and a special handkerchief to wipe my face, I'll be a real person at last."
action: You go north
response: You take a few uncertain steps, but find that you're getting quite dizzy and a bit nauseous. In spite of yourself, you're drawn irresistibly back to stand next to the clown.
action: Go south
response: You take a few uncertain steps, but find that you're getting quite dizzy and a bit nauseous. In spite of yourself, you're drawn irresistibly back to stand next to the clown.

The blobs of color that are swirling around you and the clown start spinning faster and faster. "Oh, don't go!" cries the clown, reaching out toward you. But you feel yourself being spun away from him.

Suddenly you're back in the abandoned nursery, feeling very dizzy and confused, staring at the painted clown on the wall. The painted clown is not moving. Obviously. He's only painted on the wall. Could the whole thing have been your imagination? Maybe you've been out in the hot sun too long.

This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard.
action: Go downward
response: The stairs squeak unsteadily, a sound that sets your teeth on edge.

The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
action: You go south
response: The big dining room has windows on the east and south and doorways on the north and west. Other than a long dining table and some ill-assorted chairs, the room is bare and featureless. It smells sour, as if food served and eaten here a long time ago still lingers in the plaster of the walls.
action: You ask Luisa about the clown
response: As you start to speak, Luisa scowls at you irritably. "Why don't you go outside and play?"

When you mention the painting of the clown, Luisa stares at the floor and blinks rapidly. "A long time ago, there was a little girl that lived here. That was her bedroom. One time a nice man painted that clown on the wall, so she'd be happy. I guess it worked, for a while anyway. Sometimes I wonder if it isn't cruel to let children be happy. You know what I mean?"

You shake your head. "No, I don't think I do."

Luisa sighs heavily. "Never mind, then. I'm just a silly woman. I just think if we never let them be happy, they wouldn't be so disappointed later, when ... when things don't turn out the way they think. They'd know not to expect nothing good. But you wanted to know about the clown. There's something not quite right about that clown. Sometimes I think he's winking at me. I told you I'm just a silly woman. I don't like to go in there."
action: You ask Luisa about the handkerchief
response: "You ask too many questions," Luisa says. "You want me to tell Mr. Beauregard you're being nosy? Do you?"
action: You ask Luisa about the tears
response: "You're just a chatterbox, ain't you? Why don't you go away an' bother somebody else, eh?"
action: You cry
response: You sniffle a little. It's not proving to be a good day, is it? But feeling sorry for yourself probably isn't going to help.
action: You ask Honey about the handkerchief
response: Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

Honey leafs through the magazine. Either she didn't hear you, or she's pretending she didn't.
action: You go to the south
response: As you walk away, Honey goes back to reading (if that's the right word) her magazine.

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.

As you pass Cabin Four, you notice that its door is standing ajar.
action: Go west
response: The interior of Cabin Four is much like Cabin Five, except that it has a big double bed in place of the twin beds. Also, there's no carpet, just a bare linoleum floor, which is peeling up in the corners. The plaster is water-stained, the wallpaper suffering from minor rips and tears. A gaudy, poorly executed painting of a Southern belle in a hoop skirt fails to add cheer to the room. Tattered curtains hang across the window, which is to the left of the door.

The dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.

Lying on the floor beside the bed is a leather valise.
action: You open the valise
response: The valise is locked.
action: You open the dresser
response: You open the drawers.
action: Close drawers
response: You close the drawers.
action: You examine the painting
response: The woman in the painting looks stiff and unhappy, and the reason isn't hard to see - it's a good bet she's wearing a tight corset underneath that starched pink dress. She's holding a parasol, which leans against her shoulder.
action: You look under the bed
response: Under the bed is a square panel that's not quite flush with the floor. It looks like it might be a trapdoor.
action: Go south
response: The interior of the closet is a dim and cramped little box. It smells powerfully of mold.
action: You go to the north
response: The interior of Cabin Four is much like Cabin Five, except that it has a big double bed in place of the twin beds. Also, there's no carpet, just a bare linoleum floor, which is peeling up in the corners. The plaster is water-stained, the wallpaper suffering from minor rips and tears. A gaudy, poorly executed painting of a Southern belle in a hoop skirt fails to add cheer to the room. Tattered curtains hang across the window, which is to the left of the door.

The dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.

Lying on the floor beside the bed is a leather valise.
action: You move the bed
response: The bed is very heavy, but by throwing your weight into it you're able to push it to one side, uncovering the trapdoor.
action: Go downward
response: This earth-walled chamber is so low you can't stand up straight. There's a square trapdoor in the ceiling; it's standing open. A dark tunnel extends away to the north.
action: You go north
response: It's pitch black.
action: You turn it on
response: You flip the switch, but nothing happens. The batteries are probably dead.
action: You go north
response: It's too dark; you can't see where you're going.
action: Go upwards
response: The interior of Cabin Four is much like Cabin Five, except that it has a big double bed in place of the twin beds. Also, there's no carpet, just a bare linoleum floor, which is peeling up in the corners. The bed has been pushed to one side, revealing a trapdoor set in the floor. The plaster is water-stained, the wallpaper suffering from minor rips and tears. A gaudy, poorly executed painting of a Southern belle in a hoop skirt fails to add cheer to the room. Tattered curtains hang across the window, which is to the left of the door.

The dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.

Lying on the floor beside the bed is a leather valise.
action: You go to the west
response: The tiny, cramped bathroom features a narrow shower stall, a minuscule, rust-stained sink above which is a cracked, flyspecked mirror, and a commode. The towels stacked on the rack are thin, frayed at the edges, and probably none too clean. The small square window is open, but it provides no view and not much light either, as a tree has grown up quite close to the outside wall.

The door to the cabin is in the east wall.
action: Go west
response: From this perch in the midst of the scraggly tree, you can't see much. The area behind the cabins is obscured by foliage. However, you're quite close to the rear wall of Cabin Four, and have a close view of the cabin's bathroom window, which is open.
action: You go to the north
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots, suggesting that at one time the open area might have been used as a croquet court.

You're standing between Cabin Five (to the west) and Cabin Two (to the east). The croquet court continues north and south from here. Further to the north you can see a dusty stretch of lawn beside the house, and some distance to the south are the brackish, unhealthy-looking waters of a swamp.

As you pass Cabin Two, you notice that its door is standing ajar.
action: Go east
response: The interior of this rustic motel room looks pretty much like the interior of Cabin Five, except that it's a mirror image, with the door to the croquet court on the west side. Bedspreads the color of mud cover the twin beds. The tacky wood-grain wallpaper is starting to peel, and years of grime have been ground into the carpet. A murky painting of a Model T Ford fails to add a sporty air.

Curtains the color of old pea soup hang beside the window to the right of the door. A chipped and scarred dresser stands against the east wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room.

On the bed near the door is a Gideon Bible.
action: You examine the painting
response: The Model T Ford looks rather battered and rusty, but possibly that's because of the bits of mold encrusted on the surface of the painting.
action: You open it
response: (first taking the Gideon Bible)
The Bible falls open to a passage that somebody has marked with a yellow highlighter, in which God says strangers who see his holy rites should be put to death. Whoever used the highlighter seems to have been looking for reassurance in all the wrong places.
action: You go to the south
response: As you step into the closet, a floorboard creaks.

The interior of the closet is a dim and cramped little box. It smells powerfully of mold, and the floor is a little wobbly.
action: You go to the east
response: (first opening the bathroom door)

The bathroom is barely big enough to turn around in. There's a narrow shower stall, a minuscule, rust-stained sink above which is a cracked, flyspecked mirror, and a commode. The towels stacked on the rack are thin, frayed at the edges, and probably none too clean. A tiny window provides a very little air.

The door leads westward.
action: You take the floorboard
response: As you pry up the loose floorboard, you find that beneath it is a shallow recess beneath the floor. Lying on its back in the recess is an evil-looking black figurine.
action: You look at the figurine
response: The evil figurine is like the other one you saw - it's about six inches tall, and is carved from a stone so deep red it's almost black. The eyes glint black - and you have the disquieting sensation that they're actually staring at you. The figure's face is contorted with malevolence - the teeth bared, the eyes glaring, the tongue protruding.
action: You take the figurine
response: (first putting the fire tongs in the burlap sack to make room)
As you reach out to touch the black-eyed figurine, you have the momentary sensation that it has lunged at you and snapped at your fingers with its teeth. Obviously, it couldn't actually have moved - could it? But a shaft of intense pain shoots up your arm, and you recoil as quickly as if you had put your hand in an open flame.
action: You take the figurine with tongs
response: You pick up the black-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: You examine the floorboard
response: The board is about four inches wide, a foot long, and more than an inch thick. Though the wood is discolored by age, it feels quite solid.
action: You examine the hole
response: The recessed place beneath the floor is small and dark. It's clotted with old spider webs and littered with disagreeable crumbs.
action: You put the floorboard on the hole
response: You fit the loose floorboard over the hole in the floor.
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 4:00.
action: Go west
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads north, back to cabin two.
action: Go north
response: The interior of this rustic motel room looks pretty much like the interior of Cabin Five, except that it's a mirror image, with the door to the croquet court on the west side. Bedspreads the color of mud cover the twin beds. The tacky wood-grain wallpaper is starting to peel, and years of grime have been ground into the carpet. A murky painting of a Model T Ford fails to add a sporty air.

Curtains the color of old pea soup hang beside the window to the right of the door. A chipped and scarred dresser stands against the east wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room.

On the bed near the door is a Gideon Bible.
action: You set the lock to IXTLOC
response: As you set the valise lock to IXTLOC, you hear a soft but satisfying snick from the mechanism.
action: You open the valise
response: The valise springs open. In the valise is a green-eyed figurine.
action: You examine the green figurine
response: The evil figurine is like the others you've seen - it's about six inches tall, and is carved from a stone so deep red it's almost black. The eyes glint green - and you have the disquieting sensation that they're actually staring at you. The figure's face is contorted with malevolence - the teeth bared, the eyes glaring, the tongue protruding.
action: You take the green figurine with the tongs
response: You pick up the green-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: You put it in the sack
response: (the green-eyed figurine)
Done.
action: You close valise
response: As you close the valise, its latch mechanism snaps firmly.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a croquet hoop, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a sketchbook, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, a poker, a small round threaded object, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, some faded photographs, a stone bracelet, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, and some fire tongs), and a flashlight. You're wearing your clothes.
action: Go east
response: The interior of this rustic motel room looks pretty much like a mirror image of the interior of Cabin Five. Except - not really. Honey Hartwell seems to have arrived like a hurricane. Her possessions are strewn in profusion on every available surface, including the floor. Most of the stuff is clothing, every bit of it gaudy and in terrible taste. In amongst the garb you can also see half a dozen photo magazines devoted to celebrity worship, and the top of the dresser (which stands against the east wall, near the door of the bathroom) is overflowing with cosmetics.

Aside from that, the cabin is unremarkable: the door to the croquet court on the west, a walk-in closet to the south, brown bedspreads on the twin beds, tacky wood-grain wallpaper that's starting to peel, green curtains over the window, and a carpet into which years of grime have been ground. A murky painting of a tired-looking Confederate soldier only contributes to the air of dejection and decay.

Somewhere not far away you hear the sound of a motorboat, getting louder. Shortly it cuts off, and the silence descends again.
action: You examine the curtains
response: The curtains droop sadly.
action: You open the dresser
response: You open the top and middle drawers.
action: You open the bottom drawer
response: The bottom drawer is already open.
action: You go to the east
response: The tiny, cramped bathroom features a narrow shower stall, a minuscule, rust-stained sink above which is an open medicine cabinet, and a commode. The towels stacked on the rack are thin, frayed at the edges, and probably none too clean. A tiny window provides a very little air.

The door leads westward.
action: You look at the cabinet
response: The medicine cabinet has three shallow, narrow, and rather corroded metal shelves. It's open.
action: You look at the cosmetics
response: At least a dozen assorted glittery tubes are scattered across the top of the dresser - eyeliner, eyeshadow, blusher, mascara, hand cream, nail polish, and more.
action: You look at the steps
response: The broad flight of steps leads up to the porch. The planks are badly warped and split, and the gray paint that was applied to them in some remote past is sticking up in thick curling chips.

Honey licks her thumb and turns a page in the magazine.
action: You look at the planks
response: The broad flight of steps leads up to the porch. The planks are badly warped and split, and the gray paint that was applied to them in some remote past is sticking up in thick curling chips.

Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
action: You take the planks
response: You can't take that.

Honey curls a strand of hair around her little finger.
action: Go east
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey licks her thumb and turns a page in the magazine.
action: Break steps
response: Breaking that would serve no purpose.

Honey stretches languidly.
action: You ask Tyrone about van
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

You ask Tyrone what he's doing with the van. "Oh, somethin' or other's always goin' wrong with it," he says obscurely. "Carburetor, most likely. I'll have it fixed up by tomorrow, time these folks is ready to leave."
action: You ask Tyrone about the suv
response: When you ask Tyrone where the big black SUV went, that you saw parked in the driveway earlier, his eyes cloud over, and he turns away without answering.
action: You go to the south-east
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, to the kitchen; south, to the area behind the cabins; east, to the north end of the croquet court; west; northeast, back to the lawn; northwest, to the gravel driveway; southwest, to the garden of junk; and in, to in the van.
action: You go to the east
response: The path meanders eastward along the shore of the swamp. Shortly the shore curves away southward, and you find yourself in a broad meadow.

A few trees, tall and old but gnarled, reach up out of the long grass of this meadow like grasping bony fingers, tattered streamers of moss and vine trailing from their crooked branches. The meadow is bordered on the south by the swamp and on the north by an intimidating barbed-wire fence, and continues for some distance to the east. The path along the edge of the swamp runs westward from here.

Standing in the center of the meadow is a large, rough block of black stone.

The ghost of Lydia hovers near the stone block.
action: You ask Lydia about the clown
response: She's looking off pensively toward the swamp. She seems not to have heard you.
action: You ask Lydia about the tears
response: "I forget things," she says. "I think I might know something about that, only now I can't remember."
action: You show the bracelet to Lydia
response: (first taking the stone bracelet from the burlap sack)
She gazes sadly at your offering. "That's very nice, I'm sure."
action: You show the black figurine to Lydia
response: When Lydia sees the evil figurine, she shrieks and flies around the meadow like a whirlwind. "Oh, get it away from me, get it away from me!"
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a croquet hoop, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a sketchbook, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, a poker, a small round threaded object, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, and some fire tongs), a flashlight, and a stone bracelet. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You show the sketchbook to Lydia
response: (first taking the sketchbook from the burlap sack)
"Is it a hot day today?" she says, gazing off into the distance. "It looks like it's a hot day, but I can never tell."
action: You read it
response: (first taking the mystery by John Dickson Carr from the burlap sack) Boh-rring. this would put you to sleep for sure. Looks like Beauregard enjoys boring old mysteries as much as your aunt does.
action: You ask Lydia about the figurines
response: Lydia shudders. "They're hateful - hateful! They're what summons the - the - I can't even make myself say it."
action: You show the object to Lydia
response: (first taking the small round threaded object from the burlap sack)
"I hope you find a good use for that," she says.
action: You show the bracelet to Lydia
response: "I don't have much use for things," she says. "In case you hadn't noticed."
action: You show the figurine to Lydia
response: Which figurine do you mean, the green-eyed figurine, or the black-eyed figurine?
action: You go west
response: As you walk away, the ghost calls after you in a breathy voice: "I hope you'll come back and visit me."

You follow the path westward, back to Eternal Springs.

The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.

You find yourself wanting to hurry along, so as not to catch another glimpse, even out of the corner of your eye, of the terrible swamp-thing you saw - or imagined you saw - before.
action: You show the object to Tyrone
response: (first taking the small round threaded object from the burlap sack) "Well, lookee there," Tyrone says when you show him the small threaded object. "You know what that is, don't you? Guess maybe not. Where you come from, I reckon they all got circuit breakers an' such. That there's a fuse. You put it in a fuse box. Circuit overloads, the fuse burns out, electricity stops, your house don't burn down. Then you just put in a new fuse. Stove up to the house there always burnin' out fuses. Luisa told me it done it again, but I ain't got around to fixin' it yet. Fuse box is in the upstairs bedroom. Why don't you take care of it for me, honey, seein' as you got the fuse already."
action: Go north
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

On the stove is a tea kettle.
action: You go to the west
response: The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

On the stove is a tea kettle.
action: You open the cupboard
response: Opening the cupboard reveals a juice glass, a stained blue mug, a brown envelope, and a teaspoon.
action: You look at the envelope
response: The brown envelope says "Cocoa Mix" on both sides.
action: You open the fridge
response: Opening the refrigerator reveals an egg.
action: You examine the egg
response: It's an ordinary egg. When you touch it it doesn't seem very cold. Apparently the refrigerator isn't working.
action: Go up
response: The stairs squeak unsteadily, a sound that sets your teeth on edge.

This stuffy passageway extends westward from the head of the stairs, which lead down to the entry hall. The wallpaper is blotchy, and the residual grime along the baseboard suggests that the housekeeping has been perfunctory at best. There are doorways in the north and south walls.
action: You go north
response: This stark bedroom seems to be a repository for cast-off furniture, some of which probably dates back to the Civil War. The bedstead has an iron frame, but no mattress. The door back to the hall is to the south, and an open doorway leads west into a closet. In the north wall is a window.

A crow is perched on the windowsill, looking around the room.
action: Close window
response: You shut the window, blocking out the alleged breeze.

The crow fluffs his feathers.
action: You take the crow
response: The crow sidles away from you rapidly.
action: You show the black figurine to the crow
response: The crow does not appear interested.

The crow hops down from the sill to check the floor, sees nothing that would interest him, and hops back up.
action: You hit the spider with the poker
response: (first putting the flashlight in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the mystery by John Dickson Carr in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the croquet hoop in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the poker from the burlap sack)
On a normal day, you might be able to grit your teeth and force yourself to do something with (or to) the spider. But you're feeling pretty nervous today. You just can't quite bring yourself to get that close to it.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, and a croquet hoop), a new fuse, some fire tongs, and a poker. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You look at the fuse box
response: Behind the little metal door is a shallow recess. What lies within is largely obscured by a heavy curtain of spiderweb. Within the web a fat white spider is busily spinning.
action: Go down
response: The stairs creak a bit as you descend.

The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
action: You open the stove
response: Opening the oven reveals a piece of burnt toast.
action: You take the toast
response: (first putting the fire tongs in the burlap sack to make room)
Taken.
action: Crumble toast
response: You crumble up a portion of the toast and scatter the crumbs on the floor.

When the crow sees the breadcrumbs you've scattered, he hops down from the windowsill and starts pecking at them.
action: Crumble toast
response: You crumble up a portion of the toast and scatter the crumbs on the floor.

The crow appears at the door of the closet. It's a confined space, but he seems quite fearless. He struts in and starts pecking for crumbs around your feet.
action: You wait a while
response: Time passes...

The crow catches sight of the fat white spider! He makes a quick dive at the fuse box and snaps it up in his beak. A quick head-toss, and the spider is no more. Evidently feeling satiated, the crow saunters stiffly out of the closet, hops up to the windowsill, and flies away.
action: Clean box
response: You brush away the spiderweb, revealing two vertical columns of glass circles with three circles in each column.
action: You put fuse in the box
response: There's no room in the box for anything at all, but that dark circle looks as if it doesn't belong. You might be able to remove it.
action: You look at it
response: The fuse is threaded, like the base of a lightbulb without the bulb. The flat glass circle on the top of the fuse is dark, as if something inside has burned.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, and some fire tongs), a poker, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, and a bad fuse. You're wearing your clothes.
action: PUT POKER, TOAST, BAD FUSE IN SACK
response: poker: Done.
partially crumbled piece of burnt toast: Done.
bad fuse: Done.
action: You go east
response: This stark bedroom seems to be a repository for cast-off furniture, some of which probably dates back to the Civil War. The bedstead has an iron frame, but no mattress. The door back to the hall is to the south, and an open doorway leads west into a closet. In the north wall is a window.

You see some toast crumbs here.
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 4:15.
action: You go west
response: (first opening the door)

This flimsy wooden platform overlooks the cellar. Stairs lead downward to the west, and there's a door to the east.
action: You ask Tyrone about the batteries
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

You ask Tyrone whether he might know where there are some fresh batteries for the flashlight. He presses his lips together, looking exasperated - but at himself, not at you. "I was supposed to pick some up, you know, yesterday when I was in town, but I plumb forgot. Sorry, honey."
action: Go southeast
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, to the kitchen; south, to the area behind the cabins; east, to the north end of the croquet court; west; northeast, to the lawn; northwest, back to the gravel driveway; southwest, to the garden of junk; and in, to in the van.
action: You go east
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
action: Go east
response: (first opening the door of Cabin Three)
You tap politely on the door of Cabin Three, and a low voice from within bids you enter.

The interior of this rustic motel room looks pretty much like the interior of Cabin Five, except that it's a mirror image, with the door to the croquet court on the west side. Bedspreads the color of mud cover the twin beds. The tacky wood-grain wallpaper is starting to peel, and years of grime have been ground into the carpet. A bucolic, sentimentalized painting of some Negroes picking cotton adds to the oppressive sense that you've somehow slipped back into an earlier, less civilized era.

Curtains the color of old pea soup hang beside the window to the right of the door. A chipped and scarred dresser stands against the east wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room.

A man is sitting in a wheelchair at the foot of one of the beds. As you enter, he looks at you sharply from under lowered eyebrows. "So," he says in a soft voice. "You're to be the one. I was hoping - well, never mind."

He smiles at you in a sad, sweet way. "My name is David," he says.
You tell him your name is Diane, but he waves the information away. "Yes, I know," he says. "I wish I didn't. That might make it easier - a little easier, anyhow." He sighs. "Do you know why your aunt brought you here? No, of course you don't. If you knew, you'd - well, you wouldn't be standing here exchanging polite chitchat with me, I'm very certain."
action: You look at David
response: David is sitting in a wheelchair, his shoulders hunched forward. Although the day is hot, a thin blanket is spread across his lap and wrapped around his legs. His complexion is waxy, his hair brown and wispy. He seems to be no older than thirty or thirty-five, but the lines of pain etched in his face make him look like an old man. Occasionally his bony hands twitch at the blanket, as though he yearns to toss it aside and stand up - but then the hands fall slack again.
action: You examine the wheelchair
response: David's wheelchair is made of metal and black leather. The wheels are rubber.
action: You ask David about the wheelchair
response: David closes his eyes, and his hands twitch on the blanket that covers his knees. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I don't believe I caught that."
action: You ask David about himself
response: David presses his lips together. "Me? I'm not really very interesting. I taught college at one time. And I was married, to a woman far more beautiful and charming than I deserved. After I fell ill, she - felt that she needed more out of life than I was able to provide. We're no longer married, but I've forgiven her. At least, I hope I have. She was quite right to move on. In another year or two, unless some miracle should intervene, I'll no longer be able to care for even my most basic needs. A young, vibrant woman has no business sacrificing her entire life in order to see to the care of a helpless invalid."
action: You ask David about the picnic
response: David is silent for so long, his eyes closed, that you start to wonder whether you ought to tiptoe away and stop pestering him. But then the watery gray eyes open and fix on your face. "I expect what you're really wondering," he says, "is why your aunt brought you here. Your aunt - your aunt doesn't have your best interests at heart, let's put it that way. Unless you're able to escape from this place within the next hour or two, I fear the consequences will be dire. Have you looked around? Have you seen the stone block that stands in the field near the southern extremity of the property? If you have, I need say no more. If you haven't, I urge you to go look at it. It's no mere archaeological relic; it has an exigent use."
action: You ask David about the ghost
response: When you tell David about the ghost you met in the meadow, he sighs. "Yes, of course there would have been others. Many others, I'm sure. Why one of the victims should have remained attached to this rather depressing spot, I'm sure I couldn't begin to guess. But since you and she have something in common, perhaps you'll be able to establish some sort of rapport with her. Not that it will do you any good."
action: You ask David about the eternal Springs
response: You ask David what he thinks of Eternal Springs. He laughs. "It's not a very nice motel, is it? None of us came here for the ambience, I can assure you."
action: You ask David about Phelps
response: "Our esteemed host," David says. He sounds a little sarcastic, and a little sad. "Don't underestimate him. He's incredibly dangerous, as powerful men so often are. I'd suggest you stay well away from him unless making an approach is absolutely essential."
action: You ask David about the demon
response: "It's a...." David pauses for so long, his chin sunk on his chest, that you begin to wonder whether he's fallen asleep. But at last he rouses himself. "I daresay I'm being disloyal, and I'm quite certain I shall regret this, one way or another. But I can't help thinking you deserve some explanation. Not that it will do any good. The course of events is quite unalterable.

"This was all Indian land at one time, you know. Five hundred years ago, the empire of the Aztecs stretched this far north. I don't want to paint all Native Americans as bloodthirsty savages, certainly, but the current popular conception of them as being somehow noble and wise because they were in close touch with nature may be no more than a fond romanticization - a version of the perennially popular Myth of the Golden Age. The reality, I should imagine, is that Native Americans in those days were no better than we are, and no worse. Whatever one may prefer to believe of the Iroquois or the Navajo, the Aztecs, I'm bound to say, were not the sort of people we should describe as pleasant, good-natured, or nice.

"Through the application of what we should describe as black magic, the Aztec priests aroused certain evil entities - entities of great power. These demons, to use the modern term, were capable of granting any wish that might lodge in the human heart, any wish at all, if only they were allowed to gorge on an offering of fresh heart blood." David shudders, and goes on.

"I'm sure you find this difficult to credit. As I did, at first. But at a certain point, I became utterly convinced: At least one of these entities still roams the world. Perhaps more than one, if we're to judge from recent history. At all events, there is one. The stone block at the southeastern extremity of Eternal Springs is its altar. Periodically, the local priest - I believe you must have met him, he's the fat old man who operates this alleged motor court - makes an offering to the demon. On that block.

"Or so I've been told. You'll understand that I haven't yet been out to see it myself. The path is rather bumpy for someone whose mobility is limited. I expect they'll wheel me out there tonight as sunset nears. But where was I?

"The demon has it in his power to grant the dearest wish of each person who is present at the ceremony. Invitations of a sort are sent out into the world, in the form of small carved figurines, or statuettes. They're images of the demon. They wander the world and somehow find their way into the hands of individuals who have an unusually fervent desire. On this occasion, I'm one of those people. I'm sure you can guess the nature of my desire." He gestures at his useless legs. "Through one means or another, we're drawn here when the time for a fresh sacrifice is near."
action: You ask David about the house
response: David looks at you uncertainly. "I'm not sure I know what to tell you."
action: You ask David about Tyrone
response: "You mean the black hired man," David says, nodding. "At first I thought he must be part of Beauregard's little cabal. He was brusque, almost hostile. But when he helped me to my cabin he was very gentle and considerate. I don't know quite what to make of him."
action: You ask David about swamp
response: David sighs. He seems not to have heard you. More or less to himself, he says, "I know it's a hot day, but I feel the cold in my bones."
action: You ask David about the figurine
response: "The figurines ... ah, yes. Nasty little things, aren't they? You've seen one, I take it? If not, I'll show you one in just a moment." David frowns at his knees. He looks so sad you want to hug him, but you don't.

"They have some sort of magical linkage," he says, "to the actual demon to whom the sacrifice is to be made. They make their way out into the world somehow - I have no idea how, but I do believe they're not quite as inert as they may appear - and attach themselves to certain individuals who are predisposed to want what they have to offer, as I explained to you earlier.

"Once the attachment is formed, no one else can touch the figurine. It's quite impossible. I have one here ... if you'll just fetch my suitcase from the closet...." He points, and you fetch the suitcase.
He sets it on his lap, unsnaps the latch, and draws out a hideous little carved statue, so deep red it's almost black, with white eyes that sparkle like diamonds or chips of ice. You have the disturbing sense that the little eyes are actually looking at you.

David strokes the statue with a kind of reluctant fondness. "I'm torn, you see. On the one hand, I'd rather anything happen than what is to happen this evening. Please believe that. On the other hand ... to be able to walk again, to make love ... well, perhaps that doesn't mean much to you. How old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?" He sighs. "Your whole life ahead of you."

He pauses again, as if thinking. "I'll tell you what I'll do. I won't take any action myself to stop it. I've come too far. I'm committed. And in any event, if I were to interpose objections at this late stage, I'm quite sure I would be ignored. If not worse. But if you can discover for yourself a way to escape your fate, and if there's anything I can do to aid you, you have only to ask. I can do that much. Perhaps I'm only indulging in a sop to my conscience; I don't expect you'll have the slightest chance to evade what's to come. But if you're clever enough to do so, I won't stand in your way."

He tucks the repellent figurine away in the suitcase again, and closes the suitcase.
action: You look
response: The interior of this rustic motel room looks pretty much like the interior of Cabin Five, except that it's a mirror image, with the door to the croquet court on the west side. Bedspreads the color of mud cover the twin beds. The tacky wood-grain wallpaper is starting to peel, and years of grime have been ground into the carpet. A bucolic, sentimentalized painting of some Negroes picking cotton adds to the oppressive sense that you've somehow slipped back into an earlier, less civilized era.

Curtains the color of old pea soup hang beside the window to the right of the door. A chipped and scarred dresser stands against the east wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room.

David is sitting here in his wheelchair.
action: You look at the suitcase
response: David's suitcase is large, brown, and scuffed.
action: You open it
response: That is not something you can open.

"I'm feeling a bit tired," David says. "If you'll forgive me, I may want to close my eyes for a minute or two."
action: You open the suitcase
response: David refuses your request.
action: You show the bracelet to David
response: (first taking the stone bracelet from the burlap sack)
David does not appear interested.
action: You show the sketchbook to David
response: (first taking the sketchbook from the burlap sack)
You show David the thick book of drawings. He leafs through it idly before handing it back. "You can see what you're up against," he says. "Those will be copies of carvings found at various sites. I'm no archaeologist, but from certain details in the designs, I'd think the sites would be in Central America. That region has a long and bloody history. As does the rest of the world, of course. Have you ever really read the Bible? It's full of the most horrific carnage, most of it sanctioned by God, or by whatever entity the Hebrews thought was God. One is inclined to wonder...."
action: You ask David about the legs
response: You hesitate to keep pestering David with conversation. He looks tired.
action: You tell David about Hank
response: Hesitantly, you bring up what you saw, or rather heard, in the cabin just across the way. David listens to your story, his face grave. "I believe I heard the shot," he says. "That's what woke me from my nap. This is very bad, far worse than I had feared. They'll stop at nothing." As if to himself, he adds, "Well, I knew that already, didn't I?

"And you say they took the body out in a boat to dispose of it? Hmm. While they're gone from the motel you might want to nose around in their cabins. Far be it from me to recommend thievery, but these people have certainly lost any claim they might have had to expect civil treatment."
action: You ask David about the handkerchief
response: David closes his eyes, and his hands twitch on the blanket that covers his knees. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I don't believe I caught that."
action: You cry
response: You sniffle a little. It's not proving to be a good day, is it? But feeling sorry for yourself probably isn't going to help.
action: You show the photographs to David
response: (first taking the faded photographs from the burlap sack)
David does not appear interested.
action: You show the locket to David
response: (first taking the gold locket from the burlap sack)
David does not appear interested.
action: Locket in sack
response: faded photographs: Done.
gold locket: Done.
action: You ask David about God
response: "Don't get me started," David says with a gentle laugh. "There may after all turn out to be a God - I'm certainly not qualified to say - but the evidence of His involvement in or concern with human affairs is tenuous at best. The evidence for less benign sorts of supernatural involvement is, I fear, far better."
action: You ask David about Honey
response: You tell David what little you've been able to learn about Honey Hartwell - that she's an aspiring singer from Nashville. "Not that I want to be critical," you add, "but I don't think she sings very well."

"Ah, well," he says. "It's not difficult to infer that her only hope of stardom lies in ... what's to happen here today. Another talentless wretch who yearns not to be chewed up and spit out by the maw of the entertainment industry. If you're looking for evidence of demonic workings in human affairs, I daresay the popular music business wouldn't be a bad place to start."
action: You ask David about Reverend
response: You describe Reverend Gillespie to David. "He seems a little ... slimy," you finish, not wanting to seem too critical but also wanting to be honest with the one person around here who seems worth talking to.

David listens sympathetically. "I haven't met the man," he says. "I wish I could say I'm surprised to learn that a so-called 'man of God' is involved in a ritual of the sort that Beauregard intends to preside at today, but I'm not."
action: You ask David about the aunt caroline
response: You chat with David about your life in New York, living with your neurotic aunt in a small apartment. He listens in an abstracted way, and murmurs a few polite responses. The more you tell him, the sadder he looks, so after a few minutes you fall silent.
action: You give the book to David
response: (the sketchbook)
You show David the thick book of drawings. He leafs through it idly before handing it back. "You can see what you're up against," he says. "Those will be copies of carvings found at various sites. I'm no archaeologist, but from certain details in the designs, I'd think the sites would be in Central America. That region has a long and bloody history. As does the rest of the world, of course. Have you ever really read the Bible? It's full of the most horrific carnage, most of it sanctioned by God, or by whatever entity the Hebrews thought was God. One is inclined to wonder...."
action: You give Carr to David
response: (first taking the mystery by John Dickson Carr from the burlap sack) David looks at you with a kind of cloudy intensity. "There's nothing that I want or need. At least, nothing that you have ... other than your youth and vitality, of course, but we won't talk about that."
action: You put the book and Carr in the sack
response: Which book do you mean, the mystery by John Dickson Carr, or the sketchbook?
action: Sketchbook
response: sketchbook: Done.
mystery by John Dickson Carr: Done.
action: You go west
response: "You can leave the door open if you like," David says behind you. "I don't mind the fresh air."

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Six (to the west) and Cabin Three (to the east). The croquet court continues north from here. To the south, a little slope ends at the watery edge of a swamp, and a path to the southwest leads toward a good-sized shed that stands at the edge of the water.
action: Go west
response: Cabin Six is a lot like Cabin Five. Twin beds with ugly brown bedspreads haphazardly made up, water-stained plaster and peeling wallpaper, a grimy carpet. A faded painting of a flop-eared hound dog entirely fails to add cheer to the room. Tattered curtains hang across the window, which is to the left of the door.

The dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.

There's a small pool of blood in the middle of the floor.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, an old shovel, a gold locket, and some faded photographs), the key to Cabin One, a pill bottle, a little white pill, a croquet hoop, a wooden bucket, and an indecipherable map. You're wearing your clothes.
action: Go south
response: The interior of the shed is bathed in shifting light. Watery reflections spill through the big door to the south, which has been raised. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. A small rowboat is tied up to the right of the dock.

A narrow catwalk runs along the west wall, to the southwest from where you're standing. At the end of the catwalk is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof.

The far wall of the shed is a large door through which the boats must be meant to pass in and out. At the moment the door is standing wide open.
action: You examine rowboat
response: The rowboat is barely big enough for two people to sit in. It looks old, battered, and more than a little banged-up.
action: You look in it
response: (first trying to go over to the rowboat)
The rowboat is too far away.
action: You enter the rowboat
response: The rowboat is too far away.
action: You go to the south
response: As you start in that direction, suddenly the rowboat and the dock erupt in boiling gouts of flame. The heat beats against your face, and you cover your face with your hands and stagger backward. Bitter smoke fills your nostrils, and even through your hands and eyelids you can see the seething flames.

But then the heat is gone, the blood-red light recedes. When you open your eyes, the shed hasn't been consumed by fire. The rowboat rocks serenely in the water, just as it did before.
action: Go southwest
response: As you start in that direction, suddenly the interior of the shed goes pitch dark - or have you been struck blind? You pause, not wanting to step off the edge into the water. And then you feel things crawling on you. At first it's only a vague itch, but a moment later huge bugs are in your clothes, on your face, in your mouth. You try to brush them off, scrape them off, slap them away, but it doesn't seem to be working.

As you writhe in terror, somehow you bump against the door of the shed. Its physical solidity dissolves the nightmare. You can see. There aren't any bugs, only the boats and the dock and the water.
action: You examine the chain
response: Which chain do you mean, the gold locket, or the drum-shaped mechanism?
action: Drum
response: The drum-shaped mechanism is out at the southwest end of the catwalk.
action: You examine the catwalk
response: The catwalk is a narrow strip of planking that runs along the west side of the shed. At the far end of the catwalk is a drum-shaped mechanism.
action: You look at the door
response: Which door do you mean, the big door, or the boat shed door?
action: You look at the big door
response: The big door at the south end of the shed is made of horizontal metal strips, probably aluminum. An overhead track suggests that the door can be rolled up to allow boats to go in and out - and indeed, there's a drum-shaped mechanism at the south end of the catwalk from which a chain extends up and back along the track.
action: You go north
response: A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built. The door is standing wide open.

You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.
action: You go east
response: The screen door screeches metallically as you open it.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.
action: You close the screen door
response: The screen door closes itself, and in such hot weather there's no need to close the main front door. That would only make the house unbearably stuffy.
action: Go south
response: Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.

As you pass Cabin Four, you notice that its door is standing ajar.
action: You take the figurine
response: As you reach out to touch the green-eyed figurine, you have the momentary sensation that it has lunged at you and snapped at your fingers with its teeth. Obviously, it couldn't actually have moved - could it? But a shaft of intense pain shoots up your arm, and you recoil as quickly as if you had put your hand in an open flame.
action: You take the figurine with the tongs
response: You pick up the green-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: Go south
response: As you start in that direction, suddenly it seems to you the whole shed is crawling with snakes - hundreds of them writhing over one another. The snakes are a carpet that covers the dock, the catwalk, the rowboat. They're boiling out of the water, hissing, their heads swaying as their red-black beady eyes fix on you. You scream and stagger back toward the door.

A moment later the snakes are gone. You can't quite believe it, though: You look around nervously, and see no snakes, nor any other menace.
action: Go southwest
response: As you start in that direction, suddenly you have the terrifying sensation that the room is entirely filled with green water. You don't seem to be able to move your limbs, and you can't breathe. It's as if the water has filled your mouth and nose - you can taste and smell its rotten reek. Indistinct shapes swim toward you, toothless mouths open to suck your juices out.

With a convulsive effort you take a step backward toward the door, another step. And then the underwater nightmare is gone. You suck in a deep, uneven breath.
action: You go to the southwest
response: As you start in that direction, suddenly half a dozen human skeletons rise up out of the water, grinning. No, a dozen of them. No, twenty. The skeletons stalk toward you, brandishing long sharp knives! You lurch away from them, and lose your footing and nearly fall into the water. You scramble backward toward the door, whimpering, crying, "No, no, please...."

With a dry clacking sound like sticks falling in a heap, the skeletons and their wicked knives vanish. The interior of the shed is peaceful again.
action: You close the boat door
response: Your first impulse is to close the boat shed door so as to have a little privacy, but then it occurs to you that if you do that, somebody might come along and lock it - and then you'd be trapped! No, better leave it open.
action: You remove the shelves
response: Careful not to make any loud thumping noises, you lift the shelves off of the brackets and lean them in a corner. The onions and rat droppings slide off. Now it's possible to get at the hatch.
action: You open hatch
response: You open the hatch, revealing a box-shaped cavity built into the wall.
action: You examine the cavity
response: The interior of the box is so small that a person your size could barely fit into it - maybe - by curling up in a ball. A grown-up would never be able to. The dust and cobwebs are thick, but fortunately there don't seem to be any spiders.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket and a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, some fire tongs, a poker, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, and a bad fuse). You're wearing your clothes.
action: You enter the box
response: You're curled nearly double in a cramped wooden box in half-darkness.
A sturdy length of rope is hanging vertically here, so close to your face you could scratch your nose against it if your nose itched. And that might be easier than scratching your nose any other way, because there's barely room here to move your arms. A small but sturdy-looking iron hook protrudes from the wall right next to your cheek.
action: You pull the rope
response: You grasp the rope firmly in both hands and pull, and the box in which you're confined rises, foot by swaying foot, up the shaft in which it's suspended. It appears the box is an old-fashioned dumbwaiter. In a few moments you're at the top of the shaft, in near-darkness broken only by a faint line of light that traces the shape of a hatch door like the one in the pantry below.
action: You examine hook
response: The iron hook protrudes several inches from the wall of the box, making the already cramped space seem almost like a torture chamber.
action: You tie the rope to the hook
response: You wrap the rope several times around the iron hook. It isn't much of a knot, but maybe it will hold.
action: Go outside
response: The furnishings in the bedroom are about what you'd expect - a rumpled bed whose sour odor permeates the room and a dresser with a scatter of stuff on top. There's a wide archway to the east and an imposing-looking door in the north wall. The square hatch by which you first entered the room is set into the east wall at the northeast corner.
action: You look under the bed
response: You have a peek under the bed. Nope - nothing interesting under there, just sagging springs.
action: You examine the dresser
response: The chipped, warped chest of drawers looks like it's about a hundred years old, and has been rejected as junk by every antique shop in the state of Mississippi. It stands against the west wall - crookedly, because one front leg is visibly shorter than the other. The top is littered with a scatter of stuff.
action: You look at the stuff
response: The stuff on the dresser is about what you'd expect - a couple of hairbrushes full of greasy gray hair and dandruff, a chipped saucer with some paper clips and thumbtacks in it, and some pecan shells. Among the clutter you spot a stubby screwdriver. Now that might come in handy.
action: You open the door
response: (first unlocking the door)
It occurs to you that nobody knows you're snooping in Beauregard Phelps's bedroom. And maybe that's just as well. Before throwing the door open, it would be sensible to take a quick look through the peephole and make sure the coast is clear.
action: You look through the peephole
response: Through the peephole you can see Luisa standing at her ironing board, ironing.
action: You go east
response: This narrow, windowless room is lit only by the daylight that spills through the open doorway to the west, which leads back to the bedroom. A narrow table stands against the north wall, and at the foot of the table, in the east wall, a metal grate is set in the baseboard.

In the east wall, where you might ordinarily expect to see a door to another room, is a massive slab of stone, both broader and higher than a door. In the upper center of the slab is a circular carving.

On the shallow table are a curved dagger and a purple-eyed figurine.
action: You examine the dagger
response: The dagger has a wicked-looking slim, curved blade nearly a foot long, and a black leather hilt.
action: You examine the purple
response: The evil figurine is like the others you've seen - it's about six inches tall, and is carved from a stone so deep red it's almost black. The eyes glint purple - and you have the disquieting sensation that they're actually staring at you. The figure's face is contorted with malevolence - the teeth bared, the eyes glaring, the tongue protruding.
action: You look at the carving
response: The design of the ornate circular carving is made up of seven or eight intertwining rattlesnakes, all of them baring their fangs. Within the loops formed by the snakes' coils are symbols that look like letters. The letters remind you of the markings on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room.
action: You examine the grate
response: The grate is a metal grill with a cross-hatch of sturdy wires, which are stained dark by years of smoky furnace fumes. The grate is mounted in the baseboard of the east wall, down near the floor between the slab and the table, and is held in place by a couple of metal screws.
action: Unscrew grate
response: You loosen the screws with the screwdriver and rotate the grate away from the opening in the wall.
action: You look at opening
response: The grate is a metal grill with a cross-hatch of sturdy wires, which are stained dark by years of smoky furnace fumes. The grate is mounted in the baseboard of the east wall, down near the floor between the slab and the table, and is held in place by a couple of metal screws, which have been loosened, allowing the grate to be rotated outward.
action: You enter it
response: The opening is too small for you to squeeze through it.
action: You open grate
response: The grate is already open.
action: Go west
response: The furnishings in the bedroom are about what you'd expect - a rumpled bed whose sour odor permeates the room and a dresser with a scatter of stuff on top. There's a wide archway to the east and an imposing-looking door in the north wall. The square hatch by which you first entered the room is set into the east wall at the northeast corner.
action: You untie the rope
response: You unwrap the rope from around the hook.
action: You go downward
response: As you let the rope play out upward, the box wobbles its way down the shaft.
action: Leave
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, a wooden bucket, and a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, some fire tongs, a poker, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, and a bad fuse) here.
action: You take the bucket and the sack
response: wooden bucket: Taken.
burlap sack: Taken.
action: Go south
response: The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

On the stove is a tea kettle.
action: You examine the opening
response: The heating grate is set in the baseboard in the west wall of the room. It's about a foot high and two feet wide, and is covered with a metal grill, which is stained by years of smoky furnace fumes. It's held in place by a couple of heavy metal screws, which have been loosened to allow the grate to be rotated outward.
action: You enter grate
response: The opening is too small for you to squeeze through it.
action: You look
response: This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard.

The keyhole in the base of the merry-go-round contains an old-fashioned brass key.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying a screwdriver, a wooden bucket, and a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, some fire tongs, a poker, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, and a bad fuse). You're wearing your clothes.
action: You put all in the grate
response: screwdriver: You push the screwdriver through the grate.

wooden bucket: The wooden bucket is too large to fit through the opening.

burlap sack: The burlap sack is too large to fit through the opening.

old-fashioned brass key:
(first taking the old-fashioned brass key)
You push the old-fashioned brass key through the grate.
action: You put bracelet in the grate
response: (first taking the stone bracelet from the burlap sack)
You push the stone bracelet through the grate.
action: You put the tongs in the grate
response: (first taking the fire tongs from the burlap sack)
The fire tongs are too large to fit through the opening.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying a screwdriver, a wooden bucket, and a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a poker, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, and some fire tongs). You're wearing your clothes.
action: You go north
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings and some onions here.
action: You drop all
response: screwdriver: Dropped.
wooden bucket: Dropped.
burlap sack: Dropped.
action: You enter door
response: (the hatch)

You're curled nearly double in a cramped wooden box in half-darkness.
A sturdy length of rope is hanging vertically here, so close to your face you could scratch your nose against it if your nose itched. And that might be easier than scratching your nose any other way, because there's barely room here to move your arms. A small but sturdy-looking iron hook protrudes from the wall right next to your cheek.
action: You pull the rope
response: You grasp the rope firmly in both hands and pull, and the box in which you're confined rises, foot by swaying foot, up the shaft in which it's suspended. In a few moments you're at the top of the shaft, in near-darkness broken only by a faint line of light that traces the shape of a hatch door like the one in the pantry below.
action: Go outside
response: (first opening the hatch door)

The furnishings in the bedroom are about what you'd expect - a rumpled bed whose sour odor permeates the room and a dresser with a scatter of stuff on top. There's a wide archway to the east and an imposing-looking door in the north wall. The square hatch by which you first entered the room is set into the east wall at the northeast corner.
action: You go to the east
response: This narrow, windowless room is lit only by the daylight that spills through the open doorway to the west, which leads back to the bedroom. A narrow table stands against the north wall, and at the foot of the table, in the east wall, a metal grate is set in the baseboard.

In the east wall, where you might ordinarily expect to see a door to another room, is a massive slab of stone, both broader and higher than a door. In the upper center of the slab is a circular carving.

You see a stone bracelet here. On the shallow table are a curved dagger and a purple-eyed figurine.
action: You examine slab
response: The gray stone slab is set in the east wall like a door, but it's both taller and wider than a typical door, and there's certainly no doorknob. Set in the face of the slab is an ornate circular carving.
action: You open slab
response: You push and prod at the slab, but it's unyielding.
action: You take the purple
response: As you reach toward the figurine, the dagger rises into the air, guided by no hand that you can see, and slashes at your face! You back away quickly.
action: You take the dagger
response: It would slice your fingers to ribbons!

The dagger slashes and jabs at you, dancing and swooping and slashing in midair.
action: You examine the dagger
response: The dagger has a wicked-looking slim, curved blade nearly a foot long, and a black leather hilt. The dagger is dating and zigzagging at you in the air, jabbing at your face. It's all you can do to duck, dodge, and twist out of its murderous path.
action: Go west
response: The furnishings in the bedroom are about what you'd expect - a rumpled bed whose sour odor permeates the room and a dresser with a scatter of stuff on top. There's a wide archway to the east and an imposing-looking door in the north wall. The square hatch by which you first entered the room is set into the east wall at the northeast corner.
action: Go east
response: This narrow, windowless room is lit only by the daylight that spills through the open doorway to the west, which leads back to the bedroom. A narrow table stands against the north wall, and at the foot of the table, in the east wall, a metal grate is set in the baseboard.

In the east wall, where you might ordinarily expect to see a door to another room, is a massive slab of stone, both broader and higher than a door. In the upper center of the slab is a circular carving.

On the shallow table are a purple-eyed figurine and a curved dagger.
action: You examine the dagger
response: The dagger has a wicked-looking slim, curved blade nearly a foot long, and a black leather hilt.
action: You take the dagger
response: As you reach out to pick up the dagger, it scoots away from you! A moment later, quivering, it's airborne. Guided by no hand that you can see, the dagger swoops straight at your face!
action: Examine bracelet
response: The bracelet is made of irregular chunks of gray-white stone about the size of marbles. Each stone is incised with a symbol of some sort.
The symbols look vaguely like the letters on the carving on the stone slab in Beauregard Phelps's bedroom.
action: You examine the carving
response: The design of the ornate circular carving is made up of seven or eight intertwining rattlesnakes, all of them baring their fangs. Within the loops formed by the snakes' coils are symbols that look like letters. The letters look exactly like the markings on the stone bracelet you found in the dining room.
action: You look at the table
response: The scarred old wooden table is both taller and shallower than a normal table - about four feet high and no more than a foot deep. On the shallow table are a purple-eyed figurine and a curved dagger.
action: Go west
response: The furnishings in the bedroom are about what you'd expect - a rumpled bed whose sour odor permeates the room and a dresser with a scatter of stuff on top. There's a wide archway to the east and an imposing-looking door in the north wall. The square hatch by which you first entered the room is set into the east wall at the northeast corner.
action: You go outside
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, a screwdriver, a wooden bucket, and a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a poker, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, and some fire tongs) here.
action: You take all
response: rat droppings: The rat droppings are of no conceivable use to you.

onions: The onions are of no conceivable use to you.

screwdriver: Taken.
wooden bucket: Taken.
burlap sack: Taken.
action: You put the poker in the grate
response: (first taking the poker from the burlap sack)
You push the poker through the grate.
action: You drop all
response: stone bracelet:
(first taking off the stone bracelet)
Dropped.

screwdriver: Dropped.
wooden bucket: Dropped.
burlap sack: Dropped.
action: Go upwards
response: You grasp the rope firmly in both hands and pull, and the box in which you're confined rises, foot by swaying foot, up the shaft in which it's suspended. In a few moments you're looking out at the bedroom.
action: Go outside
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, a stone bracelet, a screwdriver, a wooden bucket, and a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, and some fire tongs) here.
action: Go east
response: This narrow, windowless room is lit only by the daylight that spills through the open doorway to the west, which leads back to the bedroom. A narrow table stands against the north wall, and at the foot of the table, in the east wall, a metal grate is set in the baseboard.

In the east wall, where you might ordinarily expect to see a door to another room, is a massive slab of stone, both broader and higher than a door. In the upper center of the slab is a circular carving.

You see a poker here. On the shallow table are a purple-eyed figurine and a curved dagger.
action: You hit the dagger with the poker
response: You take a valiant swing at the flying dagger, but it veers aside and you miss.

The dagger slashes and jabs at you, dancing and swooping and slashing in midair.
action: You put bracelet on the dagger
response: There's no good surface on the curved dagger.

The dagger slashes and jabs at you, dancing and swooping and slashing in midair.
action: You look at peephole
response: The peephole is a little brass ring mounted in the door, with a glass lens in the center.
action: You look in it
response: Through the peephole you can see Luisa standing at her ironing board, ironing.
action: Search slab
response: You must open the slab before you can do that.
action: You open slab
response: You push and prod at the slab, but it's unyielding.
action: You go north
response: (first unlocking the door, then opening it)
The bolt makes a soft scraping noise as you gently slide it back.

The upstairs hall, which extends eastward, widens here to form an odd-shaped space. It's too open to be called a room, but too functional to be called a hallway. An ironing board is set up in the northeast corner, and behind it a narrow, steep stairway ascends. There's a doorway to the north, a wide, massive closed door to the south, and a broad window on the west wall, beneath which is a box-shaped window seat.

Luisa is standing at the ironing board, ironing.

When Luisa sees that the door of Phelps's bedroom is open, she crosses herself, mutters something that sounds like, "Madre de dios," and rushes off down the hall. As you're wondering what to do next, Beauregard Phelps rushes up to you and grips your arm so hard you cry out in pain. "So," he says. "We got ourselves a sneak thief. Luisa tells me you got into my room. Well, no harm done. But I reckon we'll have to put you away where you can't get in no more mischief between now and the time for the ritual."

You try to protest that it's all a silly mistake, but he only laughs. Not letting his grip slacken for an instant, he drags you down to the cellar of the house and thrusts you into a big shipping trunk. The lid slams shut, and you're left curled up in a painful knot in total darkness.

A long time passes - you're not sure how long. When you hear footsteps approaching, and voices, a flush of hope jolts through you. The trunk lid springs open and you're hauled out. You start to protest about your treatment, but then you see that Aunt Caroline is carrying the white dress, and your words freeze in your throat. Your aunt's mouth is set in a grim line.

While the others watch, ignoring your shame, she and Honey Hartwell force you to take off your clothes and put on the white dress. Then the whole party, with you in the middle crying and trying to get away, marches out to the meadow where the block of stone is standing. "It's almost time now," Phelps says, his voice bubbling with an undercurrent of glee.

As sunset arrives, there's a thickening in the air, a sense of a foul presence gathering. Shortly you can see it hovering above the stone block, a huge form that grows darker and more solid by the moment. The monster's fangs and claws are exactly like those on the little figurines, but far larger and more terrifying.

The demon reaches toward you, its thick red tongue writhing out obscenely. Your aunt and a well-dressed man whose aftershave smells, nauseatingly, of mint force you down on your back on the stone block, and Beauregard Phelps stalks ponderously forward, raising his curved dagger high and bringing it down toward your breast in a swift slashing arc.
action: You wait
response: Time passes...
action: Leave
response: Trying to maneuver your way through the narrow opening, you inadvertently let go of the rope. As your grip on the rope slackens, the box plummets back down the shaft! You land with a jarring thud at the bottom, your hands stinging from rope burns.
action: Go outside
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, a screwdriver, a wooden bucket, and a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a black-eyed figurine, a green-eyed figurine, a sketchbook, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, and some fire tongs) here.
action: You take all
response: rat droppings: The rat droppings are of no conceivable use to you.

onions: The onions are of no conceivable use to you.

screwdriver: Taken.
wooden bucket: Taken.
burlap sack: Taken.
action: You examine the sketchbook
response: The cloth-covered book is hundreds of pages thick and more than a foot square. The pages don't fit neatly between the covers; the book appears to have been bound by hand. The front cover, of well-worn coarse cloth, is blank: No title or author, no lettering of any kind.
action: You read it
response: (first taking the sketchbook from the burlap sack)
The book proves to contain almost nothing but hand-drawn pencil sketches - more than a hundred of them on thick, stiff paper. Each sketch is different, but there's a common theme. Most show monsters and demons of various sorts, in various poses and settings. As you leaf through the book, you find that you're becoming more and more disturbed by the gruesome images.

At the bottom of each sketch, a single word has been written in block capitals. The words themselves have an exotic, foreign flavor that matches the bizarre pictures. Here's a sketch of two demons with fangs and spears stabbing a huge feathered serpent, or possibly a dragon. Beneath the sketch is the word HUATLI.

Another sketch, perhaps the most frightening of the lot, shows a young girl lying naked on her back on a block of stone. A man in an elaborate headdress looms over her with an upraised dagger, while a huge demon with claws and flaming eyes looks on. Beneath this image is the word OLTIOC.

A sketch of a demon eating what looks disgustingly like a human heart is labelled ZIATLI. A sketch of two men in headdresses holding a girl between them and presenting her to a giant serpent is labelled MAZIDI. A sketch of a girl being - no, that one is too upsetting even to think about, but you notice the word UMIXIM below it.

You flip past the other images hurriedly, drawn back in spite of yourself to the one that shows the horrible carving on the stone block in the meadow. Below it is the mysterious word IXTLOC.
action: You put the bracelet in the sack
response: (first taking off the stone bracelet)
Done.
action: You put it on the device
response: (the black-eyed figurine)
The black-eyed figurine is too large for the wooden circle.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a screwdriver, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a hand mirror, a green-eyed figurine, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a stone bracelet, and a black-eyed figurine), a sketchbook, and some fire tongs. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You look at the device
response: The device is circular, and about the size of a small lazy susan. Bright sunlight shines directly on it through the window. The central part of the device is a circular platform of polished wood, in which is inlaid an arrow in lighter wood. The arrow points somewhat to the left of the window. Also incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters you saw carved on the stone slab upstairs in Beauregard's bedroom and those on the stone bracelet.

Mounted along the edges of the circle are several clear glass prisms and several more small rectangular mirrors. The latter are held in place by slim brass mounting clips. One of the mounting clips is empty, however.

As the sunlight hits the prisms, a rainbow of light cascades across the surface of the device.
action: You put the mirror in the device
response: (first taking the hand mirror from the burlap sack)
You fit the mirror into the brass clip.
action: You examine device
response: The device is circular, and about the size of a small lazy susan. Bright sunlight shines directly on it through the window. The central part of the device is a circular platform of polished wood, in which is inlaid an arrow in lighter wood. The arrow points somewhat to the left of the window. Also incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters you saw carved on the stone slab upstairs in Beauregard's bedroom and those on the stone bracelet.

Mounted along the edges of the circle are several clear glass prisms and several more small rectangular mirrors. The latter are held in place by slim brass mounting clips. There are mirrors or prisms in all of the clips.

As the sunlight hits the prisms, a rainbow of light cascades across the surface of the device.
action: You examine the circle
response: Which circle do you mean, the wooden circle, or the bad fuse?
action: Wooden
response: The wooden circle at the center of the curious device is about a foot in diameter. The surface is dark except for a lighter-colored inlaid arrow, which points out the window, more or less in the direction of the afternoon sun. Incised in the wood are some abstract figures or designs. They look rather like the mysterious letters you saw carved on the stone slab upstairs in Beauregard's bedroom and those on the stone bracelet.
action: Point
response: (the evil figurines)
(first trying to take the evil figurines)
As you reach out to touch the nearest of the figurines, you have the momentary sensation that it has lunged at you and snapped at your fingers with its teeth. Obviously, it couldn't actually have moved - could it? But a shaft of intense pain shoots up your arm, and you recoil as quickly as if you had put your hand in an open flame.
action: You look at sun
response: The sun is shining in the window.
action: You point the arrow at the sun
response: You swivel the device so as to aim the arrow on the wooden circle straight at the afternoon sun.

As the rainbows of light play across the surface of the device, the bracelet begins to emit a warm hum. The hum is pleasant, but almost too soft to be sensed. For a few moments it seems the bracelet is glowing with its own light, the strange letters on the stones shifting into new shapes. When the effect subsides, the bracelet looks much the way it did before.
action: You drop all but the bracelet
response: screwdriver: Dropped.
wooden bucket: Dropped.
burlap sack: Dropped.
sketchbook: Dropped.
fire tongs: Dropped.
action: Go outside
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, a screwdriver, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a gold locket, a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a green-eyed figurine, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, and a black-eyed figurine), a sketchbook, and some fire tongs here.
action: You go west
response: You walk down the narrow, ill-lit hall, and emerge in the office.

This room looks as if it serves as Beauregard Phelps's office. It's frankly a mess - littered with teetering piles of yellowing paper.
It's dominated by a big desk, which sits in the center of the room with a chair behind it. Beneath the window at the west end of the room is a small square table, on which rests a curious device.

On the wooden circle is a stone bracelet.
action: Wear bracelet
response: You're already wearing it.
action: You rub it
response: The bracelet tingles faintly under your fingertips.
action: You touch carving
response: As your fingers brush the circular carving on the slab, a blaze of light bursts from it. At the same moment, a deep grinding rumble emanates from within the slab, so loud it rattles your teeth and raises little dust spurts on the floor. You take an involuntary step backward and watch apprehensively as the slab pivots to the side, creating a narrow opening through which you can pass.
action: You take the poker
response: You are already carrying the poker.
action: You examine the north slab
response: The stone slab set in the north curve of the room looks much like the others. The abstract lines and shapes incised on its surface look a bit like a design for a primitive computer circuit board.
action: You look at the northeast slab
response: The stone slab set in the northeast curve of the room looks much like the others. The abstract lines and shapes incised on its surface look a bit like a design for a primitive computer circuit board.
action: Go east
response: A square-cut channel, too broad to jump and seemingly bottomless (though in the dim light it's hard to be certain) stretches from north to south here. Spanning it is a narrow ribbon of silver, barely wide enough to walk on. The ribbon shimmers slightly, as if it's made of oily light. The walls of close-fitting gray stone were obviously made by human hands - or at least, by hands of some sort.

An open doorway leads west, and the silver bridge affords a slightly vertiginous path to the east.
action: You look at Channel
response: The chasm is deep and wide. Looking down into it, you can't see the bottom, but faint sounds echoing up from far below suggest that it's not actually bottomless. The sides are certainly too steep to climb, though.
action: You examine the bridge
response: The silver bridge is barely wide enough to walk on. It shimmers and ripples, as if it's made of oily light.
action: Go east
response: You step lightly and carefully across the narrow silver bridge. As you reach the far end, a sizzling, crackling noise behind you makes you whirl and look back. The bridge is evaporating at your heels into a drift of silver sparks. The sparks spin, dimming, into the abyss. In a moment the bridge is gone.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.
action: You go to the north
response: The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.
action: You examine the door
response: The bronze door is standing open.
action: Go north
response: This large room, which smells cloyingly of incense, is luxuriously furnished in an style that you'd probably be able to identify if you hadn't been daydreaming so much during World History. Possibly it's Aztec, Mayan, Incan, or even Egyptian. Straw mats hang from the walls, painted with elaborate designs in red and black. A heavy cabinet stands against the east wall. The bronze door is to the south, and daylight spills through an open archway to the north.
action: You examine the cabinet
response: The cabinet is six feet tall and three wide. It's a fine example of the woodworker's art - the blond wood of the front panel is so highly polished it practically glows. Inlaid in the center of the front is a large circle of darker wood.
action: You examine the mats
response: The mats are quite large - at least five feet wide, and six or seven feet long. They're painted with elaborate and somewhat unnerving designs in red and black.
action: You examine the designs
response: Which designs do you mean, the letters on the bracelet, or the straw mats?
action: You take the mat
response: With a bit of fiddling, you're able to detach one of the mats from the hook on which it's hanging.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a poker and a straw mat, and you're wearing your clothes and a stone bracelet.
action: You look at circle
response: The wooden circle on the front of the cabinet is rather larger than a human face. Seven designs or glyphs are inlaid on the circle - in no particular order, a circle surrounded by rays that must represent the sun, a long curved dagger, the stylized head of a snarling jaguar, a bird with outstretched wings, a tilted jug from whose mouth a stream of water is pouring, an ear of corn, and a coiled rattlesnake with bared fangs. Directly above the circle is a large arrowhead whose point aims straight down at the upper edge of the circle.
action: You go to the north
response: This little balcony overlooks a small but well-maintained formal garden dotted with fruit trees. Looming over the garden to the east is an imposing, windowless building whose heavy, close-set stone pillars suggest Egypt or Ancient Rome. An open archway to the south leads back into the chamber, and a steep flight of stairs leads down into the garden.
action: You examine the building
response: The building is massive and windowless.
action: Go down
response: Winding walks of crushed gravel snake between glossy-leaved, well-pruned trees and flowering shrubs. The air is warm and so freighted with the scent of blossoms as to be almost foetid. In the center of the garden stands a handsome but rather spindly fruit tree.

The garden is walled on all sides, with a tall, heavy building to the east and south, and ordinary exterior walls on the north and west. A stairway leads up to a little balcony.
action: You look at the tree
response: The tree in the center of the garden has a slim trunk and a profusion of foliage. Possibly the fruit has recently been harvested, but if so, the gardeners didn't quite finish the job. Hanging from one upper bough, half-hidden among the leaves, is a single large, ripe golden fruit.
action: You look at the fruit
response: The fruit is of a rosy golden hue, like a peach, and as globular as an orange. Whatever it is, it looks delectable.
action: You take fruit
response: The fruit is well out of reach among the upper branches of the tree.
action: You climb the tree
response: You try to haul yourself up the trunk of the fruit tree in the center of the garden, but it sways dangerously. Evidently the tree is just too spindly to support your weight.
action: Shake tree
response: You grab the trunk of the tree and give it an experimental shake. The leaves rustle and the golden fruit sways on its stem, so you push a little harder. The leaves rustle more loudly - and after bobbing and waggling back and forth a few times, the golden fruit drops free and lands on the ground at your feet with a soft thump.
action: You smell it
response: It smells delicious.
action: You eat the fruit
response: As you're about to bite into the tempting piece of fruit, it occurs to you that you haven't really been feeling much of an appetite all afternoon. Maybe you could find some other use for it. Throwing it at Beauregard Phelps? No, maybe not. But it ought to be good for something.
action: Go east
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads up to the narrow balcony.
action: You go to the east
response: Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

A little brown spider monkey is wandering across the courtyard. When he sees you, he scuttles away into the shadows, but a moment later he creeps cautiously back and stares at you from a safe distance.
action: You look at the monkey
response: The monkey is light brown, with large eyes and a long slim tail. He's not much more than a foot tall. Your presence seems to make him a bit nervous. He's curious about you, but keeping his distance.
action: You examine the pool
response: The surface of the square pool is rippling faintly in a breath of breeze, and the ripples catch bright glints of sunlight and toss them out across the walls.
action: You look at the benches
response: The benches provide a border around the square pool.
action: You enter the pool
response: You glance at the shallow pool and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
action: Pet monkey
response: The monkey edges away from you, looking doubtful.
action: You give the fruit to the monkey
response: The monkey accepts the golden fruit from you gravely, taking it in both hands, sniffing it, and touching the tip of his tongue to the skin. Apparently it meets with his approval - he bites into it, chews quickly, and eats more. As you watch, he devours the whole thing.

Your magnanimous gesture seems to have convinced the little monkey that you're his friend. He tugs at your pants leg and gazes up at you trustingly.
action: You show the bracelet to the monkey
response: The monkey makes a tiny chittering sound that might be laughter.
action: You go to the north
response: (first standing up)
The monkey scampers beside you.

The vaulted ceiling of this huge room is at least fifty feet above you. A double row of fat pillars lines the east and west walls. The pillars can't very well be real gold (can they?), but they look like gold. You tread lightly, yet your footsteps echo.

At the north end of the room stands a huge and hideous black statue. It's at least twenty feet tall, and looks almost exactly like the little statuettes you've seen at Eternal Springs - so much like them that looking at it makes your mouth dry and your hands cold. Before the statue is a polished cube of black stone six feet high.

The high arched doorway that leads back to the courtyard is to the south. There's also a passage to the north, but to reach it you'll have to pass quite close to the hideous statue.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You examine the statue
response: The statue has wide, glaring eyes that glitter a deep red, outstretched hands with fearsome claws, and a grimacing mouth lined with pointed teeth. Looking at it sets your heart tapping in your chest. As you move across the floor of the temple, the statue's smoldering eyes seem to follow you.
action: You examine cube
response: The cube looks to be made of polished black stone - obsidian, or something like it. It's positioned directly before the hideous statue. Steps lead up to the top of the cube from the left and right.
action: You examine the pillars
response: The pillars are monumental. They seem to glow faintly in the cavernous room.
action: You get on the cube
response: No power on Earth could entice you to ascend the steps to the top of the cube.
action: You go to the north
response: As you try to sidle past the hideous statue, it leans sideways, reaches out with its claws, and slashes at you! You scramble backward to get out of its reach. Your first impulse is to run as fast as you can back down the temple and out into the courtyard, but after a moment you see that the statue is not coming after you. It's as motionless as it was before you approached.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying a poker, a straw mat, and a piece of golden fruit, and you're wearing your clothes and a stone bracelet.
action: You go south
response: This little balcony overlooks a small but well-maintained formal garden dotted with fruit trees. Looming over the garden to the east is an imposing, windowless building whose heavy, close-set stone pillars suggest Egypt or Ancient Rome. An open archway to the south leads back into the chamber, and a steep flight of stairs leads down into the garden.
action: You go to the east
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead south to the sumptuously decorated chamber, and down to the tropical garden.
action: You show the fruit to the monkey
response: As you hold out the golden fruit, the monkey edges toward you, opening and closing his little mouth.
action: Go north
response: The vaulted ceiling of this huge room is at least fifty feet above you. A double row of fat pillars lines the east and west walls. The pillars can't very well be real gold (can they?), but they look like gold. You tread lightly, yet your footsteps echo.

At the north end of the room stands a huge and hideous black statue. It's at least twenty feet tall, and looks almost exactly like the little statuettes you've seen at Eternal Springs - so much like them that looking at it makes your mouth dry and your hands cold. Before the statue is a polished cube of black stone six feet high.

The high arched doorway that leads back to the courtyard is to the south. There's also a passage to the north, but to reach it you'll have to pass quite close to the hideous statue.
action: Go south
response: Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

The monkey sits by the edge of the pool and stares into it, possibly at his own reflection.
action: You give the fruit to the monkey
response: The monkey accepts the golden fruit from you gravely, taking it in both hands, sniffing it, and touching the tip of his tongue to the skin. Apparently it meets with his approval - he bites into it, chews quickly, and eats more. As you watch, he devours the whole thing.

Your magnanimous gesture seems to have convinced the little monkey that you're his friend. He tugs at your pants leg and gazes up at you trustingly.
action: Go north
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The vaulted ceiling of this huge room is at least fifty feet above you. A double row of fat pillars lines the east and west walls. The pillars can't very well be real gold (can they?), but they look like gold. You tread lightly, yet your footsteps echo.

At the north end of the room stands a huge and hideous black statue. It's at least twenty feet tall, and looks almost exactly like the little statuettes you've seen at Eternal Springs - so much like them that looking at it makes your mouth dry and your hands cold. Before the statue is a polished cube of black stone six feet high.

The high arched doorway that leads back to the courtyard is to the south. There's also a passage to the north, but to reach it you'll have to pass quite close to the hideous statue.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Kiss monkey
response: The monkey allows you to pet him gently.
action: You take the monkey
response: The monkey allows himself to be picked up, but quickly grows restless in your arms. Taking pity on him, you set him back down.
action: Go south
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

Behind you, to the west, is the imposing edifice of the building, which is broken here by a row of arches. To the east a shallow flight of stairs at least fifty feet wide glides down to the near edge of what appears to be a slum. Mud-brick hovels, some thatch-roofed and some topped with red ceramic tile, are crammed together in a cityscape that stretches to the horizon. Brown-skinned, black-haired people are moving in and out among the nearer structures; they don't seem to have noticed you yet, but you're very visible. Clearly, this is not a safe place to linger.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go downwards
response: For a moment you consider venturing out into the slum - but it would take you days to explore it, and the local people could hardly fail to notice the blond stranger. No, whatever you hope to gain in this strange place surely lies in the building behind you.
action: You look at the people
response: The people move slowly and aimlessly in the heat of the sun. They're shabbily dressed and unsmiling. None of them is looking in your direction, and that's probably just as well.
action: Go west
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go south
response: The monkey follows you.

This appalling chamber is lit only by the gray daylight that spills in from the open doorway to the north. The floor here is heaped with piles of bones - human bones. Skulls lie in heaps, and the floor is carpeted with a mad xylophone of crisscrossing ribs.

Against one wall a nearly complete skeleton is slumped in an attitude of dejection.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You examine skeleton
response: The skeleton is about five feet tall, and seems to be nearly complete. The flesh has long since dried up and blown away, except for slender ligaments that look to be holding the bones together in a coherent form - for now, anyway.
action: You look at the bones
response: There must be hundreds of skeletons here, lying in a dreadful and pathetic jumble. The bones are old and dry, every scrap of flesh long since gnawed away by vermin. The thought that all these were once living, breathing people fills you with almost unbearable sadness. One skeleton, slumped against a wall, seems still to be intact.
action: You take the skeleton
response: Your hands are too full to hold the skeleton.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a poker and a straw mat, and you're wearing your clothes and a stone bracelet.
action: You put the skeleton in the mat
response: (first trying to take the skeleton)
Your hands are too full to hold the skeleton.
action: You put the skeleton on the mat
response: (first taking the skeleton)
Done.
action: You take mat
response: If you pick up the mat now, what's on it will slide off. You might try rolling it up.
action: Roll mat
response: You roll up the mat, concealing the skeleton.
action: Describe the surroundings
response: This appalling chamber is lit only by the gray daylight that spills in from the open doorway to the north. The floor here is heaped with piles of bones - human bones. Skulls lie in heaps, and the floor is carpeted with a mad xylophone of crisscrossing ribs.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You examine the ribs
response: There must be hundreds of skeletons here, lying in a dreadful and pathetic jumble. The bones are old and dry, every scrap of flesh long since gnawed away by vermin. The thought that all these were once living, breathing people fills you with almost unbearable sadness.
action: You go north
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go west
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go south
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go to the south
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The passage from the north opens out here on a balcony overlooking a jarringly prosaic scene. Half a dozen men wearing camouflage combat fatigues and black berets are lounging around a long table, smoking cigarettes and talking in low voices. The men are armed with what look like automatic rifles. Fortunately, they don't seem to have noticed you. A stairway leads down from the balcony into the middle of the room.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go to the north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go east
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go north
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go west
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You look at the figure
response: The figure is carved of red stone. Its face is contorted in a grimace, and its body is bare except for a stylized loin cloth. Its stumpy legs are firmly planted on a round base, and are slightly bowed. Its right arm is extended in a grasping gesture. The arm is pointed straight toward the end wall of the tunnel.
action: You turn it
response: You apply your weight to the stone figure, and find that it rotates easily on its base. The grinding noise of stone against stone is not loud, but it's echoed in a deep, prolonged thunder from back down the tunnel. Even after the figure itself has ceased moving, you feel a vibration beneath your feet, and a little dust seeps down from somewhere overhead.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go east
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the east end. The only way you can go is back to the west.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go west
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go west
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You turn the stone
response: You glance at the stone wall and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
action: You turn statue
response: You apply your weight to the stone figure, and find that it rotates easily on its base. The grinding noise of stone against stone is not loud, but it's echoed in a deep, prolonged thunder from back down the tunnel. Even after the figure itself has ceased moving, you feel a vibration beneath your feet, and a little dust seeps down from somewhere overhead.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the east end. The only way you can go is back to the west.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go west
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go west
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You examine the figure
response: The figure is carved of red stone. Its face is contorted in a grimace, and its body is bare except for a stylized loin cloth. Its stumpy legs are firmly planted on a round base, and are slightly bowed. Its right arm is extended in a grasping gesture. The arm is pointed straight back down the tunnel the way you came.
action: Go east
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go south
response: The monkey follows you.

The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go east
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go to the south
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the south end. The only way you can go is back to the north.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go east
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the east end. The only way you can go is back to the west.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go west
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go to the west
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go north
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go east
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go north
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the north end. The only way you can go is back to the south.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go south
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go east
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go south
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel turns from the north to the west here.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go to the east
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead back to the north and west.
action: Go west
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go east
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel turns from the north to the west here.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go north
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel turns from the south to the west here.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go west
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel turns from the south to the west here.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go south
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go west
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go to the north
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the north end. The only way you can go is back to the south.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go south
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go to the east
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go south
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel turns from the north to the west here.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go west
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel turns from the north to the west here.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go north
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go north
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel turns from the south to the west here.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go west
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go east
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel turns from the south to the west here.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go south
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go west
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the north end. The only way you can go is back to the south.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go south
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go west
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go north
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the north end. The only way you can go is back to the south.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go south
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go west
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go east
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go south
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, east, and back to the west.
action: Go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the north end. The only way you can go is back to the south.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go south
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go east
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go north
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the north end. The only way you can go is back to the south.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go south
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go west
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go east
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go north
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go south
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the east end. The only way you can go is back to the west.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Turn figure
response: You apply your weight to the stone figure, and find that it rotates easily on its base. The grinding noise of stone against stone is not loud, but it's echoed in a deep, prolonged thunder from back down the tunnel. Even after the figure itself has ceased moving, you feel a vibration beneath your feet, and a little dust seeps down from somewhere overhead.
action: Go west
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go north
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. There are no side exits.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go south
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go west
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go to the east
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go to the north
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. There are no side exits.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go to the north
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go east
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

This high-ceilinged chamber is dimly lit by dusty beams that filter down from far above. The walls and floor are of rough-hewn, gray blocks of stone. The room's only furnishing is a very large, heavily built throne of the same gray stone. The throne stands in the center of the room. Its square-cut seat, arms, and back look so very uncomfortable that it's hard to believe anybody would ever have sat on it willingly, and the coating of dust that covers the throne and the floor, though somewhat scuffed, suggests that nobody has come here in a very long time.

The only exit is back to the west.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You examine the throne
response: The throne is almost large enough that a giant could sit in it, but you could probably clamber up into the seat if there were any reason to. It's carved of the same dark gray stone as the walls and floor, and its stark contours are unrelieved by ornamentation or markings of any kind.
action: You sit on it
response: From your hard perch on the throne, you notice for the first time what had been invisible before: A strip of carvings runs along the wall, high up in the gloom. Carved in this frieze is a series of figures, which are repeated rhythmically along the strip.
action: You look at the frieze
response: The frieze has been carved into the walls in a strip that runs around three sides of the room at a height of about ten feet. A series of five figures or glyphs is repeated along the frieze, each group separated by vertical marks from the identical groups to either side. From left to right, the glyphs are of a stylized jaguar's head, a rayed circle that must represent the sun, a coiled rattlesnake with bared fangs, a curved dagger, and a tilted jug from which water is pouring out.
action: Look around
response: This high-ceilinged chamber is dimly lit by dusty beams that filter down from far above. The walls and floor are of rough-hewn, gray blocks of stone. The room's only furnishing is a very large, heavily built throne of the same gray stone. The throne stands in the center of the room. Its square-cut seat, arms, and back look so very uncomfortable that it's hard to believe anybody would ever have sat on it willingly, and the coating of dust that covers the throne and the floor, though somewhat scuffed, suggests that nobody has come here in a very long time.

So far overhead that the details are almost lost to view, a carved frieze runs around the walls in a horizontal strip.

The only exit is back to the west.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go west
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go south
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. There are no side exits.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go south
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go east
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the east end. The only way you can go is back to the west.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go west
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go north
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go west
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go to the west
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go north
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the north end. The only way you can go is back to the south.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go north
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the north end. The only way you can go is back to the south.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go to the south
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go north
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel turns from the south to the west here.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go west
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go east
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel turns from the south to the west here.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go south
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel extends from north to south here. Another passage leads away to the west.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go west
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the north.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go west
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go west
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the west end. The only way you can go is back to the east.

An ugly figure of red stone stands here. It's about as tall as your waist, and one stubby arm is outstretched, as if it were frozen in the act of grasping with its claws.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go to the east
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go south
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go upward
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go north
response: The monkey follows you.

This large room, which smells cloyingly of incense, is luxuriously furnished in an style that you'd probably be able to identify if you hadn't been daydreaming so much during World History. Possibly it's Aztec, Mayan, Incan, or even Egyptian. Straw mats hang from the walls, painted with elaborate designs in red and black. A heavy cabinet stands against the east wall. The bronze door is to the south, and daylight spills through an open archway to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You turn the wooden circle to the jaguar
response: You rotate the circle so that the jaguar is beneath the point of the arrow.
action: You turn it to the sun
response: You rotate the circle so that the sun is beneath the point of the arrow.
action: You turn it to the snake
response: You rotate the circle so that the rattlesnake is beneath the point of the arrow.
action: You turn it to dagger
response: You rotate the circle so that the dagger is beneath the point of the arrow.
action: You turn it to the jug
response: You rotate the circle so that the tilted jug is beneath the point of the arrow.
action: You turn it to jaguar
response: You rotate the circle so that the jaguar is beneath the point of the arrow. Within the cabinet you hear a heavy click.
action: You open the cabinet
response: There are no obvious handles on the front panel, but when you press in on it and then release the pressure, it springs out at one side, allowing you to insert your fingers into the narrow aperture and swing the door open.

Hanging from a hook in the cabinet is a heavy golden cape. At the bottom of the cabinet lies a golden helmet with a high crest. And leaning in the corner of the cabinet is a long wooden staff.
action: You look at the cape
response: The cape is intricately woven in a pattern red and gold thread, into which are sewn rectangular metal plates that have the gleam of polished brass.
action: You examine the helmet
response: The helmet gleams like gold, or possibly brass. It has a high crest, sidepieces that shield the wearer's cheeks, and a leather chinstrap to hold it in place.
action: You look at the staff
response: The staff is a straight piece of polished dark wood nearly six feet long and about an inch in diameter. The head of the staff broadens and flattens slightly, and is curved forward, giving the staff somewhat the look of an upside-down capital 'J' from which most of the curved part has been broken off. It's not broken, however. It looks quite well cared for, if such a thing can be said of a stick.
action: TAKE CAPE, HELMET, STAFF
response: golden cape: Your hands are too full to hold the golden cape.

golden helmet: Your hands are too full to hold the golden helmet.

wooden staff: Your hands are too full to hold the wooden staff.
action: You take mat
response: Your hands are too full to hold the rolled-up straw mat.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a poker and a wooden staff, and you're wearing your clothes, a stone bracelet, a golden cape, and a golden helmet.
action: You go to the south
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go east
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go north
response: The monkey follows you.

The vaulted ceiling of this huge room is at least fifty feet above you. A double row of fat pillars lines the east and west walls. The pillars can't very well be real gold (can they?), but they look like gold. You tread lightly, yet your footsteps echo.

At the north end of the room stands a huge and hideous black statue. It's at least twenty feet tall, and looks almost exactly like the little statuettes you've seen at Eternal Springs - so much like them that looking at it makes your mouth dry and your hands cold. Before the statue is a polished cube of black stone six feet high.

The high arched doorway that leads back to the courtyard is to the south. There's also a passage to the north, but to reach it you'll have to pass quite close to the hideous statue.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go upwards
response: The ceiling appears to be quite solid.
action: Go north
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind. You sidle carefully past the statue.

This dimly lit passage runs from north to south. Although the passage is narrow, it's also quite high-ceilinged. To the north you hear a susurrus of sifting, skittering sounds.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go to the north
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

You are standing on a stone ledge, perhaps six feet square, at the south side of a broad but low-ceilinged chamber. Behind you, to the south, is the open doorway that leads back to the temple. The floor of this chamber, which stretches away to the north, appears to be of sand. And not ordinary sand, either. As you watch, the sand shifts and seethes and ripples in a treacherous, dusty, incessant way.

But that isn't the worst of it. Scampering and skittering across the sand are dozens of shockingly large and alert-looking scorpions. At the moment the scorpions are paying no special attention to you, but you have a strong suspicion that if you were to venture out across the sand, they would soon notice you and not take kindly to your presence. Even if the sand provided safe footing (and obviously it doesn't), crossing the chamber would be extremely hazardous.

Arrayed around three sides of the chamber are dozens - no, hundreds - of low pedestals of white stone. On each pedestal sits a large and beautiful red jewel. The jewels throb in slow, hypnotic rhythms, filling the room with undulating red light.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You examine the scorpions
response: The scorpions prance and dance across the shifting sand. Even the small ones are as large as lobsters. Their claws wave and snap, and their stingers arch and jab the air.
action: You look at the sand
response: The sand looks to be quite dry, but it moves restlessly, like water. The scorpions appear to be able to walk on it, but they can't weigh much.
action: You look at the jewels
response: Each jewel sits serenely on its low white pedestal. Some of them are perfect spheres, others are many-faceted. All of them are throbbing with light, each pulsing in its own slow, hypnotic rhythm.
action: You touch the jewels
response: The pulsing jewels are too far away to touch.
action: You examine the pedestals
response: The pedestals appear to be of stone, but they're such a pure white that they appear almost to be glowing with their own light. On each pedestal sits a large and beautiful red jewel. Some of the jewels are perfect spheres, others are many-faceted. All of them are throbbing in slow, hypnotic rhythms, filling the room with undulating red light.
action: You talk to the jewels
response: None of the jewels are within reach. To get to the nearest of them you'd have to cross at least twenty feet of scorpion-infested sand.
action: You point to the jewels
response: You point at the jewels, and the monkey looks at you in perplexity, as if he'd like to help but doesn't understand what you have in mind. Maybe the difficulty is that there are so many jewels. He has no way of telling them apart.
action: You look
response: You are standing on a stone ledge, perhaps six feet square, at the south side of a broad but low-ceilinged chamber. Behind you, to the south, is the open doorway that leads back to the temple. The floor of this chamber, which stretches away to the north, appears to be of sand. And not ordinary sand, either. As you watch, the sand shifts and seethes and ripples in a treacherous, dusty, incessant way.

But that isn't the worst of it. Scampering and skittering across the sand are dozens of shockingly large and alert-looking scorpions. At the moment the scorpions are paying no special attention to you, but you have a strong suspicion that if you were to venture out across the sand, they would soon notice you and not take kindly to your presence. Even if the sand provided safe footing (and obviously it doesn't), crossing the chamber would be extremely hazardous.

Arrayed around three sides of the chamber are dozens - no, hundreds - of low pedestals of white stone. On each pedestal sits a large and beautiful red jewel. The jewels throb in slow, hypnotic rhythms, filling the room with undulating red light.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go to the south
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

This dimly lit passage runs from north to south. Although the passage is narrow, it's also quite high-ceilinged. To the north you hear a susurrus of sifting, skittering sounds.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Go south
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The vaulted ceiling of this huge room is at least fifty feet above you. A double row of fat pillars lines the east and west walls. The pillars can't very well be real gold (can they?), but they look like gold. You tread lightly, yet your footsteps echo.

At the north end of the room stands a huge and hideous black statue. It's at least twenty feet tall, and looks almost exactly like the little statuettes you've seen at Eternal Springs - so much like them that looking at it makes your mouth dry and your hands cold. Before the statue is a polished cube of black stone six feet high.

The high arched doorway that leads back to the courtyard is to the south. There's also a passage to the north, but to reach it you'll have to pass quite close to the hideous statue.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go south
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Drink water
response: You glance at the shallow pool and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
action: Go west
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go west
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, to the sumptuously decorated chamber; south, to opposite the doorway; and east, back to the wide courtyard.
action: Go south
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go west
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the T-shaped junction; south, to the guard room; and down.
action: You look at Channel
response: The chasm is deep and wide. Looking down into it, you can't see the bottom, but faint sounds echoing up from far below suggest that it's not actually bottomless. The sides are certainly too steep to climb, though.
action: Wave staff
response: As you wave the staff, a low hum emanates from a couple of footrest-sized blocks at the edge of the chasm. A band of light leaps out across the abyss, and in a moment the shimmering silver bridge is restored!
action: You go to the east
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go north
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead back to the south, east, and west.
action: Go south
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go west
response: The monkey follows you.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors. A slim silver bridge crosses the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go north
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

This large room, which smells cloyingly of incense, is luxuriously furnished in an style that you'd probably be able to identify if you hadn't been daydreaming so much during World History. Possibly it's Aztec, Mayan, Incan, or even Egyptian. Straw mats hang from the walls, painted with elaborate designs in red and black. A heavy cabinet stands against the east wall. The bronze door is to the south, and daylight spills through an open archway to the north.

You see a rolled-up straw mat and a poker here.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You remove helmet
response: As you start to slip the helmet from your head, you can feel the wooden staff writhe restlessly and muscularly beneath your hand. Alarmed, you set the helmet back in place.
action: You remove the cape
response: As you start to slip the cape from your shoulders, you can feel the wooden staff start to writhe restlessly and muscularly beneath your hand. Alarmed, you pull the cape back around you.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying a wooden staff and a rolled-up straw mat, and you're wearing your clothes, a stone bracelet, a golden cape, and a golden helmet.
action: You take the poker
response: Your hands are too full to hold the poker.
action: Go south
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You go to the west
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the sumptuously decorated chamber; south, to opposite the doorway; and east, to the wide courtyard.
action: You go south
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors. A slim silver bridge crosses the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go west
response: Showing up at Eternal Springs with stuff that obviously came from here (wherever "here" is) and probably belongs to someone important - someone Beauregard Phelps surely knows - would be a big mistake. After a moment's thought, you decide it would be a lot safer to leave what you found in the cabinet in the Sumptuous Chamber behind.
action: You go east
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go north
response: The monkey follows you.

The stone tunnel extends from east to west here. Another passage leads away to the south.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Go south
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go to the west
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors. A slim silver bridge crosses the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go north
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

This large room, which smells cloyingly of incense, is luxuriously furnished in an style that you'd probably be able to identify if you hadn't been daydreaming so much during World History. Possibly it's Aztec, Mayan, Incan, or even Egyptian. Straw mats hang from the walls, painted with elaborate designs in red and black. A heavy cabinet stands against the east wall. The bronze door is to the south, and daylight spills through an open archway to the north.

You see a poker here.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: You put the cape in the cabinet
response: (first trying to take off the golden cape)
Your hands are too full to hold the golden cape.
action: You put the cape in cabinet
response: (first taking off the golden cape)
Done.
action: You put the helmet in the cabinet
response: (first taking off the golden helmet)
Done.
action: You take mat and the poker
response: rolled-up straw mat: Taken.
poker: Taken.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a rolled-up straw mat and a poker, and you're wearing your clothes and a stone bracelet.
action: You go south
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: You go to the west
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the sumptuously decorated chamber; south, to opposite the doorway; and east, to the wide courtyard.
action: Go south
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors. A slim silver bridge crosses the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go west
response: You step lightly and carefully across the narrow silver bridge.

A square-cut channel, too broad to jump and seemingly bottomless (though in the dim light it's hard to be certain) stretches from north to south here. Spanning it is a narrow ribbon of silver, barely wide enough to walk on. The ribbon shimmers slightly, as if it's made of oily light. The walls of close-fitting gray stone were obviously made by human hands - or at least, by hands of some sort.

An open doorway leads west, and the silver bridge affords a slightly vertiginous path to the east.
action: You go west
response: This broad circular chamber is low-ceilinged and torchlit. The air of heavy stillness gives you the feeling that you're deep inside a building, or perhaps underground. The circumference of the room is lined by massive stone slabs like the one through which you arrived. Though the room itself is disorienting, not to mention that in a place like this your sense of direction is a little hazy, you're fairly sure you arrived through the slab to the southwest.

Other slabs are to the west, northwest, and so on. Each of them is carved with intricate and indecipherable designs. The eighth exit is an open doorway directly to the east.
action: You go to the southwest
response: You must open the southwest stone slab first.
action: You open the sw slab
response: As your fingers brush the ridged design on the slab, lights begin to course up and down through the stone channels on the surface. At the same moment, a deep grinding rumble emanates from within the slab. You step backward and watch as the slab pivots to the side, creating a narrow opening through which you can pass. Beyond the opening you can glimpse the comforting hominess of Beauregard Phelps's bedroom.
action: You put the mat in grate
response: The rolled-up straw mat is too large to fit through the opening.
action: You open the mat
response: You unroll the mat, revealing the skeleton.
action: You put the skeleton in grate
response: (first taking the skeleton)
The skeleton is not something that can be put through the grate.

The ligaments holding the skeleton's larger bones together are starting to stretch like rubber bands.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a poker, and you're wearing your clothes and a stone bracelet.
action: You go east
response: This narrow, windowless room is lit only by the daylight that spills through the open doorway to the west, which leads back to the bedroom. A narrow table stands against the north wall, and at the foot of the table, in the east wall, a metal grate is set in the baseboard.

In the east wall, where you might ordinarily expect to see a door to another room, is a massive slab of stone, both broader and higher than a door. In the upper center of the slab is a circular carving.

You see a rolled-up straw mat here. On the shallow table are a purple-eyed figurine and a curved dagger.
action: You take the skeleton
response: Taken.

The ligaments holding the skeleton's larger bones together are starting to stretch like rubber bands.
action: You put it on the table
response: The skeleton is too large for the shallow table.

A finger bone drops off of the skeleton's hand. No, carrying it around like this just isn't going to work.
action: You wait a while
response: Time passes...

The skull sags sideways onto your shoulder, giving you a nasty start. On close inspection, you find that the skull is awfully close to dropping free of the backbone.
action: Wait
response: Time passes...

Another finger bone drops and bounces. If you want to do anything with the skeleton, you're going to have to figure out a safe way to carry it. Either that or find a good book on human anatomy and a really big tube of glue.
action: Go west
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead east, back to the foot of the silver bridge; and southwest, to the alcove.
action: Drop mat and poker
response: rolled-up straw mat: Dropped.
poker: Dropped.
action: Go east
response: This narrow, windowless room is lit only by the daylight that spills through the open doorway to the west, which leads back to the bedroom. A narrow table stands against the north wall, and at the foot of the table, in the east wall, a metal grate is set in the baseboard.

In the east wall, where you might ordinarily expect to see a door to another room, is a massive slab of stone, both broader and higher than a door. In the upper center of the slab is a circular carving.

You see a rolled-up straw mat and a poker here. On the shallow table are a purple-eyed figurine and a curved dagger.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a gold locket, and you're wearing your clothes and a stone bracelet.
action: You go east
response: You must open the slab first.
action: You touch the slab
response: As before, the touch of your fingers on the carving causes it to radiate fierce light, and the slab pivots sideways, opening the passage.
action: Go east
response: You step lightly and carefully across the narrow silver bridge. As you reach the far end, a sizzling, crackling noise behind you makes you whirl and look back. The bridge is evaporating at your heels into a drift of silver sparks. The sparks spin, dimming, into the abyss. In a moment the bridge is gone.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: Pet monkey
response: The monkey allows you to pet him gently.
action: Go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go north
response: The monkey follows you.

This large room, which smells cloyingly of incense, is luxuriously furnished in an style that you'd probably be able to identify if you hadn't been daydreaming so much during World History. Possibly it's Aztec, Mayan, Incan, or even Egyptian. Straw mats hang from the walls, painted with elaborate designs in red and black. A heavy cabinet stands against the east wall. The bronze door is to the south, and daylight spills through an open archway to the north.

The heavy wood cabinet contains a wooden staff, a golden cape, and a golden helmet.

The monkey is still with you.
action: Wear helmet
response: (first taking the golden helmet)
Okay, you're now wearing the golden helmet.
action: You wear the cape
response: (first taking the golden cape)
Okay, you're now wearing the golden cape.
action: You go to the south
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go east
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go north
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

The vaulted ceiling of this huge room is at least fifty feet above you. A double row of fat pillars lines the east and west walls. The pillars can't very well be real gold (can they?), but they look like gold. You tread lightly, yet your footsteps echo.

At the north end of the room stands a huge and hideous black statue. It's at least twenty feet tall, and looks almost exactly like the little statuettes you've seen at Eternal Springs - so much like them that looking at it makes your mouth dry and your hands cold. Before the statue is a polished cube of black stone six feet high.

The high arched doorway that leads back to the courtyard is to the south. There's also a passage to the north, but to reach it you'll have to pass quite close to the hideous statue.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: You go to the north
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you. You sidle carefully past the statue.

This dimly lit passage runs from north to south. Although the passage is narrow, it's also quite high-ceilinged. To the north you hear a susurrus of sifting, skittering sounds.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go north
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

You are standing on a stone ledge, perhaps six feet square, at the south side of a broad but low-ceilinged chamber. Behind you, to the south, is the open doorway that leads back to the temple. The floor of this chamber, which stretches away to the north, appears to be of sand. And not ordinary sand, either. As you watch, the sand shifts and seethes and ripples in a treacherous, dusty, incessant way.

But that isn't the worst of it. Scampering and skittering across the sand are dozens of shockingly large and alert-looking scorpions. At the moment the scorpions are paying no special attention to you, but you have a strong suspicion that if you were to venture out across the sand, they would soon notice you and not take kindly to your presence. Even if the sand provided safe footing (and obviously it doesn't), crossing the chamber would be extremely hazardous.

Arrayed around three sides of the chamber are dozens - no, hundreds - of low pedestals of white stone. On each pedestal sits a large and beautiful red jewel. The jewels throb in slow, hypnotic rhythms, filling the room with undulating red light.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You give locket to the monkey
response: The monkey makes a tiny chittering sound that might be laughter.
action: You show the locket to the monkey
response: The monkey looks at you wide-eyed.
action: You point at the jewels
response: You point at the brightest, most swiftly pulsing of the jewels, and the monkey seems to be as intrigued by it as you are. He scampers out across the sand, weaving a devious path among the feisty scorpions, hops up on the pedestal, hugs the jewel in both arms, hops down, and scuttles back across the sand to you. He holds the jewel out to you. You take it from him and give him a warm pat on the head.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying a gold locket, a wooden staff, and a very large, softly pulsing ruby. You're wearing your clothes, a stone bracelet, a golden helmet, and a golden cape.
action: You examine the ruby
response: The ruby is a perfect polished sphere as large as a softball. Deep within it, red light pulses warmly.
action: You go south
response: The monkey scampers beside you.

This dimly lit passage runs from north to south. Although the passage is narrow, it's also quite high-ceilinged. To the north you hear a susurrus of sifting, skittering sounds.

The monkey is crouching at your feet.
action: You go south
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

The vaulted ceiling of this huge room is at least fifty feet above you. A double row of fat pillars lines the east and west walls. The pillars can't very well be real gold (can they?), but they look like gold. You tread lightly, yet your footsteps echo.

At the north end of the room stands a huge and hideous black statue. It's at least twenty feet tall, and looks almost exactly like the little statuettes you've seen at Eternal Springs - so much like them that looking at it makes your mouth dry and your hands cold. Before the statue is a polished cube of black stone six feet high.

The high arched doorway that leads back to the courtyard is to the south. There's also a passage to the north, but to reach it you'll have to pass quite close to the hideous statue.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go south
response: The monkey follows you.

Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.

The monkey is standing close by.
action: Go west
response: The monkey arrives on your heels.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Go north
response: The monkey trails faithfully along behind.

This large room, which smells cloyingly of incense, is luxuriously furnished in an style that you'd probably be able to identify if you hadn't been daydreaming so much during World History. Possibly it's Aztec, Mayan, Incan, or even Egyptian. Straw mats hang from the walls, painted with elaborate designs in red and black. A heavy cabinet stands against the east wall. The bronze door is to the south, and daylight spills through an open archway to the north.

The monkey goes off to take a quick look around, but soon returns.
action: Go south
response: The monkey goes down onto all fours to keep up with you.

The stone tunnel continues south (along the channel) and turns to the east here. A square of daylight can be glimpsed at the end of the east branch. A bronze door set in an ornate frame of carved stone is to the north.

The monkey is still with you.
action: You go to the west
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the sumptuously decorated chamber; south, to opposite the doorway; and east, to the wide courtyard.
action: Go south
response: Seeing you leave, the little monkey scuttles after you. When you pause, he looks up at you expectantly.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.

The monkey looks up at you expectantly.
action: Wave staff
response: As you wave the staff, a low hum emanates from a couple of footrest-sized blocks at the edge of the chasm. A band of light leaps out across the abyss, and in a moment the shimmering silver bridge is restored.

You look around and notice that the cute little monkey is gone. Probably he was just getting bored. It doesn't seem too likely you'll need his services again, but you feel a little sad anyway.
action: You go to the south
response: A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors. A slim silver bridge crosses the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.
action: Go southwest
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead east, back to opposite the doorway; and west, to the room of seven doors.
action: You open the southwest slab
response: As before, the touch of your fingers on the slab causes light to course up and down its surface, and the slab pivots sideways, opening the passage.
action: You put the ruby in the grate
response: You push the very large, softly pulsing ruby through the grate.
action: You put the poker in the grate
response: (first taking the poker)
You push the poker through the grate.
action: You go outside
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, a screwdriver, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, an indecipherable map, a green-eyed figurine, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, and a black-eyed figurine), a sketchbook, and some fire tongs here.
action: Onions
response: screwdriver: Taken.
wooden bucket: Taken.
burlap sack: Taken.
sketchbook: Taken.
fire tongs: Taken.
action: PUT TONGS, SKETCHBOOK, SCREWDRIVER IN SACK
response: fire tongs: Done.
sketchbook: Done.
screwdriver: Done.
action: You go south
response: This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard.

You see a very large, softly pulsing ruby and a poker here.
action: Poker in sack
response: very large, softly pulsing ruby:
(first taking the very large, softly pulsing ruby)
Done.

poker:
(first taking the poker)
Done.
action: Locket in sack
response: stone bracelet:
(first taking off the stone bracelet)
Done.

gold locket: Done.
action: You show the ruby to Lydia
response: (first taking the very large, softly pulsing ruby from the burlap sack) As you extend the giant ruby toward the ghostly girl, she moves toward it, entranced. "That's - oh. Oh. Ohhhh...." The ruby itself begins to vibrate, setting your fingers tingling, and it grows warmer, almost hot. You hold it out, and it floats free from your fingers, drifting toward her through the air.

The light blazing from the ruby grows more intense. It's too bright, you have to look away, but you can't. Seared on your eyes is the miraculous image of the jewel and the ghost merging, becoming one.

A moment later the light dims. When you blink back tears and rub your eyes, you find that the ghost has been transformed. A living girl stands before you.

The girl steps tentatively toward you through the long grass. "You - you've brought me back to life. I never thought...." She pauses to take a deep breath, and then she starts to cry. You give her such a close hug you can feel her heart beating.

At last she pulls away. "I think maybe you've guessed already, but I'll tell you anyway. Some people, a long time ago, they sacrificed me to a monster. It happened right here. The jewel you brought back was my heart. They ripped it out, and the monster ate it. I don't know where you found it, or how you brought it back, but I guess if you can do that you can do almost anything.

"But that doesn't mean you're safe. They're planning to do the same thing to you! Now listen: You've got to get away from here. We both have to. If we don't get away, and quickly, it will all happen again.

"I'll help you if I can, but it won't be easy. The people here mustn't see me. I think the best thing would be for me to stay here and hide until you're all ready for us to escape. When you're ready to leave, or if you want to talk to me, you'll have to come back here and shout, 'Olly olly oxen free.'"

You admit to being puzzled. Lydia looks exasperated. "Haven't you ever played hide-and-go-seek?" You tell her you grew up in New York City, where there's no place to hide. She waves your explanation away. "We can talk about that later. Just remember - 'olly olly oxen free.' If I'm waiting for you here, I won't come until you say that.

"Have you thought how we're going to escape?"

You tell her you were thinking of maybe stealing a boat. She nods excitedly. "Yes, yes - that might work. But the swamp is really confusing. I've been out there lots of times, but, you know, I guess I can't float through the air anymore. So if we get lost, we''ll be in big trouble.

"What we need, I think - we need a map of the swamp. And another thing: You see how it's getting all cloudy?" She points upward, and you notice for the first time that a film of haze has blotted out the sun. "If we can't see the sun, we can't tell which way is west, so we'll need a compass too. And a key so we can get into the boat shed. I guess that's all."

You tell her it sounds like she's thought of everything. "Well, I hope so," she says. "I have a bad feeling there are a couple of things I've forgotten, though. Now, have you got a map?"

You show her the map. "Oh, but we can't read that!" she cries. "It's all twisty! I bet the monster is making it do that. I don't know how to make it stop, though. We can't go anywhere until you make the map lie down and behave. And even then, we'll need a compass. Do you have one?"

You shake your head sadly. "I don't have a compass," you tell her.

She looks crestfallen. "What about the key to the boat shed? Do you have that?"

You shake your head. "I don't have the key," you explain.

"So you still need to do some stuff," Lydia says. "You need to figure out a way to fix the map so we can read it. You need to find a compass so we won't get lost in the swamp. You need to get your hands on the key to the boat shed. I guess that's all."
action: Time
response: You aren't wearing a wristwatch. Usually you'd keep track of time by glancing at your cell phone, but you seem to have misplaced that today. At a guess, it's about 5:00.
action: You go to the west
response: As you walk away, Lydia calls after you, "I'm going to hide now. Be sure to come back when you're ready for us to escape, and call 'olly olly oxen free.'"

You follow the path westward, back to Eternal Springs.

The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.

You find yourself wanting to hurry along, so as not to catch another glimpse, even out of the corner of your eye, of the terrible swamp-thing you saw - or imagined you saw - before.
action: You ask David about figurine
response: "The figurines ... ah, yes. Nasty little things, aren't they? You've seen one, I take it? If not, I'll show you one in just a moment." David frowns at his knees. He looks so sad you want to hug him, but you don't.

"They have some sort of magical linkage," he says, "to the actual demon to whom the sacrifice is to be made. They make their way out into the world somehow - I have no idea how, but I do believe they're not quite as inert as they may appear - and attach themselves to certain individuals who are predisposed to want what they have to offer.

"Once the attachment is formed, no one else can touch the figurine. It's quite impossible. I have one here ... if you'll just fetch my suitcase from the closet...." He points, and you fetch the suitcase.
He sets it on his lap, unsnaps the latch, and draws out a hideous little carved statue, so deep red it's almost black, with white eyes that sparkle like diamonds or chips of ice. You have the disturbing sense that the little eyes are actually looking at you.

David strokes the statue with a kind of reluctant fondness. "I'm torn, you see. On the one hand, I'd rather anything happen than what is to happen this evening. Please believe that. On the other hand ... to be able to walk again, to make love ... well, perhaps that doesn't mean much to you. How old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?" He sighs. "Your whole life ahead of you."

He pauses again, as if thinking. "I'll tell you what I'll do. I won't take any action myself to stop it. I've come too far. I'm committed. And in any event, if I were to interpose objections at this late stage, I'm quite sure I would be ignored. If not worse. But if you can discover for yourself a way to escape your fate, and if there's anything I can do to aid you, you have only to ask. I can do that much. Perhaps I'm only indulging in a sop to my conscience; I don't expect you'll have the slightest chance to evade what's to come. But if you're clever enough to do so, I won't stand in your way."

He tucks the repellent figurine away in the suitcase again, and closes the suitcase.
action: You ask David about the compass
response: David looks at you uncertainly. "I'm not sure I know what to tell you."
action: You ask David about the map
response: You describe the map to David, and he frowns, perplexed. "I think I might be able to help with that, or at least make a suggestion. It would help if I could see the map for myself."
action: You show the map to David
response: (first taking the indecipherable map from the burlap sack)
David leans forward to peer at the map. "Oh, dear. You say this purports to be a map of the swamp? I can see how little use it will be in its present state. Plainly, something is exerting a force on it to render it illegible. And I think both you and I can guess....

"What you must understand is that the entity responsible for this has only a very limited form of power - until a certain ceremony is performed, that is. What power it possesses is focussed through certain physical objects. Have you seen the figurines carried by those who have gathered here? Of course you have. I showed you mine earlier.

"My best guess," David says, "-and I suppose you'll have to accept on faith my assurance that I've researched the matter in some detail, though not, of course, with reference to your current predicament - is that a certain malign entity is focussing its energy through these little statues in order to render the map illegible. The entity is determined to keep you here, you see, until ... until later this evening. It knows the value that the map may have to you. Nor, I regret to say, is this optical illusion likely to be the only obstacle it throws in your path.

"The only way to get the map to behave itself is surely to destroy all of the figurines. Of course, getting them away from their owners won't be easy. I'd be happy to give you mine. But here we encounter a further difficulty. You can't touch them. It's quite impossible. So you see, you don't have a usable map, so you're not going anywhere, so it would be not only pointless but suicidal for me to give you my own little horror, even if you could take it, which you can't."
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, a green-eyed figurine, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a black-eyed figurine, some fire tongs, a sketchbook, a screwdriver, a poker, a stone bracelet, and a gold locket), and an indecipherable map. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You take the black figurine with the tongs
response: You pick up the black-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.

"I'm feeling a bit tired," David says. "If you'll forgive me, I may want to close my eyes for a minute or two."
action: You take the poker
response: (first putting the indecipherable map in the burlap sack to make room) Taken.
action: You throw the black figurine
response: What do you want to throw it at?
action: David
response: (first putting the poker in the burlap sack to make room, then trying to take the black-eyed figurine from the fire tongs)
As you reach out to touch the black-eyed figurine, you have the momentary sensation that it has lunged at you and snapped at your fingers with its teeth. Obviously, it couldn't actually have moved - could it? But a shaft of intense pain shoots up your arm, and you recoil as quickly as if you had put your hand in an open flame.
action: You take the black figurine with the tongs
response: You're already holding something in the the fire tongs.
action: You show it to David
response: (the fire tongs)
David nods. "My figurine. Yes. But have you figured out a way to handle it? I could put it in a container for you, to be sure, but unless you can take it out again when you've carried it to the place where you plan to destroy it, for me to do so would be utterly pointless."

You hold up the fire tongs, and David's eyes widen. "Yes, yes! I believe that would work! At least you can carry it from place to place. What you'll do with it, ultimately - I don't think I want to know. Just a moment, I'll get it." He leans over to get the suitcase, wrestles it into his lap, and pops it open. With a certain tender reluctance, he sets the white-eyed figurine on the floor.
action: You take the white figurine with the tongs
response: You pick up the white-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: You put it in sack
response: (the white-eyed figurine)
Done.
action: You go west
response: "I wish you the very best of luck," David says softly. "You'll need it."

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Six (to the west) and Cabin Three (to the east). The croquet court continues north from here. To the south, a little slope ends at the watery edge of a swamp, and a path to the southwest leads toward a good-sized shed that stands at the edge of the water.
action: You go to the south
response: The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.

You find yourself wanting to hurry along, so as not to catch another glimpse, even out of the corner of your eye, of the terrible swamp-thing you saw - or imagined you saw - before.
action: You put it in incinerator
response: (the white-eyed figurine)
Putting things in the incinerator would only get them messy.
action: You look at the tongs
response: The tongs are made of wrought iron. They're shaped roughly like scissors or pliers, but they're about three feet long. They contain a white-eyed figurine.
action: Close vise
response: As you tighten the vise, the figurine begins to writhe. Its tiny arms and legs windmill frantically, its eyes bulge, and a terrible high keening sound escapes from it. You continue, remorseless. A moment later, with a loud crunching noise, the figurine shatters, and some harmless gray dust sifts to the floor.

When the other figurines see what you've done, they spring to life! They jump down onto the floor and start running around in aimless panic, shrieking in tiny, high-pitched voices and waving their arms.
action: You take green figurine with the tongs
response: The figurine is scurrying around so rapidly that it easily evades your attempts to catch it with the fire tongs.
action: You go downward
response: The cellar is low-ceilinged and grimy, with an irregular concrete floor and cobwebs that droop from the exposed rafters. The vague light comes from a couple of tiny windows and the door to the driveway. Along an inner wall is a workbench. The door to the driveway is to the west, a doorway opens eastward on absolute darkness, and a staircase against the north wall leads upward.

The vise contains a white-eyed figurine.
action: Close vise
response: As you tighten the vise, the figurine begins to writhe. Its tiny arms and legs windmill frantically, its eyes bulge, and a terrible high keening sound escapes from it. You continue, remorseless. A moment later, with a loud crunching noise, the figurine shatters, and some harmless gray dust sifts to the floor.
action: Go upwards
response: This flimsy wooden platform overlooks the cellar. Stairs lead downward to the west, and there's a door to the east.

You see a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, a green-eyed figurine, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a screwdriver, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an indecipherable map, a poker, and a black-eyed figurine) here.
action: You take the green figurine with the tongs
response: You pick up the green-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: You put figurine in the vise
response: (first opening the vise)
You turn the crank, and the jaws of the vise separate.

Done.
action: You go upwards
response: This flimsy wooden platform overlooks the cellar. Stairs lead downward to the west, and there's a door to the east.

You see a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a screwdriver, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an indecipherable map, a poker, and a black-eyed figurine) here.
action: You take the figurine with tongs
response: You pick up the black-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: Go upward
response: This flimsy wooden platform overlooks the cellar. Stairs lead downward to the west, and there's a door to the east.

You see a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a screwdriver, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an indecipherable map, and a poker) here.
action: You pry the barrel with the poker
response: (first taking the poker from the burlap sack)
You attempt to wedge the end of the poker under the edge of the lid, but there isn't enough space between the lid and the rim.
action: Poker in sack
response: fire tongs: Done.
poker: Done.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket and a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, an old shovel, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a screwdriver, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an indecipherable map, some fire tongs, and a poker). You're wearing your clothes.
action: You pry the barrel with shovel
response: (first taking the old shovel from the burlap sack)
You attempt to wedge the end of the old shovel under the edge of the lid, but there isn't enough space between the lid and the rim.
action: You pry the barrel with the screwdriver
response: (first taking the screwdriver from the burlap sack)
You insert the end of the screwdriver under the edge of the barrel lid and bear down. The edge of the lid pops up half an inch, so you move the screwdriver around to the other side and repeat the process. This time the lid pops free and drops to the ground.
action: You look in the barrel
response: In the barrel is a sticky, gooey mass of half-liquid road tar.
action: You examine the tar
response: The tar is black and smelly. Its surface glistens with an oily sheen.
action: You put the lid on the barrel
response: (first taking the tar barrel lid)
You fit the lid over the top of the barrel and bang it down with the heel of your hand. It fits snugly.
action: Go west
response: The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.

A black tar barrel is lying here.
action: Continue
response: You roll the barrel down the road.

A narrow, bumpy ribbon of blacktop runs east and west at this spot. To the south, a gravel driveway leads off through some tall bushes. Standing - or rather, leaning - next to the driveway is a sign that says, "Eternal Springs." The north side of the road is impassable due to a nasty-looking thicket of berry bushes.
action: You pry the barrel with the screwdriver
response: If you open the barrel here, the tar will pour out and make a mess. If there's a place where you might want a pool of tar, this surely isn't it.
action: You ask Tyrone about the figurine
response: When you mention the black figurine, Tyrone's eyes widen. "You been pokin' around some, ain'tcha? Mr. Beauregard, he got him one o' them nasty things up at the house. I seen it. I know what it is. It's pure evil, that's what it is. The man what carved 'em - there's more'n one of 'em, you know, I expect probably half a dozen - he done it a hundred years ago, maybe two hundred. He's dead now, Mr. Beauregard seen to that.

"What them little dolls is for, they go out in the world and find their way into the hands of people what want somethin' bad enough, you know? They gotta want it real bad, whatever it is. Then they don't mind what they gotta do to get it, see? Them as ends up with one, they's the congregation, in a manner o' speakin'."
action: You go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey wiggles her toes.
action: You ask Honey about the compass
response: Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

Honey leafs through the magazine. Either she didn't hear you, or she's pretending she didn't.

Honey licks her thumb and turns a page in the magazine.
action: You ask Honey about the figurine
response: "Hey, what's that in there?" You down point at the straw bag.

Honey hesitates, and then smiles. "That little old thing?" She picks it up out of the bag and cuddles it at her breast as if it were a baby - which is shocking, as it's a grotesquely ugly little statue. Its teeth are bared, its tongue protrudes, and its tiny jewel eyes glow a livid, mustard yellow. "I found it in an antique store, you believe that? It called out to me." After a lingering, thoughtful look at you, she tucks the figurine away again in the bag. "I shouldn't ought to be talkin' about that, though."
action: You examine Honey
response: Honey is in her early twenties, and quite glamorous in a trashy sort of Nashville way. She's wearing great big dark glasses, too much lip gloss, a wide-brimmed pink straw hat, and matching skin-tight shorts. She's lounging on the chaise longue in the sun, a large floppy straw purse yawning open beside her on the lawn, leafing idly through a magazine that, as well as you can judge from looking at it upside down, is devoted mostly to large photos of movie stars.

Honey tugs at a strap on her top.
action: You examine the purse
response: It would be impolite to show too much interest in Honey's oversize straw bag, but you sidle over and glance down at it casually. The bag appears to be crammed with a variety of necessities, among which you glimpse a carved black figurine. It looks a little like a doll, but not really. It's quite fearsomely ugly.

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: You take the tongs
response: Taken.

Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
action: You take the figurine with the tongs
response: It would be rude to fish things out of Honey's bag while she's sitting here watching.

Honey yawns ostentatiously and goes back to reading her magazine.
action: You go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard points at where Honey is sunbathing on the lawn. "Quite a little heifer, ain't she? Course, you wouldn't know."
action: You examine the wasps
response: The evil-looking yellow insects (being a city girl, you aren't sure whether they're wasps or hornets) are flying in and out of a large nest constructed of dried mud, which is tucked up under the eaves of the porch.

"Wish I had me a seegar," Beauregard says wistfully. "Summer afternoons just ain't the same since I gave up them seegars."
action: You hit the nest with poker
response: Disturbing the wasps would be a really, really bad idea.
action: You ask Phelps about Honey
response: Having been taught good manners, you can't quite bring yourself to ignore Phelps, so you nod to him and mumble a hello.

He smiles at you and nods heavily. "You enjoyin' our balmy Southern weather, darlin'?"

When you mention Honey Hartwell, Beauregard sighs heavily. "She is a sight for sore eyes, and that's the truth."
action: You ask Phelps about the nest
response: "You worried about them wasps, sweet pea? They won't bother you none."

Beauregard belches, and doesn't apologize.
action: You ask Phelps about the Aunt
response: "This useta all be prime farm land, once," Beauregard says, waving his arm. "We grew us a fine crop o' leaf. Was you sayin' somethin'?"

Beauregard beams at you in a slimy, sweaty way.
action: You ask Phelps about David
response: "You're just a regular little chatterbox, ain'tcha?"

"I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
action: You ask Phelps about the cigar
response: "I hope I git up to see New York sometime," Beauregard says irrelevantly.

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You ask Phelps about the tobacco
response: Beauregard stifles a yawn. "Gettin' time for my afternoon nap, but I'm just too keyed up this afternoon to sleep."
action: You ask Phelps about the sleep
response: Beauregard beams benignly at you. "You are just the cutest little thang. I can't get over it."

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You ask Phelps about the Cocoa
response: Beauregard pulls his gaze back from the lawn. "Was you sayin' somethin', sweet pea?"

Beauregard belches, and doesn't apologize.
action: You ask Phelps about maid
response: Beauregard shows his teeth in a grimace that he probably thinks is a smile. "You're gonna look so cute in that white dress!"

Beauregard smacks his lips. "That young lady from Nashville, now - she's quite somethin', ain't she?"
action: You ask Phelps about the handkerchief
response: Beauregard beams benignly at you. "You are just the cutest little thang. I can't get over it."

Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
action: You go east
response: Phelps turns away from you, scratches himself, and goes back to gazing out across the lawn.

As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.
action: You pry the steps with the poker
response: The porch steps is not something you can pry.

Honey licks her thumb and turns a page in the magazine.
action: You ask the Aunt about the figurine
response: Hesitantly you bring up the subject of the little black statues. "Have you been nosing around in my things?" Aunt Caroline says sharply. "Well, don't. Not if you know what's good for you."
action: Search clothes
response: (Aunt Caroline's clothes)
You lift a couple of garments to peek beneath them, and decide there's really nothing useful or interesting in the drawer.
action: You examine the bed bathroom
response: The bed looks sort of lumpy, and the pillow is flat and undoubtedly hard. A threadbare brown coverlet is spread over the bed.
action: Close top
response: Closed.

You see nothing on the bed near the bathroom.
action: Near the door
response: On the bed near the door is a white dress.
action: You examine the pillow
response: Which pillow do you mean, the bed near the door, or the bed near the bathroom?
action: EXITS
response: The only obvious exit leads southeast to the lawn.
action: You go southeast
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey curls a strand of hair around her little finger.
action: You dig the ditch
response: You glance at the ditch and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
action: You ask the boys about the compass
response: "Hello again," you say, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm back."

"Was she gone?" the smaller boy says. "I din't notice."

Trying to be casual, you ask the boys whether they might be willing to part with the compass they showed you. "Oh, that there's valuable," the larger boy says, scowling. "You got anything we'd want?"

"I know what you're thinking about," you retort, "and the answer is no! But how about if I bring you something to trade for it?"

"I'd take a million bucks for it," says the smaller, dirtier boy. "Or even a hundred bucks, I guess. In cash."

The large boy nudges his companion. "Hey, show her what we stole offa that Boy Scout!"

The smaller boy looks exasperated. "What does a girl care about that?"

"Nah, c'mon."

The smaller boy digs in his jeans pocket and hauls out a small hand-held compass, which he holds out to you - but not close enough that you could grab it. "Pretty nifty, hunh?" He closes his fist on the compass and jams it back into his pocket.
action: You ask the boys about the gold
response: "Do we look like the Encyclopedia Bittranica?" the larger boy says.

"They got any guys as good-lookin' as us back where you come from?" The larger boy runs his hand over his hair and sticks out his jaw. "I bet not."
action: Go east
response: Knowing the boys are likely to make fun of anything you say, you just turn and walk away without saying goodbye. As you walk away, you hear the boys snickering about something.

The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.
action: You go south
response: The gravel driveway runs behind the big house, which looms over you to the east. At the north end the driveway passes through a high hedge, and at the south it opens out into an area in front of a shack, where a dusty van is parked. A pair of low doors angles out from the foundation of the house at this spot.

A black tar barrel is lying here.

You see a dead possum here.
action: You go west
response: The upstairs hall, which extends eastward, widens here to form an odd-shaped space. It's too open to be called a room, but too functional to be called a hallway. An ironing board is set up in the northeast corner, and behind it a narrow, steep stairway ascends. There's a doorway to the north, a wide, massive closed door to the south, and a broad window on the west wall, beneath which is a box-shaped window seat.

Luisa is standing at the ironing board, ironing.
action: You ask Luisa about Cocoa
response: "Excuse me," you venture. "Are you ironing?" Of course she's ironing, you can see she's ironing. You're aware as the words tumble out of your mouth that it's a stupid question - but at least it's better than, "Excuse me, are you the maid?"

The woman looks up from her ironing board and levels a smoky gaze at you. "No, I'm dancing with Clark Gable." She doesn't look very friendly, that's for sure. "You're the girl," she goes on. "The one they brought. I'm Luisa. I work here, keep the house clean. I thought Mr. Beauregard didn't want you in the house, but now you're here, I guess it's okay. Just don't make no mess." She has a heavy Hispanic accent, but her words are not hard to understand.

You mention the cocoa mix in the kitchen, and Luisa nods. "Mr. Phelps, he likes his cocoa every afternoon. Much nicer than those stinky old cigars he used to smoke."
action: You tell Luisa about the fuse
response: You ask Luisa whether she knows one of the fuses in the fuse box is burnt out. "Oh, yeah," she says nonchalantly. "Happens all the time. I'll fix it later."
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an indecipherable map, a poker, and some fire tongs), a screwdriver, and an old shovel. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You pry the barrel with the screwdriver
response: You insert the end of the screwdriver under the edge of the barrel lid and bear down. The edge of the lid pops up half an inch, so you move the screwdriver around to the other side and repeat the process. This time the lid pops free and drops to the floor. Within moments, a thick, gooey mess of tar has flowed out into a shallow depression in the cellar floor.
action: You look in the barrel
response: In the barrel is a sticky, gooey mass of half-liquid road tar.
action: Olly olly oxen free
response: At first it seems your silly shouting will go unanswered, but then Lydia comes toward you from among the trees. "I hope you found everything we need," she says. "Show me what you've found. I can't wait to get away from here."
action: You show the map to Lydia
response: (first taking the indecipherable map from the burlap sack)
Lydia looks eagerly at the map, but then her face falls. "You showed me that before," she says. "We still can't read it."
action: You ask Lydia about the aunt caroline
response: You tell Lydia how your aunt brought you down here from New York for no apparent reason, and brought along this white dress for you to wear to some kind of supposed picnic. Lydia nods vigorously. "That's just like me with my cousin Jake. I guess he needed money more than anything. I think the horrid thing grants people's wishes. I guess it must have made Jake rich. I'll bet your aunt is the same way. I'll bet she wants something so much she's willing to let them - no, not let them, she's willing to help them kill you."
action: You go to the west
response: As you walk away, Lydia calls after you, "I'm going to hide now. Be sure to come back when you're ready for us to escape, and call 'olly olly oxen free.'"

You follow the path westward, back to Eternal Springs.

The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.

You find yourself wanting to hurry along, so as not to catch another glimpse, even out of the corner of your eye, of the terrible swamp-thing you saw - or imagined you saw - before.
action: You cry
response: You sniffle a little. It's not proving to be a good day, is it? But feeling sorry for yourself probably isn't going to help.
action: Go north
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey tugs at a strap on her top.
action: You cry
response: You sniffle a little. It's not proving to be a good day, is it? But feeling sorry for yourself probably isn't going to help.

Honey hums a little off-key tune to herself.
action: You ask Honey about the handkerchief
response: Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

Honey leafs through the magazine. Either she didn't hear you, or she's pretending she didn't.

Honey stretches languidly.
action: You ask Tyrone about the handkerchief
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

Tyrone spreads his hands. "You got me."
action: Continue
response: Tyrone shrugs. "None o' my concern, and that's the truth."
action: You go southwest
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

This may once have been a garden, but now it's just a final resting place for junk - lots and lots of junk - and nothing grows here but weeds. The falling-down shack stands (if that's the right word) north of here, its single square window looking out on the junk. The area where the van is parked is to the northeast, and the area behind the cabins is east. Off to the southeast stands the shed at the edge of the swamp.

The way westward is blocked by an improbably dense thicket of bramble-bushes.
action: Dig
response: What do you want to dig in?
action: Ground
response: (with the old shovel)
You have no reason to dig in that.
action: You open the window
response: There's no obvious way to do that. A quick inspection reveals that the screen is held firmly in place by half a dozen heavy screws.
action: You unscrew screen with the screwdriver
response: The screws are pretty tight, but with a bit of effort you're able to unscrew all but one of them with the screwdriver. The window screen is left dangling by one stubborn screw, but it's out of the way. Climbing in the window should be easy now.
action: You enter the window
response: This cluttered, low-ceilinged little room is obviously lived in. There's a rumpled bed against one wall and a table littered with stuff. The door is to the east and the window to the south.

Hanging from one wall is a large, fearsome-looking ebony mask.
action: You examine the mask
response: The hand-carved ebony mask is larger than a human face, and its oval tapers to points at the top and bottom. The expression on the face is solemn and hostile. Dominating the face are the eyes, which are wide, round, and glaring. As you move around the little room, you can't escape the eerie sensation that the eyes are turning to watch you.
action: You look at the table
response: The table is old and paint-stained, and one leg is a little crooked. The table is littered with an assortment of stuff. No, make that a mound. Your first impulse is to dismiss it as junk, but that would be an insult to the man who lives here. These are his possessions - probably all he owns. Lying diagonally across the junk is a fishing pole.
action: You look at the pole
response: The pole is thin, flexible, and about seven feet long. It's the kind you've seen in old illustrations in books like The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. It doesn't even have a reel for reeling the line in and out - but there is a line, which is attached to the tip of the pole and dangles free.
action: You examine the bed
response: The bed is sagging and rumpled, as if it has been slept in for years by someone large and heavy.
action: You look under the bed
response: As you start to, the mouth of the mask opens and it emits a horrible howling noise! Looks like Tyrone has set up a voodoo burglar alarm. You stand silent and tense with your fingers crossed, hoping nobody heard the noise. After a minute, you relax. It seems you got away with it ... once.
action: You keep going
response: Once again, the mask sets up its horrible howl. A moment later the door bursts open and Tyrone seizes you firmly by the arm. "So, we got ourselves a sneak thief," he says.

You try to squirm out of his grip. "Ow, you're hurting me!" But he's much stronger than you, and from the look in his eyes, he isn't about to be sweet-talked.

He drags you outside, slams the door, and finally releases you. "Look here," he says. "I know you're just a kid. And I expect you're lookin' around for somethin' that might help get you outta the fix you're in. So I ain't gonna whop you upside the head, though maybe I ought to. But that stuff in there's mine, you understand? See you leave it alone. Now run along." Without another word, he goes back to working on the van.
action: Go south
response: This may once have been a garden, but now it's just a final resting place for junk - lots and lots of junk - and nothing grows here but weeds. The falling-down shack stands (if that's the right word) north of here, its single square window looking out on the junk. The area where the van is parked is to the northeast, and the area behind the cabins is east. Off to the southeast stands the shed at the edge of the swamp.

The way westward is blocked by an improbably dense thicket of bramble-bushes.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, the key to Cabin One, a little white pill, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a mystery by John Dickson Carr, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, a poker, and some fire tongs), a screwdriver, an old shovel, and an indecipherable map.
You're wearing your clothes.
action: Go south
response: This may once have been a garden, but now it's just a final resting place for junk - lots and lots of junk - and nothing grows here but weeds. The falling-down shack stands (if that's the right word) north of here, its single square window looking out on the junk. The area where the van is parked is to the northeast, and the area behind the cabins is east. Off to the southeast stands the shed at the edge of the swamp.

The way westward is blocked by an improbably dense thicket of bramble-bushes.
action: You give Carr to Honey
response: (first taking the mystery by John Dickson Carr from the burlap sack) Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

Honey pats her fingers over her lips, politely stifling a yawn. "You found a storybook, that's nice. You want to read me a story? On second thought, don't bother. I'm not in the mood."

Honey hums a little off-key tune to herself.
action: Go west
response: As you walk away, Honey goes back to reading (if that's the right word) her magazine. As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You give Carr to Phelps
response: "I want to talk to you," you say to Beauregard.

His eyes widen mildly. "So talk, then."

When he sees the book, Beauregard smiles benignly. "I see you found my old mysteries," he says. "I don't do a lot of readin' myself, not no more, but I'll bet your aunt would be keen to look at that, her bein' a mystery writer and all."

Beauregard points at where Honey is sunbathing on the lawn. "Quite a little heifer, ain't she? Course, you wouldn't know."
action: You go to the east
response: Phelps turns away from you, scratches himself, and goes back to gazing out across the lawn.

As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: You give Carr to the Aunt
response: Aunt Caroline is in the bathroom, and the door is closed.
action: You ask Aunt about Carr
response: Talking through the bathroom door, you mention to Aunt Caroline that in the bookcase in the house you saw some first editions by John Dickson Carr. The door pops open and Aunt Caroline's head pops out. Then the rest of her slides out, leaving the bathroom door narrowly ajar. "Rubbish," she declares. "You saw no such thing."
action: You show Carr to the Aunt
response: Triumphantly you hold up the copy of The Four False Weapons. Aunt Caroline's squinty eyes widen, and she practically tears the book from your hands. "Let me see that. It can't be. No, it is. You say you got this in the house? And there are more like it?"

You nod.

Without another word, Aunt Caroline makes a beeline for the door of the cabin. But then, struck by a thought, she turns back. She slips into the bathroom for a moment and emerges holding something, pressing it tight against her as if it were a baby. Hiding whatever it is from you with her body, she sidles into the closet. You hear a clicking noise. A moment later she emerges from the closet and strides out the door.
action: You open the aunt suitcase
response: Aunt Caroline's suitcase seems to be locked.
action: Unlock aunt suitcase
response: (with the key to Cabin One)
(first taking the key to Cabin One from the burlap sack)
The key to Cabin One doesn't fit the lock.
action: Go east
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads north, back to cabin five.
action: You pry the aunt suitcase with the poker
response: (first putting the old shovel in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the poker from the burlap sack)
You have a go at wedging the poker under the lid of the suitcase, but it's too tight a fit. After a few moments of mounting frustration, it occurs to you that maybe you ought to just haul off and hit the silly thing.
action: You hit the aunt suitcase with the poker
response: You haul off and smite the suitcase a mighty blow with the poker. In response, the shiny brass lock emits a tiny sproinggg. Quite possibly you've broken the lock.
action: You open aunt suitcase
response: Opening Aunt Caroline's suitcase reveals a red-eyed figurine.
action: You take the red figurine with tongs
response: (first putting the indecipherable map in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the fire tongs from the burlap sack)
You pick up the red-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: Go west
response: The bathroom is barely big enough to turn around in. There's a narrow shower stall, a minuscule, rust-stained sink above which is a cracked, flyspecked mirror, and a commode. The towels stacked on the rack are thin, frayed at the edges, and probably none too clean. A tiny window provides a very little air.

The door leads eastward.

You see a fat white candle here.
action: You examine the candle
response: The candle is a couple of inches in diameter, and perhaps three inches tall. Evidently Aunt Caroline has been burning it, but it's not burning now.
action: You show the candle to David
response: (first taking the fat white candle from the burlap sack)
David does not appear interested.
action: You go to the west
response: "Goodbye for now," David says.

Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.

You're standing between Cabin Six (to the west) and Cabin Three (to the east). The croquet court continues north from here. To the south, a little slope ends at the watery edge of a swamp, and a path to the southwest leads toward a good-sized shed that stands at the edge of the water.
action: Go east
response: The cellar is low-ceilinged and grimy, with an irregular concrete floor and cobwebs that droop from the exposed rafters. The vague light comes from a couple of tiny windows and the door to the driveway. Along an inner wall is a workbench. The door to the driveway is to the west, a doorway opens eastward on absolute darkness, and a staircase against the north wall leads upward.

A black tar barrel is lying here.

You see a tar barrel lid and a pool of tar here.
action: You take the red figurine with the tongs
response: You pick up the red-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: You put it in the vise
response: (the red-eyed figurine)
(first opening the vise)
You turn the crank, and the jaws of the vise separate.

Done.
action: Close vise
response: As you tighten the vise, the figurine begins to writhe. Its tiny arms and legs windmill frantically, its eyes bulge, and a terrible high keening sound escapes from it. You continue, remorseless. A moment later, with a loud crunching noise, the figurine shatters, and some harmless gray dust sifts to the floor.
action: Go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard belches, and doesn't apologize.
action: Fish
response: To do that, you'd need a fishing pole.

"I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
action: Go east
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: You ask Honey about the wasps
response: Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."

You casually mention spotting some wasps up under the eaves of the porch. Honey leaps up from the chaise longue. "Where? Where? Oh, my God! Up there? Thank you for tellin' me!" She rushes off toward her cabin.
action: You take the figurine with the tongs
response: You pick up the yellow-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: You go east
response: (first opening the door)

This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is standing open, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings and some onions here.
action: You close the door
response: (the door)
Closed.
action: You go north
response: The living room is not actually a small room, but it feels cramped because of the amount of thrift-shop furniture crammed into it.
There's a fireplace on the north side of the room, a window to the east, and a tall, heavy bookcase against the west wall. An archway leads back to the south.

Aunt Caroline is standing by the bookcase, absorbed in a book.
action: You examine Aunt
response: Your Aunt Caroline is a thin, pale woman of about 40, with mousy hair and a pinched face. Her glasses are perched, as usual, halfway down her nose. Her fingernails are gnawed. At the moment she's standing in front of the bookcase, lingering over the pages of a mystery novel.
action: You ask Aunt about the fingernails
response: "Where did you get that? No, don't tell me. I don't want to know."
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, a little white pill, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, and a poker), a screwdriver, the key to Cabin One, some fire tongs, and a fat white candle. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You ask Aunt about the novel
response: "You already know John Dickson Carr is one of my favorite authors," Aunt Caroline says. "I doubt you have anything fresh to contribute on that subject."
action: You ask Aunt about the candle
response: Aunt Caroline sets her glasses more firmly on her nose. "Put that back where you found it, at once."
action: You ask Aunt about the handkerchief
response: "Later, dear." Aunt Caroline's voice sounds thin and strained.
action: You examine the glasses
response: Aunt Caroline's glasses have heavy, blocky tortoiseshell frames. They're very unattractive.
action: You examine Luisa
response: Luisa is short and stocky, and has the olive complexion and broad, impassive features of a Mexican or Central American whose ancestry is strongly Mayan. Beneath an apron bulging with cleaning implements, her dress is gray and shapeless. Her long black hair, drawn back in a loose ponytail, is streaked with gray, and her dark eyes are not especially friendly. She's standing at the ironing board, ironing.
action: You examine the laundry
response: The big wicker basket is full of laundry.
action: Search basket
response: The laundry basket seems to be empty.
action: You ask Luisa about the handkerchief
response: "Hello, Luisa," you say.

She looks up from her ironing. "What do you want? You want somethin'?"

"That's not something I goin' to worry about," she says. "Not right now."
action: You ask Luisa about the laundry
response: "I got work to do," Luisa says. "I don' have time to talk to silly girls."
action: You open the door
response: The door seems to be locked. You hear a low snort behind you, as if Luisa is expressing contempt or amusement. But when you turn to look, she's placidly ironing, not looking at you at all.
action: You ask Luisa about the attic
response: "You're just a chatterbox, ain't you? Why don't you go away an' bother somebody else, eh?"
action: You look at the skirt
response: The doll's skirt is rather faded and threadbare. It may once have been a cheerful lemon yellow.
action: You take the skirt
response: With only a bit of fiddling, you're able to remove the skirt from the doll.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, a little white pill, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, and a poker), a screwdriver, the key to Cabin One, some fire tongs, a fat white candle, and a faded yellow scarf. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You cry
response: You try to summon up some tears, but can't quite manage it. On close inspection, though, the scarf is not exactly new. Maybe someone else's tears have already soaked into it.
action: Go downwards
response: The upstairs hall, which extends eastward, widens here to form an odd-shaped space. It's too open to be called a room, but too functional to be called a hallway. An ironing board is set up in the northeast corner, and behind it a narrow, steep stairway ascends. There's a doorway to the north, a wide, massive closed door to the south, and a broad window on the west wall, beneath which is a box-shaped window seat.

Luisa is standing at the ironing board, ironing.
action: You touch clown
response: Knowing more or less what may happen, and sort of dreading it but sort of hoping for it at the same time, you reach out and touch the clown. Again you have the sensation that his gloved hand is reaching toward you. A moment later, the music from the merry-go-round seems to swell, and you're dancing with him.

The bedroom dissolves in a smear of circus colors. When the clown releases you, you're in the place that isn't a place, surrounded by floating, swirling blobs of color, and the clown is standing directly in front of you.

Vague many-colored blobs of light float gently around you on all sides, and there are no shadows here. It's like being trapped inside a great big lava lamp, except that you can hear an off-key brass band oom-pahing not far away. The painted clown from the abandoned nursery, now no longer painted but quite real, is standing in front of you, gazing down at you with either pity or wry amusement (it's hard to tell which).
action: You give the scarf to the clown
response: "Hello again," you venture.

"Hello again yourself," the clown replies. "I was wondering if you'd come back."

You show the yellow scarf to the clown. "Is this - would this do what you want? I found it on an old doll in the attic."

He inspects it gravely. "Yes, yes, I remember now. I remember how the little girl used to sit and cry and wipe her eyes with it. I doubted you could find anything of the sort, but you've proved me wrong. May I?"

You hand him the scarf, and he wipes his face with the scarf. Sure enough, his greasepaint swabs right off. In a few moments he's transformed into an odd-looking but not unhandsome middle-aged man. (Could there be a faint resemblance to Hank? No, that's just your overactive imagination. Whatever Hank may have been, he certainly wasn't a clown.)

"Well? How do I look?" He smiles at you. Truth be told, he still looks very odd, what with the sticking-straight-up red hair, the wide green suspenders, and the big floppy shoes, but you politely tell him he looks very presentable.

"Well, then," he says, rubbing his hands together. "Only one more item to go - some nice strong bones so I'll be able to stand up straight when I go out walking in the world."
action: You go west
response: You take a few uncertain steps, but find that you're getting quite dizzy and a bit nauseous. In spite of yourself, you're drawn irresistibly back to stand next to the clown.

Once again the blobs of color start swirling faster and faster, making your head spin. Once again the clown reaches out toward you as if to hold onto you, but you're pulled down the whirlpool. A moment later you're back in the abandoned nursery, feeling as dizzy as before.

This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard.
action: You drop all
response: wooden bucket: Dropped.
burlap sack: Dropped.
screwdriver: Dropped.
key to Cabin One: Dropped.
fire tongs: Dropped.
fat white candle: Dropped.
action: PUT CANDLE, CABIN KEY, SCREWDRIVER IN SACK
response: fat white candle:
(first taking the fat white candle)
Done.

key to Cabin One:
(first taking the key to Cabin One)
Done.

screwdriver:
(first taking the screwdriver)
Done.
action: Leave
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, a little white pill, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, a fat white candle, the key to Cabin One, and a screwdriver), and some fire tongs here.
action: You take all
response: rat droppings: The rat droppings are of no conceivable use to you.

onions: The onions are of no conceivable use to you.

wooden bucket: Taken.
burlap sack: Taken.
fire tongs: Taken.
action: You fill kettle
response: You turn on the tap, fill the kettle, and turn off the tap again.
action: You look at the kettle
response: The old-fashioned tea kettle has a long spout. It's rather dented. By sloshing it from side to side, you can feel that it's full of water.
action: TAKE MUG, ENVELOPE, TEASPOON
response: stained blue mug: Taken.
brown envelope: Taken.
teaspoon: Taken.
action: You examine the glass
response: The juice glass is about three inches tall, and an inch in diameter.
action: You open the fridge
response: Opening the refrigerator reveals an egg.
action: You examine the egg
response: It's an ordinary egg.
action: You turn on the stove
response: You switch on the burner beneath the kettle, and shortly the burner begins to glow with heat.
action: You open the envelope
response: You rip off one corner of the envelope, revealing a fragrant brown powder that's quite likely to be cocoa mix.
action: You put the Mix in mug
response: You empty the brown envelope into the mug.
action: You put the envelope in the sack
response: Done.

The kettle whistles merrily as steam escapes from it.
action: You pour the water into mug
response: You need to be holding the kettle in order to do that.

The kettle whistles merrily as steam escapes from it.
action: You pour the water into the mug
response: You pour steaming hot water from the kettle into the mug, where it swiftly dissolves the cocoa powder, producing a mug of hot cocoa.
action: You turn off stove
response: You switch off the electric burner.
action: You put the pill in the mug
response: (first taking the little white pill from the burlap sack)
You drop the pill into the mug, where it swiftly dissolves in the steaming cocoa.
action: You look at mug
response: The mug is large, thick-handled, blue, and stained with the residue of years of beverages. It contains some hot cocoa.
action: You go east
response: The screen door screeches metallically as you open it.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.
action: You give the mug to Phelps
response: "I want to talk to you," you say to Beauregard.

His eyes widen mildly. "So talk, then."

Beauregard accepts the mug of steaming cocoa from you with grave courtesy and slurps. He smacks his lips. "Just the way I like it - thank you kindly, little lady. Now why don't you run along and enjoy what's left of this fine summer afternoon?"
action: You ask Phelps about the doll
response: "I hope I git up to see New York sometime," Beauregard says irrelevantly.
action: You ask Phelps about Luisa
response: Beauregard pulls his gaze back from the lawn. "Was you sayin' somethin', sweet pea?"
action: You wait
response: Time passes...
action: You go east
response: Phelps turns away from you, scratches himself, and goes back to gazing out across the lawn.

As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.
action: You examine wasps
response: The wasps' nest is tucked up under the roof at one end of the porch. Quite a traffic of insects is flying in and out.

Honey wiggles her toes.
action: Go northwest
response: You're standing in the weed-infested remains of a small flower-bed.
The porch railing is directly above you, almost close enough to reach, and the lawn is back to the east. Only a few feet away, on the porch, Beauregard Phelps is leaning back on the couch, snoring.
action: You search Phelps
response: Beauregard Phelps is too far away.
action: You go north
response: The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

On the stove is a tea kettle. The cupboard contains a juice glass.
action: You go to the east
response: The screen door screeches metallically as you open it. Beauregard Phelps makes a snorting noise, sits up a little straighter on the couch, rubs his eyes, and yawns ferociously. "My goodness! Must of dozed off for a minute there, but you woke me up." He smiles at you vaguely.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: Go up
response: The railing would probably come off if you tried to climb up. That would make a lot of noise, which would attract attention. Besides, you might easily fall and break your tailbone.
action: You jump
response: You jump a little, and land back where you started.
action: You take bucket
response: You pick up the bucket.
action: You go southeast
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey hums a little off-key tune to herself.
action: You go west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly. Beauregard Phelps makes a snorting noise, sits up a little straighter on the couch, rubs his eyes, and yawns ferociously. "My goodness! Must of dozed off for a minute there, but you woke me up." He smiles at you vaguely.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You jump over the steps
response: You can't jump over that.

Honey stretches languidly.
action: You look at the steps
response: The broad flight of steps leads up to the porch. The planks are badly warped and split, and the gray paint that was applied to them in some remote past is sticking up in thick curling chips.

Honey curls a strand of hair around her little finger.
action: You go to the west
response: As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly. Beauregard Phelps makes a snorting noise, sits up a little straighter on the couch, rubs his eyes, and yawns ferociously. "My goodness! Must of dozed off for a minute there, but you woke me up." He smiles at you vaguely.

The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.

The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.

Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.
action: You sit on the couch
response: You're not eager to get that close to Beauregard Phelps.

Beauregard points at where Honey is sunbathing on the lawn. "Quite a little heifer, ain't she? Course, you wouldn't know."
action: You sit on the floorboards
response: You can't sit on that.

"I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
action: You examine the window
response: The window is on the wall behind the ratty beige couch, almost directly above Beauregard Phelps's spotty bald head.

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: You open the window
response: To do that, you'd have to lean directly across Beauregard Phelps, and he might grab you.
action: Wait
response: Time passes...

"Wish I had me a seegar," Beauregard says wistfully. "Summer afternoons just ain't the same since I gave up them seegars."
action: You wait
response: Time passes...

Beauregard belches, and doesn't apologize.
action: You wait
response: Time passes...

Beauregard beams at you in a slimy, sweaty way.
action: You wait
response: Time passes...

Beauregard smacks his lips. "That young lady from Nashville, now - she's quite somethin', ain't she?"
action: You wait awhile
response: Time passes...

Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
action: Wait
response: Time passes...

Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
action: Wait
response: Time passes...

"I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
action: You go west
response: As you reach for the screen door, Beauregard Phelps smiles at you in a slimy way. You smile back and get ready to run, but it seems he's no longer quite so interested in visiting with you as he was earlier. You're able to reach the door and open it without interference. The screen door screeches metallically as you open it.

The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.

After you go through the screen door, it closes behind you.
action: You look through the door
response: Which door do you mean, the long glass door in the clock, or the screen door?
action: You cut the door
response: What do you want to cut it with?
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, a fat white candle, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, and some fire tongs), a teaspoon, and a wooden bucket. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You look through it
response: Through the east window you can see the porch and the lawn. Through the south window you can see the cabins.
action: You open it
response: The window is stuck. You strain to lift it, but it won't budge.
action: You examine the window
response: The window looks out on the porch, and beyond that the lawn.
action: You examine the window
response: The window overlooks the cabins to the south.
action: You look through the window
response: Most of the view out the window is obscured by trees that stand against the house. Through the trees you can glimpse a little of the two-lane blacktop that runs past Eternal Springs.
action: Go north
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead south, back to the upstairs hall; and west, to the closet.
action: You open the window
response: You glance at the window and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
action: You go to the south
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads southeast to the lawn.
action: You climb the railing
response: The railing looks quite flimsy. It would probably pull loose and make a lot of noise.
action: You examine Phelps
response: He's leaning back on the couch on the porch, eyes closed, mouth wide open, snoring as loud as a locomotive. His pants pocket is sagging open.
action: You examine the pocket
response: Phelps's trousers provide plenty of fabric to cover the lower part of his considerable bulk. They're khaki-colored and held up by suspenders. The pockets are sagging open, possibly because of the relaxed way he's half-reclining on the couch.
action: You look in the pocket
response: His trousers are too far away for you to reach them.
action: Go southeast
response: (first moving off of the wooden bucket)

This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
action: You show the candle to Tyrone
response: (first taking the fat white candle from the burlap sack)
Tyrone shakes his head. "Oh, honey, you carryin' a heavy load, ain'tcha? Wish I could lighten it some."
action: You go to the south-east
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, to the kitchen; south, to the area behind the cabins; east, to the north end of the croquet court; west; northeast, back to the lawn; northwest, to the gravel driveway; southwest, to the garden of junk; and in, to in the van.
action: You ask Tyrone about the mask
response: "Hello, Tyrone," you say.

"Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"

You consider asking Tyrone about the ebony mask - but he doesn't know you've been inside his shack, and maybe it's better that way.
action: You ask Tyrone about the voodoo
response: Tyrone spreads his hands. "You got me."
action: Go south
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

The open area behind the western row of cabins is thinly carpeted with scruffy, dusty weeds. A large, rusted incinerator stands in the middle of the open space. A scraggly tree has set down roots quite close to the leftmost of the three cabins whose rear walls form a barrier to the east.

To the south is the shed at the edge of the swamp. You can go north to the area in front of the run-down shack, where the motel's dusty van is parked. The overgrown, junk-strewn garden beside the shack is to the west.
action: Go upward
response: From this perch in the midst of the scraggly tree, you can't see much. The area behind the cabins is obscured by foliage. However, you're quite close to the rear wall of Cabin Four, and have a close view of the cabin's bathroom window, which is open.
action: You look in the window
response: The bathroom looks ordinary enough. Beyond the open bathroom door, a man is sitting on the bed, hunched over a laptop computer.
action: You examine man
response: The man is intent on what he's doing with the computer.
action: You ask Luisa about the matches
response: As you start to speak, Luisa scowls at you irritably. "Why don't you go outside and play?"

"Oh, that." Luisa shrugs. "It ain't none of my business."
action: You turn the arrow to the sun
response: The arrow on the device is already pointing straight at the sun.
action: You look at the clock
response: The grandfather clock stands as stiff and still as a tombstone, except that within it a brass heart ticks as the pendulum swings back and forth behind the long glass door. The clock face is numbered using Roman numerals, to which a pair of ornate old-fashioned brass hands (rather bent and tarnished) are pointing. If the clock is to be believed, it's now 5:41.
action: You examine the face
response: Which face do you mean, the snapshot, or the clock face?
action: Clock face
response: The clock face, which is behind glass, has the usual Roman numerals in the usual positions, and a pair of ornately curlicued brass hands. If the clock is to be believed, it's now 5:41.
action: You examine the hands
response: The brass hands might once have been well polished, but by now they're splotchy with bits of corrosion. The hands point to the hour of 5:41.
action: You take the hands
response: You can't have those; they're part of the grandfather clock.
action: You drop all
response: burlap sack: Dropped.
teaspoon: Dropped.
fat white candle: Dropped.
action: You put the skeleton in the grate
response: The skeleton is not something that can be put through the grate.

A finger bone drops off of the skeleton's hand. No, carrying it around like this just isn't going to work.
action: You put the mat in the grate
response: (first trying to take the straw mat)
If you pick up the mat now, what's on it will slide off. You might try rolling it up.
action: You open mat
response: Before unrolling the mat, you need to put it down. Otherwise, there's no telling what might happen to what's in it.
action: You put the mat on the table
response: The rolled-up straw mat is too large for the shallow table.
action: Go south
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north; east, back to the alcove; and in, to the dumbwaiter.
action: Smell bed
response: The bed smells disgusting.
action: You examine the dresser
response: The chipped, warped chest of drawers looks like it's about a hundred years old, and has been rejected as junk by every antique shop in the state of Mississippi. It stands against the west wall - crookedly, because one front leg is visibly shorter than the other. The top is littered with a scatter of stuff.
action: You examine the stuff
response: The stuff on the dresser is about what you'd expect - a couple of hairbrushes full of greasy gray hair and dandruff, a chipped saucer with some paper clips and thumbtacks in it, and some pecan shells. There's nothing else of interest among the stuff on the dresser.
action: You move the bed
response: The bed is too heavy.
action: You look through the peephole
response: Through the peephole you can see Luisa standing at her ironing board, ironing.
action: Go outside
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, and some fire tongs), a teaspoon, and a fat white candle here.
action: You take all
response: rat droppings: The rat droppings are of no conceivable use to you.

onions: The onions are of no conceivable use to you.

burlap sack: Taken.
teaspoon: Taken.
fat white candle: Taken.
action: You put the candle and the spoon in the sack
response: fat white candle: Done.
teaspoon: Done.
action: Go south
response: The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

On the stove is a tea kettle. The cupboard contains a juice glass.
action: You go west
response: The closet is small and pretty much empty. Set in one wall is a little metal door about a foot high, which is open. The bedroom is to the east.

You see some toast crumbs here.
action: Go west
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads east, back to the dreary bedroom.
action: You look at the table
response: The old wooden table is a small, square, utilitarian surface, rather battered and with one crooked leg.
action: You examine the appliances
response: The appliances include the sink, the stove, and the refrigerator. To interact with them, you need to refer to them singly.
action: You examine the sink
response: The sink is lined with a mottled crust of scum. A faucet is mounted above it.
action: You drop all
response: burlap sack: Dropped.
action: You open the slab
response: The slab is already open.
action: Go east
response: A square-cut channel, too broad to jump and seemingly bottomless (though in the dim light it's hard to be certain) stretches from north to south here. Spanning it is a narrow ribbon of silver, barely wide enough to walk on. The ribbon shimmers slightly, as if it's made of oily light. The walls of close-fitting gray stone were obviously made by human hands - or at least, by hands of some sort.

An open doorway leads west, and the silver bridge affords a slightly vertiginous path to the east.
action: Go east
response: You step lightly and carefully across the narrow silver bridge. As you reach the far end, a sizzling, crackling noise behind you makes you whirl and look back. The bridge is evaporating at your heels into a drift of silver sparks. The sparks spin, dimming, into the abyss. In a moment the bridge is gone.

A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.
action: You go north
response: This large room, which smells cloyingly of incense, is luxuriously furnished in an style that you'd probably be able to identify if you hadn't been daydreaming so much during World History. Possibly it's Aztec, Mayan, Incan, or even Egyptian. Straw mats hang from the walls, painted with elaborate designs in red and black. A heavy cabinet stands against the east wall. The bronze door is to the south, and daylight spills through an open archway to the north.

The heavy wood cabinet contains a wooden staff, a golden cape, and a golden helmet.
action: You wear the cape
response: (first taking the golden cape)
Okay, you're now wearing the golden cape.
action: Wear helmet
response: (first taking the golden helmet)
Okay, you're now wearing the golden helmet.
action: Go east
response: Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.
action: You look at the statue
response: The statue has wide, glaring eyes that glitter a deep red, outstretched hands with fearsome claws, and a grimacing mouth lined with pointed teeth. Looking at it sets your heart tapping in your chest.
action: You take the mat
response: You've already taken a mat. No need to collect the lot.
action: You go to the north
response: This little balcony overlooks a small but well-maintained formal garden dotted with fruit trees. Looming over the garden to the east is an imposing, windowless building whose heavy, close-set stone pillars suggest Egypt or Ancient Rome. An open archway to the south leads back into the chamber, and a steep flight of stairs leads down into the garden.
action: You go south
response: A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.
action: You go south
response: The passage from the north opens out here on a balcony overlooking a jarringly prosaic scene. Half a dozen men wearing camouflage combat fatigues and black berets are lounging around a long table, smoking cigarettes and talking in low voices. The men are armed with what look like automatic rifles. Fortunately, they don't seem to have noticed you. A stairway leads down from the balcony into the middle of the room.
action: You go to the east
response: The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.
action: Go east
response: The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the east end. The only way you can go is back to the west.
action: Go east
response: Behind you, to the west, is the imposing edifice of the building, which is broken here by a row of arches. To the east a shallow flight of stairs at least fifty feet wide glides down to the near edge of what appears to be a slum. Mud-brick hovels, some thatch-roofed and some topped with red ceramic tile, are crammed together in a cityscape that stretches to the horizon. Brown-skinned, black-haired people are moving in and out among the nearer structures; they don't seem to have noticed you yet, but you're very visible. Clearly, this is not a safe place to linger.
action: Go downwards
response: For a moment you consider venturing out into the slum - but it would take you days to explore it, and the local people could hardly fail to notice the blond stranger. No, whatever you hope to gain in this strange place surely lies in the building behind you.
action: Wave staff
response: As you wave the staff, a low hum emanates from a couple of footrest-sized blocks at the edge of the chasm. A band of light leaps out across the abyss, and in a moment the shimmering silver bridge is restored.
action: You examine the mat
response: The mat is quite large - at least five feet wide, and six or seven feet long. At the moment it's rolled up.
action: You examine the dagger
response: The dagger has a wicked-looking slim, curved blade nearly a foot long, and a black leather hilt.
action: You look at the table
response: The scarred old wooden table is both taller and shallower than a normal table - about four feet high and no more than a foot deep. On the shallow table are a purple-eyed figurine and a curved dagger.
action: You open the mat
response: You unroll the mat, revealing the skeleton.
action: You take the skeleton
response: Taken.

The ligaments holding the skeleton's larger bones together are starting to stretch like rubber bands.
action: You roll it
response: You roll up the mat.
action: You put the mat in grate
response: The rolled-up straw mat is too large to fit through the opening.
action: You open mat
response: You unroll the mat.
action: You look at the mat
response: The mat is quite large - at least five feet wide, and six or seven feet long. It's painted with an elaborate and somewhat unnerving design in red and black.
action: Leave
response: This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.

Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.

You see some rat droppings, some onions, and a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, some fire tongs, a fat white candle, and a teaspoon) here.
action: You take all
response: rat droppings: The rat droppings are of no conceivable use to you.

onions: The onions are of no conceivable use to you.

burlap sack: Taken.
action: You put it in sack
response: Okay, you're no longer wearing the stone bracelet.

Done.
action: You ask Luisa about the figurines
response: As you start to speak, Luisa scowls at you irritably. "Why don't you go outside and play?"

Luisa's attention is on her ironing. She seems not to have heard you.
action: You ask Luisa about the ghost
response: "You're just a chatterbox, ain't you? Why don't you go away an' bother somebody else, eh?"
action: You ask Luisa about the swamp
response: When you mention the swamp, Luisa shakes her head slowly and heavily. "There's bad things out there in the swamp. Things that bite you, suck out your blood. Don' even think about going swimming out there. I wouldn't even go out there in a boat. It might tip over, then where would you be? You tell me that."
action: You ask Luisa about Hank
response: Luisa's attention is on her ironing. She seems not to have heard you.
action: You ask Luisa about Tyrone
response: Luisa shrugs. "He's all right. He treats me all right."
action: You ask Luisa about the dagger
response: "That's not something I goin' to worry about," she says. "Not right now."
action: You ask Luisa about the device
response: "That funny circle thing in the office," you say to Luisa. "The thing with all the mirrors. What is it, anyhow?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. It belong to Mr. Beauregard, that's all.
I seen letters like that on some old things when I was a little girl, but not in a long time. He got a bracelet with some letters like that on the stones, too, you know? One time I seen him put the bracelet on the thing in the office an' turn it. The sun was coming in the window so bright it almost blinded me, like it was flashing a rainbow on the mirrors."
action: You show the sketchbook to Luisa
response: (first taking the sketchbook from the burlap sack)
When she sees the book, Luisa says sternly, "You put that back in the bookcase where it belongs."
action: You touch clown
response: The clown reaches out and takes your hand, the merry-go-round's tinkly music swells, and you're spun out of the upstairs bedroom into that other place.

Vague many-colored blobs of light float gently around you on all sides, and there are no shadows here. It's like being trapped inside a great big lava lamp, except that you can hear an off-key brass band oom-pahing not far away. The painted clown from the abandoned nursery, now no longer painted but quite real, is standing in front of you, gazing down at you with either pity or wry amusement (it's hard to tell which).
action: You give the mat to clown
response: "Hello again," you venture.

"Hello again yourself," the clown replies. "I was wondering if you'd come back."

The clown giggles. "I might have a use for a thing like that," he declares. "Oh, yes, truly I might. I just can't think right at this moment what use it might be."
action: You take the skeleton
response: Taken.

The skull sags sideways onto your shoulder, giving you a nasty start. On close inspection, you find that the skull is awfully close to dropping free of the backbone.
action: You give the skeleton to the clown
response: You gesture at the skeleton. "Do you think these bones are what you need?"

The clown inspects the skeleton gravely. "I do believe they'll serve. Where did you - no, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Whoever these belonged to doesn't need them anymore, that's all that matters."

He picks up the skeleton. First he clasps it to him, so that it looks as if he's planning to dance with it. (The music is still oom-pahing away in the background.)  But then he ... it's hard to say exactly what he does with the skeleton. It looks a bit like putting on a pair of pajamas, except sort of inside out. It's as if the pajamas were putting on the person, somehow. First he steps on the skeleton's feet, and somehow the feet are inside his, and then the legs, and then the rest. In a moment the skeleton is entirely gone.

The clown jumps up in the air and clicks his heels together. "Oh, I feel wonderful! So much more solid! You've done it - you've brought me everything I need to be a real person. I never doubted you for a moment, you know. I knew you'd do it." The clown digs down into one of the capacious pockets in his baggy trousers, produces the gold coin, and solemnly hands it to you. "You see? I've kept my end of the bargain, haven't I? Spend it wisely, young lady. Now, if you'll forgive me, I really must be going. I've so much to see!

"Perhaps we'll meet again someday," he adds. "I'd like that. I do hope you'll stay safe until then. The world - what little of it I've seen so far, which is very little indeed - seems quite full of dreadful dangers. I do hope you'll be very careful! Farewell, then."

The clown bows to you, and then turns and walks away with a kind of proud, sauntering stride, the spangly tails of the coat swaying behind him. As he goes, the blobs of color swirling around you begin to dissolve. In a few moments you're back in the upstairs bedroom - and the wall where the clown was painted is blank!

You rush to the window and look out. A figure is just ducking out of sight around the corner of the house - a figure with red hair and a coat that seems to shimmer in the sun. He turns and waves, and then he's gone.

This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round.

You see a straw mat here.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: You look at the coin
response: The gold coin is about the size of a silver dollar. It has a striding Goddess of Liberty on the front, and an eagle flying across a rising sun on the reverse. It's dated 1907.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: Go west
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads north, back to the upstairs hall.

The merry-go-round falls silent and the little horses stop moving.
action: You go to the south
response: (first opening the door)

The furnishings in the bedroom are about what you'd expect - a rumpled bed whose sour odor permeates the room and a dresser with a scatter of stuff on top. There's a wide archway to the east and an imposing-looking door in the north wall. The square hatch by which you first entered the room is set into the east wall at the northeast corner.
action: Go east
response: This narrow, windowless room is lit only by the daylight that spills through the open doorway to the west, which leads back to the bedroom. A narrow table stands against the north wall, and at the foot of the table, in the east wall, a metal grate is set in the baseboard.

In the east wall, where you might ordinarily expect to see a door to another room, is a massive slab of stone, both broader and higher than a door. In the upper center of the slab is a circular carving.

On the shallow table are a purple-eyed figurine and a curved dagger.

As you're wondering what to do next, Beauregard Phelps rushes up to you and grips your arm so hard you cry out in pain. "So," he says. "We got ourselves a sneak thief. Luisa tells me you got into my room. Well, no harm done. But I reckon we'll have to put you away where you can't get in no more mischief between now and the time for the ritual."

You try to protest that it's all a silly mistake, but he only laughs. Not letting his grip slacken for an instant, he drags you down to the cellar of the house and thrusts you into a big shipping trunk. The lid slams shut, and you're left curled up in a painful knot in total darkness.

A long time passes - you're not sure how long. When you hear footsteps approaching, and voices, a flush of hope jolts through you. The trunk lid springs open and you're hauled out. You start to protest about your treatment, but then you see that Aunt Caroline is carrying the white dress, and your words freeze in your throat. Your aunt's mouth is set in a grim line.

While the others watch, ignoring your shame, she and Honey Hartwell force you to take off your clothes and put on the white dress. Then the whole party, with you in the middle crying and trying to get away, marches out to the meadow where the block of stone is standing. "It's almost time now," Phelps says, his voice bubbling with an undercurrent of glee.

As sunset arrives, there's a thickening in the air, a sense of a foul presence gathering. Shortly you can see it hovering above the stone block, a huge form that grows darker and more solid by the moment. The monster's fangs and claws are exactly like those on the little figurines, but far larger and more terrifying.

The demon reaches toward you, its thick red tongue writhing out obscenely. Your aunt and a well-dressed man whose aftershave smells, nauseatingly, of mint force you down on your back on the stone block, and Beauregard Phelps stalks ponderously forward, raising his curved dagger high and bringing it down toward your breast in a swift slashing arc.
action: Wait
response: Time passes...

Luisa comes down the stairs, moving slowly and heavily. Not looking at you, she resumes her ironing.
action: You ask Luisa about jessie
response: Luisa snuffles and wipes her eyes. "I don't want to talk about that," she says hoarsely.
action: You ask Luisa about doll
response: "The doll in my room, you mean?" Luisa glares at you. "What do you been sneaking in my room for? Well, it don't matter. I don't got nothing anybody'd want to steal. That doll, it used to belong to the little girl I told you about, the one who lived here, Jessie. After she wasn't here no more, I took the doll upstairs so I could look at it sometimes and not have to go in the room with the clown."
action: You put the teaspoon and candle in the sack
response: teaspoon: Done.
fat white candle: Done.
action: You ask Luisa about the doll
response: As you start to speak, Luisa scowls at you irritably. "Why don't you go outside and play?"

"The doll in my room, you mean?" Luisa glares at you. "What do you been sneaking in my room for? Well, it don't matter. I don't got nothing anybody'd want to steal. That doll, it used to belong to the little girl I told you about, the one who lived here, Jessie. After she wasn't here no more, I took the doll upstairs so I could look at it sometimes and not have to go in the room with the clown."
action: You go east
response: This narrow, windowless room is lit only by the daylight that spills through the open doorway to the west, which leads back to the bedroom. A narrow table stands against the north wall, and at the foot of the table, in the east wall, a metal grate is set in the baseboard.

In the east wall, where you might ordinarily expect to see a door to another room, is a massive slab of stone, both broader and higher than a door. In the upper center of the slab is a circular carving.

You see a straw mat (on which is a skeleton) here. On the shallow table are a purple-eyed figurine and a curved dagger.
action: You take the figurine with the tongs
response: As you reach toward the figurine, the dagger rises into the air, guided by no hand that you can see, and slashes at your face! You back away quickly.
action: You put the kettle on the table
response: (first taking the tea kettle)
The tea kettle is too large for the table.
action: You put the kettle in sink
response: The tea kettle is too large for the sink.
action: You take the kettle
response: You are already carrying the tea kettle.
action: You turn on the stove
response: You switch on a burner, and shortly the burner begins to glow with heat.
action: Light candle
response: What do you want to light it with?
action: You put the candle on the stove
response: Putting things on the stove while it's switched on would be dangerous.
action: You turn off stove
response: You switch off the electric burner.
action: You turn on the stove
response: Turning on the stove while there are things on it other than the kettle could be dangerous.
action: You ask Aunt about glasses
response: "We can talk about that later," Aunt Caroline says firmly.
action: You take the glasses
response: You glance at the glasses and instantly dismiss them as unimportant.
action: You go to the west
response: The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

You see a tea kettle here. The cupboard contains a juice glass.
action: You go northwest
response: Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.

The gravel driveway runs behind the big house, which looms over you to the east. At the north end the driveway passes through a high hedge, and at the south it opens out into an area in front of a shack, where a dusty van is parked. A pair of low doors angles out from the foundation of the house at this spot.

You see a dead possum here.
action: You ask the boys about the gap
response: "Hello again," you say, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm back."

"Was she gone?" the smaller boy says. "I din't notice."

The larger boy sticks a finger in his ear and twirls it around, wrinkling his face in concentration. "You hear a skeeter?" he says.
"I thought I heard some buzzin'."
action: You ask the boys about the brambles
response: "What you askin' us for?" the smaller boy says. "Bet you know all the answers already."

The boys make loud kissing noises at you.
action: You ask the boys about the road
response: The boys both shrug. "Don't mean nothin' to us," one of them says.

The boys edge toward you casually.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, some fire tongs, and a fat white candle) and a teaspoon. You're wearing your clothes.
action: Go east
response: Knowing the boys are likely to make fun of anything you say, you just turn and walk away without saying goodbye. As you walk away, you hear the boys snickering about something.

The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.
action: You ask Tyrone about the oil
response: You mention the squeaky screen door to Tyrone. "Can't you oil it or something, it's driving me crazy."

He only shrugs. "Gotta get the van runnin' right now. I'll get to it later. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. You don't want it makin' a racket, just don't go in or out through there."
action: You ask Tyrone about the batteries
response: You ask Tyrone whether he might know where there are some fresh batteries for the flashlight. He presses his lips together, looking exasperated - but at himself, not at you. "I was supposed to pick some up, you know, yesterday when I was in town, but I plumb forgot. Sorry, honey."
action: You examine the blood
response: The shallow pool of blood in the middle of the floor is spattered and smeared, as if something has been dragged through it. Flies are circling above it.
action: You take it
response: Picking up a pool of blood would be impractical, pointless, and really creepy too.
action: You touch the blood
response: Getting blood on your fingers, especially the blood of someone you just met ... what a dreadfully repulsive thought!
action: You tell David about the clown
response: A little diffidently - you're pretty sure he'll think you're crazy - you tell David that you had a sort of hallucination when you were upstairs in the house, a vision in which you were dancing and talking with a clown that had been painted on the wall.

David listens solemnly. "Not even the wickedest force can wholly banish the good," he says.
action: You tell David about Lydia
response: You consider telling David how you restored Lydia to life - but could he possibly believe the story? You're not sure you believe it yourself, and you saw it with your own eyes.
action: You examine the locket
response: The gold locket is an old-fashioned oval no bigger than the last joint of your little finger. It's suspended from a delicate gold chain. Inside the locket is a tiny snapshot of a woman's face.
action: You tell David about the statue
response: "The figurines ... ah, yes. Nasty little things, aren't they?" David frowns at his knees. He looks so sad you want to hug him, but you don't.

"They have some sort of magical linkage," he says, "to the actual demon to whom the sacrifice is to be made. They make their way out into the world somehow - I have no idea how, but I do believe they're not quite as inert as they may appear - and attach themselves to certain individuals who are predisposed to want what they have to offer.

"Once the attachment is formed, no one else can touch the figurine. It's quite impossible."
action: Go north
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead south; east; and west, back to the south end of the croquet court.
action: Look around
response: The interior of this rustic motel room looks pretty much like the interior of Cabin Five, except that it's a mirror image, with the door to the croquet court on the west side. Bedspreads the color of mud cover the twin beds. The tacky wood-grain wallpaper is starting to peel, and years of grime have been ground into the carpet. A bucolic, sentimentalized painting of some Negroes picking cotton adds to the oppressive sense that you've somehow slipped back into an earlier, less civilized era.

Curtains the color of old pea soup hang beside the window to the right of the door. A chipped and scarred dresser stands against the east wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room.

David is sitting here in his wheelchair.
action: You examine the bedspreads
response: The stuff in the cabin is really not very interesting.

"I'm feeling a bit tired," David says. "If you'll forgive me, I may want to close my eyes for a minute or two."
action: You go to the east
response: (first trying to open the door of Cabin Two)
As you try to slip past Reverend Gillespie so as to get into his cabin, he inserts himself directly in your path. "There's nothin' in there you need to concern yourself with, young lady."
action: You examine the tongs
response: The tongs are made of wrought iron. They're shaped roughly like scissors or pliers, but they're about three feet long.
action: You take the bedspread
response: Which bedspread do you mean, the bed near the door, or the bed near the bathroom?
action: You go northwest
response: You're standing in the weed-infested remains of a small flower-bed.
The porch railing is directly above you, almost close enough to reach, and the lawn is back to the east. Only a few feet away, on the porch, Beauregard Phelps is leaning back on the couch, snoring.

You see a wooden bucket here.
action: Go southeast
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the kitchen; south, to the area behind the cabins; east, to the north end of the croquet court; west; northeast, to the lawn; northwest, to the gravel driveway; southwest, to the garden of junk; and in, to in the van.
action: Hint
response: (Warning: Some people don't like built-in hints, since the temptation to ask for help prematurely can become overwhelming when hints are so close at hand. If you're worried that your willpower won't hold up, you can disable hints for the rest of this session by typing HINTS OFF. If you still want to see the hints now, type HINT.)
action: Hint
response: 1. General Questions
2. In the House
3. The Figurines
4. Beyond the Stone Slab
5. The Great Escape

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 2
response: 1. How can I get the things the clown is asking for?
2. How can I get the telephone to work?
3. I can't control when I leave the place where the clown is.

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 3
response: 1. So what's the deal with the evil figurines?

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 5
response: 1. How do I get the key to the boat shed?
2. How can I defeat the ebony mask?
3. How can I get my hands on a compass?
4. How do I get the stuff the clown is asking for?
5. How do I get the large, fragile item out of Beauregard's bedroom?
6. How do I get a map of the swamp?
7. How do I fix the map so it's readable?

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 2
response: How can I defeat the ebony mask?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

The mask is a sort of voodoo burglar alarm. [1/12]

If you try to pick up anything that belongs to Tyrone, the mask will see you and howl. [2/12]

You can't prevent Tyrone from hearing the mask. [3/12]

So you need a way to prevent it from seeing what you're doing. [4/12]

You don't have a cloak of invisibility. [5/12]

But you might be able to figure out a way to cover the mask's enormous, staring eyes. [6/12]
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, some fire tongs, and a fat white candle), a teaspoon, a wooden bucket, and a juice glass. You're wearing your clothes.
action: You put the bucket over the mask
response: What do you want to put it in?
action: Empty sack
response: You pour out the stuff that's in the burlap sack.
action: 2
response: How can I defeat the ebony mask?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

The mask is a sort of voodoo burglar alarm. [1/12]

If you try to pick up anything that belongs to Tyrone, the mask will see you and howl. [2/12]

You can't prevent Tyrone from hearing the mask. [3/12]

So you need a way to prevent it from seeing what you're doing. [4/12]

You don't have a cloak of invisibility. [5/12]

But you might be able to figure out a way to cover the mask's enormous, staring eyes. [6/12]
There are two ways to do it. [7/12]
You need something gooey - something that can be applied to the eyes and will stick. [8/12]
action: 2
response: How can I defeat the ebony mask?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

The mask is a sort of voodoo burglar alarm. [1/12]

If you try to pick up anything that belongs to Tyrone, the mask will see you and howl. [2/12]

You can't prevent Tyrone from hearing the mask. [3/12]

So you need a way to prevent it from seeing what you're doing. [4/12]

You don't have a cloak of invisibility. [5/12]

But you might be able to figure out a way to cover the mask's enormous, staring eyes. [6/12]

There are two ways to do it. [7/12]

You need something gooey - something that can be applied to the eyes and will stick. [8/12]
Once you've lured Aunt Caroline out of the bathroom, you'll find that she left a white candle behind. [9/12]
And fortunately, it's a very hot day. [10/12]
If you knead the candle, it will turn into a soft lump of wax. [11/12]
Put the wax on the mask's eyes. (You can also put some road tar from the barrel in the juice glass and apply it to the eyes with the spoon, but that's a lot more trouble.)  [12/12]

[The End]
action: Go south
response: This may once have been a garden, but now it's just a final resting place for junk - lots and lots of junk - and nothing grows here but weeds. The falling-down shack stands (if that's the right word) north of here, its single square window looking out on the junk. The area where the van is parked is to the northeast, and the area behind the cabins is east. Off to the southeast stands the shed at the edge of the swamp.

The way westward is blocked by an improbably dense thicket of bramble-bushes.

You see a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, some fire tongs, and a fat white candle here.
action: You put all in the sack
response: teaspoon: Done.
wooden bucket: Done.
juice glass: Done.

pill bottle:
(first taking the pill bottle)
Done.

faded photographs:
(first taking the faded photographs)
Done.

flashlight:
(first taking the flashlight)
Done.

croquet hoop:
(first taking the croquet hoop)
Done.

partially crumbled piece of burnt toast:
(first taking the partially crumbled piece of burnt toast)
Done.

bad fuse:
(first taking the bad fuse)
Done.

sketchbook:
(first taking the sketchbook)
Done.

stone bracelet:
(first taking the stone bracelet)
Done.

gold locket:
(first taking the gold locket)
Done.

old shovel:
(first taking the old shovel)
Done.

indecipherable map:
(first taking the indecipherable map)
Done.

poker:
(first taking the poker)
Done.

key to Cabin One:
(first taking the key to Cabin One)
Done.

screwdriver:
(first taking the screwdriver)
Done.

brown envelope:
(first taking the brown envelope)
Done.

fire tongs:
(first taking the fire tongs)
Done.

fat white candle:
(first taking the fat white candle)
Done.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a teaspoon, a wooden bucket, a juice glass, a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, some fire tongs, and a fat white candle). You're wearing your clothes.
action: You knead it
response: With a few moments of squeezing, you're able to reduce the candle to a warm, soft lump of white wax. If the weather weren't so hot, you never would have been able to do it.
action: You put the wax on the eyes
response: By pressing and smoothing the wax with your thumbs, you're able to completely cover the mask's eyes with a thick layer of white wax.
action: You look under bed
response: You kneel to look under the bed, and see something far back against the wall. Reaching and groping, your fingers close on a square-cornered object, which you draw forth. It proves to be a cigar box.
action: You open the box
response: Opening the cigar box reveals a fish hook.
action: Go northeast
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, to down the road; south, to the north end of the croquet court; west, to the porch; northwest, to the flower-bed; and southwest, back to the front of the shack.

Honey wiggles her toes.
action: Fish
response: While Phelps snoozes peacefully, you extend the fishing pole and dangle the hook over his gaping pants pocket. Delicately you lower the hook. As you feel it snag on something, it occurs to you - a little too late - that you're more likely to hook the fabric of his pants than anything that's in the pocket. But no, this time you're in luck. When you gently lift the end of the pole, the gleam of brass tells you that you've successfully hooked the key that was in his pocket. Hardly daring to breathe, you draw the pole back across the porch railing.
The key remains hooked until you reach out and grab it. Success! Clutched in your sweaty palm is a shiny brass key.
action: You put the pole and the key in the sack
response: fishing pole (to which a fish hook has been tied): Done.
shiny key: Done.
action: 1
response: So what's the deal with the evil figurines?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

There are three things you'll need to learn about the evil figurines. [1/5]
First, how many of them are there? [2/5]
Second, how can they be handled? [3/5]
Third, what should be done with them? [4/5]
These questions are discussed in separate lists of hints. [5/5]

[The End]
action: 5
response: 1. How do I get the key to the boat shed?
2. How can I get my hands on a compass?
3. How do I get the stuff the clown is asking for?
4. How do I get the large, fragile item out of Beauregard's bedroom?
5. How do I get a map of the swamp?
6. How do I fix the map so it's readable?

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 4
response: 1. How do I open the other six doors in the Room of Seven Doors?
2. How can I transport the skeleton safely?
3. How do I find a route among the stone tunnels?
4. Help! I'm lost in the stone tunnels!

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 1
response: 1. What am I supposed to be doing?
2. I seem to be stuck. Is it possible to reach a point where the game is unwinnable?
3. Okay, I got the figurines out of Cabins Two and Four, but now I'm stuck. What do I need to do next?

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 2
response: I seem to be stuck. Is it possible to reach a point where the game is unwinnable?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

If you're feeling stuck, the most likely explanation by far is that you haven't figured out what you need to do next. There will be times when you can take any of a number of different actions to move the story forward, and other times when your options will be narrowly circumscribed. [1/8]

That said.... Yes, it's possible to make the game unwinnable. [2/8]

The easiest way to get in trouble is to drop things in places where you can't retrieve them later. Most of the time you'll be given a warning when you do this - if you throw things into the swamp, for instance. But in a few specific situations, you may not receive any warning. [3/8]

During the course of the story, some of the other characters will be moving around. They might, for instance, lock or unlock doors for reasons of their own. If you've just gained access to a new area (or, for that matter, if you've had free access to it ever since the beginning of the story), don't assume it will always remain accessible. [4/8]

Fortunately, there's no need to leave things behind. If you look around the outdoor area, you'll find a hefty burlap bag. This bag can contain almost anything (with one or two important exceptions). When you find an item that you think might be useful later, put it in the bag, and don't let the bag out of your sight. None of the other characters will ever notice the bag or ask what's in it. [5/8]

They'll be quite alarmed, however, if they see you carrying certain other things. In this type of situation, the character will have an immediate, obvious reaction. Typing 'undo' will let you backtrack to before the problem arose. [6/8]

There's also an important object that is quite fragile. If you pick something up and it seems to be in danger of falling apart, take the warning seriously. Put it down at once, and look for an alternate way to transport it. Once it falls apart, you're doomed. [7/8]

In addition, two puzzles require that you find a way to move a character other than yourself to another location temporarily. In both cases, you can do this only a few times before the character will balk and refuse to be coaxed or bamboozled anymore. You'll be given more tries than you strictly need - but if you haven't solved the particular problem before you run out of tries, you'll be completely deadlocked. So before you set another character in motion, think carefully about what you're hoping to accomplish while they're out of the way, and whether you have the resources you need to accomplish it. If they react to what you thought was an innocuous question by running off, you may want to use the UNDO command and wait until you know what you're hoping to accomplish before you ask that question again. [8/8]

[The End]
action: 6
response: How do I fix the map so it's readable?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

If you show the map to David or Tyrone, they may offer a hint or two. [1/6]

Some occult power is making the map unreadable. [2/6]

That power is involved in just about everything that's happening at Eternal Springs. [3/6]

In particular, the gathering this afternoon, for which the nasty little figurines were sent out as magical invitations. [4/6]

Getting rid of the figurines would probably diminish the power of the entity who is causing the map to squirm. [5/6]

The method by which you do that is discussed in a separate set of hints. [6/6]

[The End]
action: Go north
response: The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.

You see a tea kettle here.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a teaspoon, a wooden bucket, a juice glass, a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, some fire tongs, a fishing pole (to which a fish hook has been tied), and a shiny key) and a cigar box. You're wearing your clothes.
action: Go south
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads north, back to the upstairs hall.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: You touch clown
response: The clown reaches out and takes your hand, the merry-go-round's tinkly music swells, and you're spun out of the upstairs bedroom into that other place.

Vague many-colored blobs of light float gently around you on all sides, and there are no shadows here. It's like being trapped inside a great big lava lamp, except that you can hear an off-key brass band oom-pahing not far away. The painted clown from the abandoned nursery, now no longer painted but quite real, is standing in front of you, gazing down at you with either pity or wry amusement (it's hard to tell which).
action: You give it to the clown
response: "Hello again," you venture.

"Hello again yourself," the clown replies. "I was wondering if you'd come back."

You gesture at the skeleton. "Do you think these bones are what you need?"

The clown inspects the skeleton gravely. "I do believe they'll serve. Where did you - no, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Whoever these belonged to doesn't need them anymore, that's all that matters."

He picks up the skeleton. First he clasps it to him, so that it looks as if he's planning to dance with it. (The music is still oom-pahing away in the background.)  But then he ... it's hard to say exactly what he does with the skeleton. It looks a bit like putting on a pair of pajamas, except sort of inside out. It's as if the pajamas were putting on the person, somehow. First he steps on the skeleton's feet, and somehow the feet are inside his, and then the legs, and then the rest. In a moment the skeleton is entirely gone.

The clown jumps up in the air and clicks his heels together. "Oh, I feel wonderful! So much more solid! You've done it - you've brought me everything I need to be a real person. I never doubted you for a moment, you know. I knew you'd do it." The clown digs down into one of the capacious pockets in his baggy trousers, produces the gold coin, and solemnly hands it to you. "You see? I've kept my end of the bargain, haven't I? Spend it wisely, young lady. Now, if you'll forgive me, I really must be going. I've so much to see!

"Perhaps we'll meet again someday," he adds. "I'd like that. I do hope you'll stay safe until then. The world - what little of it I've seen so far, which is very little indeed - seems quite full of dreadful dangers. I do hope you'll be very careful! Farewell, then."

The clown bows to you, and then turns and walks away with a kind of proud, sauntering stride, the spangly tails of the coat swaying behind him. As he goes, the blobs of color swirling around you begin to dissolve. In a few moments you're back in the upstairs bedroom - and the wall where the clown was painted is blank!

You rush to the window and look out. A figure is just ducking out of sight around the corner of the house - a figure with red hair and a coat that seems to shimmer in the sun. He turns and waves, and then he's gone.

This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round.

You see a straw mat here.

The merry-go-round continues tinkling its wistful little tune.
action: You show the coin to the boys
response: "Hello again," you say, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm back."

"Was she gone?" the smaller boy says. "I din't notice."

You hold out the coin. "I found this. Would you take it as a trade for the compass?"

Both boys' eyes widen as they stare at the coin. "Gotta be a fake," the smaller boy says, but the other one nudges him hard and whispers harshly in his ear. You hear the scraps of a few words - "double eagle" and "stole it from Old Beauregard."

"Aw, okay," the smaller boy says. "We'll take it." In a moment the deal is done: The boys have the gold coin, and you have the compass.
action: You look at the compass
response: The compass is encased in blue plastic, and is about the right size to fit in the palm of your hand. Beneath the clear plastic cover is a round white piece of cardboard lettered with the letters N, E, S, and W. The needle quivers faintly as it points to the N.
action: 2
response: 1. How can I get the telephone to work?

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 1
response: How can I get the telephone to work?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

Calling the police would be a wonderful idea in the circumstances. Unfortunately, there's no way to get the telephone to work. [1/1]

[The End]
action: 3
response: 1. So what's the deal with the evil figurines?
2. How many of the evil figurines are there, and where will I find them?
3. How can I manipulate the figurines?
4. What do I need to do with the figurines?

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 3
response: How can I manipulate the figurines?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

You can't touch them yourself. And no one will help you. [1/5]
How might you be able to pick them up without touching them? [2/5]
No, you have no psychic powers. There are two physical objects that will do the job. [3/5]
You can pick up the figurines with either the fire tongs (which are in the living room, standing next to the fireplace) or the shovel. The command 'pick up figurine with tongs' works. When it comes to carrying them around, though.... [4/5]
The tongs and shovel can hold only one figurine at a time. You'll find it more convenient to carry them in your suitcase, or in the burlap sack. Putting them in a container has the added advantage that you won't risk anyone seeing you carrying one around. That would almost certainly be fatal. [5/5]

[The End]
action: 2
response: How many of the evil figurines are there, and where will I find them?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

Each member of the conspiracy that has gathered at Eternal Springs has a figurine. Not everyone you'll meet is a member of the conspiracy, however. [1/4]
Talk to the people you meet and observe their behavior. All of the conspirators but one are outsiders - recent arrivals. [2/4]
Tyrone is not part of the group, nor Luisa, nor the farm boys, nor Hank Slocum, nor Lydia. [3/4]
That leaves six people (some of whom you may not have met yet) - Beauregard Phelps, Aunt Caroline, David, Honey Hartwell, Reverend Gillespie, and Owens Mackenzie (the man in Cabin Four). The figurines can be distinguished from one another by eye color: one is red, one white, one black, one purple, and so on. [4/4]

[The End]
action: 3
response: 1. So what's the deal with the evil figurines?
2. How many of the evil figurines are there, and where will I find them?
3. How can I manipulate the figurines?
4. What do I need to do with the figurines?
5. Where will I find Aunt Caroline's figurine?
6. Where will I find Beauregard's figurine, and how can I get it?
7. Where will I find David's figurine?
8. Where will I find Honey Hartwell's figurine, and how can I get it? 9. Where will I find Owens Mackenzie's figurine?
10. Where will I find Reverend Gillespie's figurine?

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 6
response: Where will I find Beauregard's figurine, and how can I get it?

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

Beauregard Phelps's figurine is the only one that's in plain sight. [1/14]

He owns the house. Where do you suppose he sleeps? [2/14]

The figurine is in his bedroom (or rather, in the alcove off his bedroom), which is behind the locked door in the upstairs hall. [3/14]

The hints for getting through the locked door are in a separate list. Once you've accomplished that, you'll find that you have another problem. [4/14]

In order to acquire the figurine, you need to deal with the flying dagger that's guarding it. [5/14]

If you try to pick up the figurine (using the method described in a separate set of hints), the dagger will spring to life and get in your way. [6/14]

It won't actually succeed in cutting you. It's mainly a nuisance. There are two very different ways to deal with it. One is to capture it. [7/14]

You can't catch the flying dagger with your bare hands. [8/14]

Have you ever seen a knife-throwing exhibition? [9/14]

If you hold up a piece of wood, the dagger will impale itself and be stuck. [10/14]

There are two pieces of wood at Eternal Springs that you can use. [11/14]

One is the bucket. You'll find it near the boat shed. And somewhere or other you might find a loose floorboard. The command HOLD UP BOARD will work when the dagger is flying. [12/14]

If that's too much trouble, you can use the poker from the fireplace in the living room. [13/14]

Sneak up on the dagger. (Each time you leave the alcove it will lie down on the table.)  While it's lying there peacefully, hit it with the poker. That will kill it. Now you can get at the figurine. [14/14]

[The End]
action: You go to the south
response: This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round.

You see a straw mat here.
action: You put the shovel in the grate
response: (first taking the old shovel from the burlap sack)
The old shovel is too large to fit through the opening.
action: You ask Luisa about Jessie
response: As you start to speak, Luisa scowls at you irritably. "Why don't you go outside and play?"

Luisa snuffles and wipes her eyes. "I don't want to talk about that," she says hoarsely.
action: You go southeast
response: This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)

To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.

A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.

Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.

Honey hums a little off-key tune to herself.
action: You take the poker and the tongs
response: poker: Taken.
fire tongs: Taken.
action: You hit the dagger with the poker
response: You smite the dagger a mighty blow where it lies with an overhead swing from the poker. The steely clang sounds faintly like a whimper, and the dagger bounces a couple of times and then lies very still.
action: You take the figurine with the tongs
response: You pick up the purple-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: You put it in sack
response: (the purple-eyed figurine)
Done.
action: You take mat
response: If you pick up the mat now, what's on it will slide off. You might try rolling it up.
action: Roll mat
response: You roll up the mat, concealing the skeleton.
action: You take mat
response: (first putting the fire tongs in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the poker in the burlap sack to make room)
Taken.
action: You take the figurine with the tongs
response: (first taking the fire tongs from the burlap sack)
You pick up the purple-eyed figurine with the fire tongs.
action: You put it in the vise
response: (the purple-eyed figurine)
(first opening the vise)
You turn the crank, and the jaws of the vise separate.

Done.
action: Close vise
response: As you tighten the vise, the figurine begins to writhe. Its tiny arms and legs windmill frantically, its eyes bulge, and a terrible high keening sound escapes from it. You continue, remorseless. A moment later, with a loud crunching noise, the figurine shatters, and some harmless gray dust sifts to the floor.
action: You go west
response: The gravel driveway runs behind the big house, which looms over you to the east. At the north end the driveway passes through a high hedge, and at the south it opens out into an area in front of a shack, where a dusty van is parked. A pair of low doors angles out from the foundation of the house at this spot.

You see a dead possum here.
action: You examine the map
response: The piece of paper is creased and dog-eared. One edge is badly charred. The map is crudely drawn. The network of squiggles and scribbled legends seems to show the locations of a number of bayous, islands, and sandbars. Near one edge is an irregular little square marked "Eternal Springs." In another corner is a circle with an arrow pointing upward out of it; the arrow is marked "N."
action: You put the compass and the poker in the sack
response: compass: Done.

poker: The poker is already in the burlap sack.
action: You show the map to Lydia
response: (first taking the map of the swamp from the burlap sack)
When Lydia sees that the map is no longer squirming, she claps her hands. "Well done! But you still have to find the compass and the key to the boat shed. When you find those, come back here and show them to me, and we'll be ready to go."
action: You show the compass to Lydia
response: (first taking the compass from the burlap sack)
"Oh, that's wonderful! I'll bet you sweet-talked those nasty farm boys into giving it to you. Now all you need to do is find the key to the boat shed, and we can go."
action: You show the key to Lydia
response: Which key do you mean, the shiny key, or the key to Cabin One?
action: Shiny
response: (first taking the shiny key from the burlap sack)
"Oh, that's wonderful! That's the key to the boat shed, isn't it? So you have everything we need, right - the key, the compass, and the map. What are we waiting for? Let's go!"
action: You go west
response: Lydia walks along beside you. You follow the path westward, back to Eternal Springs.

The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.

You find yourself wanting to hurry along, so as not to catch another glimpse, even out of the corner of your eye, of the terrible swamp-thing you saw - or imagined you saw - before.

Lydia is standing close by.
action: Go west
response: Lydia walks beside you.

A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built, and there's a shiny new lock on the door.

You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.

Lydia looks at you expectantly.
action: You unlock the door with the shiny key
response: Unlocked.
action: Go south
response: (first opening the boat shed door)
Lydia trails along behind.

The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. There's also a narrow catwalk that runs along the west wall, to the southwest from where you're standing. At the end of the catwalk is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof.

Two boats are tied up here - a small rowboat on the west side of the dock and a much bigger and sleeker power boat on the east side. The far wall of the shed is a large door through which the boats must be meant to pass in and out. At the moment the door is closed.

Lydia takes a quick look around.
action: You close the door
response: You close the boat shed door.

Lydia looks around at the interior of the boat shed. "It's nice and shady in here," she says. "I'm not so used to the bright sunshine. I think it would be safer for me to wait here for you - I mean, if you have to go get anything else before we can leave. Do you think we'll need anything else? I'm trying to think if there's anything."
action: You lock it
response: That is not something you can lock.

"I hope we're almost ready to go," Lydia says. "What are we waiting for?"
action: You go to the east
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the front of the boat shed; south; and southwest.

Lydia gazes around nervously at the gloomy interior of the boat shed.
action: You go south
response: As you start in that direction, suddenly both of the boats erupt in boiling gouts of flame. The heat beats against your face, and you cover your face with your hands and stagger backward. Bitter smoke fills your nostrils, and even through your hands and eyelids you can see the seething flames.

But then the heat is gone, the blood-red light recedes. When you open your eyes, the boats haven't been consumed by fire. They're rocking serenely in the water, just as they were before.

Lydia cries out. "Did you see that? Oh, it's horrible. But I remember now. The same thing happened to me before - the first time I tried to steal a boat, back before they ... did what they did to me. That awful creature is trying everything it can to keep us from getting away.

"Now be quiet and let me think a minute. It's all so hazy, but I'm trying to remember. Somehow I made the horrid visions stop, so I could get in the boat." She fiddles with her hair as she frowns in concentration. "There was an old man, I remember now. An old colored man. He was very kindly. He ... he gave me a little cloth sack with some dried leaves in it. He told me, 'If you ever get so frightened you can't go another step, chew up one of these, it will give you heart.'

"I think - I'm not sure, but I think I hid that little sack somewhere around here. Or maybe not here, I don't think they had a shed for the boats then. It might have been in the house."

You tell her you can't imagine a little sack would still be wherever she left it all those years ago. It's bound to be long gone by now. She frowns in exasperation. "Don't be such a wet blanket. Let me think. I ... that's what it was. I hid in the cellar while they were all running around looking for me. I'm almost sure that's what I did. I found this little cranny I could crawl into, down in the cellar, and that's where I left the sack with the leaves. Well, stop looking at me like that. It won't hurt you to go look, will it? If the sack isn't there, we're as good as dead."

You tell her you'd rather she came with you. She might remember more when she sees the cellar. But she says, "No, I don't feel safe running all around in broad daylight. You go. They won't think anything if they see you. It's somewhere in the cellar, that's all I know. If it's anywhere, I mean."

Lydia kneels and dips her fingers in the water. "Ick!"
action: Go north
response: (first opening the boat shed door)

A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built, and there's a shiny new lock on the door.

You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.
action: You go north
response: As you're about to head toward the area at the front of Tyrone's shack, you happen to glance up from your study of the dirt and weeds just in time to notice that Reverend Gillespie and Aunt Caroline are standing in front of the shack with two of the armed men you saw earlier in the temple - or at least, two men who look a lot like them. The men have automatic rifles slung over their shoulders. Gillespie is waving his arms as he talks to them. They haven't looked in this direction yet, but clearly something bad is going on. If they see you (or, worse, Lydia), there's just bound to be big trouble.
action: Go east
response: With only a little effort, you're able to shimmy through the window feet-first and thump down on the floor of the bathroom.

The tiny, cramped bathroom features a narrow shower stall, a minuscule, rust-stained sink above which is a cracked, flyspecked mirror, and a commode. The towels stacked on the rack are thin, frayed at the edges, and probably none too clean. The small square window is open, but it provides no view and not much light either, as a tree has grown up quite close to the outside wall.

The door to the cabin is in the east wall.
action: Hint
response: 1. General Questions
2. In the House
3. The Figurines
4. Beyond the Stone Slab
5. The Great Escape
6. The Endgame

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 6
response: 1. Okay, I found the tunnel, but it's dark down there, and the flashlight is dead.
2. Now I'm back in the cellar, but I can't find the thing Lydia sent me for.
3. How can I open the big door at the south end of the boat shed?

Select a topic number, or press 'p' for the previous menu or 'q' to quit:
action: 1
response: Okay, I found the tunnel, but it's dark down there, and the flashlight is dead.

Press the space bar to display the next line, 'P' to go to the previous menu, or 'Q' to quit.

There are no more batteries for the flashlight. [1/5]
Another light source might be found near the entrance to the tunnel. [2/5]
You may have looked in the closet in Cabin Four earlier, and found nothing. Look again. [3/5]
action: Go south
response: The interior of the closet is a dim and cramped little box. It smells powerfully of mold.

You see a laptop computer here.
action: You turn on the computer
response: You can't see any on/off switch.
action: You examine the laptop
response: The miniature laptop is small, flat, rectangular, and pale gray. A little thumb-push thingie at the front of the lid allows it to be opened when it's shut.
action: You open it
response: You flip up the laptop's top.
action: You turn it on
response: You switch on the laptop. After a moment, its screen begins to emit a cheerful blue glow.
action: You look at the beams
response: The beams are holding up the uneven dirt roof of the tunnel.
action: You search the clutter
response: Prowling nervously among the dim and dusty shapes, you spot a darker patch in the wall. At first it seems to be only a shadow, but on closer inspection it turns out to be a hole in the wall that's just about big enough to crawl into. You never would have found it if Lydia hadn't told you to look for it.
action: You look
response: Deeper in the Cellar (standing in the spooky hole)
This side of the cellar is cluttered with large, dusty, cobwebbed objects, which are draped with soiled drop cloths. Most likely it's old furniture, but in the fitful light the clutter is deeply shadowed and rather ominous-looking. A large shipping trunk squats prominently at the front of the jumble of clutter. Though it's difficult to make out in the pervading gloom, there appears to be an even darker patch in the south wall, possibly the opening of a tunnel. The door to the better lit side of the cellar is to the west.
action: Search hole
response: As you grope around in the filth, your fingers close on a little cloth pouch!
action: You examine the pouch
response: The cloth pouch is small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. There's a drawstring around the mouth, with which the pouch can be opened and closed. It's closed.
action: Go outside
response: (the spooky hole)
Okay, you're no longer in the spooky hole.
action: Close laptop
response: You snap down the lid of the laptop, and the glow from its screen vanishes.
action: Go upwards
response: (first trying to open the trapdoor)
You hear the voices of several men almost directly overhead. They're arguing with one another. No way are you going to let them know you're down here!
action: You open the laptop
response: You flip up the laptop's top, and the cheerful blue glow of the screen shines forth.
action: You go south
response: Gillesipie, your aunt, and the armed men are still standing in front of the shack. They still haven't noticed you lurking here, but it wouldn't be safe to go any further north.
action: You go east
response: (first opening the door)
As you're about to waltz through the door at the top of the stairs, you hear loud voices on the other side - Honey Hartwell, sounding shrill, and the voices of men with Hispanic accents. They're talking about you! "She stole it and smashed it," Honey declares. "You have to find her before she gets away, or it's all spoiled!"
action: Go south
response: You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: You examine the twigs
response: The twigs are scattered in a random pattern.

Your face is itching because of the heat and dust.
action: You search the twigs
response: There's nothing unusual in the scatter of twigs.

A snake slithers away into the underbrush.
action: You look at the map
response: The piece of paper is creased and dog-eared. One edge is badly charred. The map is crudely drawn. The network of squiggles and scribbled legends seems to show the locations of a number of bayous, islands, and sandbars. Near one edge is an irregular little square marked "Eternal Springs." In another corner is a circle with an arrow pointing upward out of it; the arrow is marked "N."

The heavy scrawwkkk! of a crow is so loud it makes you jump.
action: You take the twigs
response: There's no reason to load yourself down with a mess of dry twigs.

Is it your imagination, or are the thorns larger than they were a minute ago?
action: Go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: Go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

You hear rustling, skittering noises in the depths of the thicket.
action: You look
response: You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Something is crawling on your pants. You brush it off hurriedly.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a teaspoon, a wooden bucket, a juice glass, a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, a fishing pole (to which a fish hook has been tied), and a poker), a cigar box, some fire tongs, a map of the swamp, a compass, a shiny key, a laptop computer (providing light), and a little cloth pouch. You're wearing your clothes.

You're not entirely sure you haven't lost your sense of direction.
action: You drop the pill bottle
response: (first taking the pill bottle from the burlap sack)
Better not drop anything in the thicket. If you do, you may never find it again ... and there's no telling what you might need before the afternoon is over.

You find yourself wondering whether trying to find a path through the thicket might have been a mistake.
action: You listen
response: You hear nothing out of the ordinary.

Something is crawling in your hair. You brush it off hurriedly.
action: You examine the twigs
response: The twigs are scattered in a random pattern.
action: Go north
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

A large black fly buzzes straight at your face, then zips away.
action: You examine the twigs
response: The twigs are scattered in a random pattern.

In a faint breath of breeze, the heavier branches of the thicket clack together like dried bones.
action: You move the twigs
response: Nudging the twigs around at random with your toe, you find that you've accidentally formed the shape of the letter P.

As you turn this way and that, searching for the right path, a vicious thorn that you hadn't noticed scrapes your forearm, drawing a bead of blood.
action: You examine the twigs
response: The twigs are arranged in the shape of the letter P.
action: Look around
response: You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter P.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

In a faint breath of breeze, the heavier branches of the thicket clack together like dried bones.
action: You go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Is it your imagination, or are the thorns larger than they were a minute ago?
action: You move the twigs
response: Nudging the twigs around at random with your toe, you find that you've accidentally formed the shape of the letter V.
action: You go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Something is crawling in your hair. You brush it off hurriedly.
action: You move the twigs
response: Nudging the twigs around at random with your toe, you find that you've accidentally formed the shape of the letter R.

You find yourself wondering whether trying to find a path through the thicket might have been a mistake.
action: Go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter R.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

A large black fly buzzes straight at your face, then zips away.
action: Go east
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter P.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Something is crawling on your pants. You brush it off hurriedly.
action: You go to the east
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: You move the twigs
response: Nudging the twigs around at random with your toe, you find that you've accidentally formed the shape of the letter U.

You hear rustling, skittering noises in the depths of the thicket.
action: You go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a random scatter of dried twigs.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

As you turn this way and that, searching for the right path, a vicious thorn that you hadn't noticed scrapes your forearm, drawing a bead of blood.
action: You move the twigs
response: Nudging the twigs around at random with your toe, you find that you've accidentally formed the shape of the letter W.

You hear rustling, skittering noises in the depths of the thicket.
action: You go to the south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter P.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: You go east
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter U.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Your face is itching because of the heat and dust.
action: Go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter W.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: Go east
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter V.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

The heavy scrawwkkk! of a crow is so loud it makes you jump.
action: Go east
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter W.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

You're not entirely sure you haven't lost your sense of direction.
action: You go to the west
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter U.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: Go north
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter W.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

A snake slithers away into the underbrush.
action: You go southeast
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter W.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

As you turn this way and that, searching for the right path, a vicious thorn that you hadn't noticed scrapes your forearm, drawing a bead of blood.
action: Go southwest
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter V.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

You're not entirely sure you haven't lost your sense of direction.
action: Go west
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter P.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: Go north
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter V.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: Go south
response: You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter V.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

A snake slithers away into the underbrush.
action: You go southeast
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter P.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

A large black fly buzzes straight at your face, then zips away.
action: You go to the southeast
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter P.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

The heavy scrawwkkk! of a crow is so loud it makes you jump.
action: Go southwest
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter R.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Something is crawling in your hair. You brush it off hurriedly.
action: You go to the west
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter V.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Is it your imagination, or are the thorns larger than they were a minute ago?
action: You go southwest
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter V.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

In a faint breath of breeze, the heavier branches of the thicket clack together like dried bones.
action: You go northeast
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter V.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: You go northwest
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter W.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Something is crawling on your pants. You brush it off hurriedly.
action: Go southeast
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead south, east down the road, and west to the road past the farm.
action: Go south
response: You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter P.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

You hear rustling, skittering noises in the depths of the thicket.
action: Go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter V.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

Your face is itching because of the heat and dust.
action: Go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter R.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.

You find yourself wondering whether trying to find a path through the thicket might have been a mistake.
action: You move the twigs
response: Nudging the twigs around at random with your toe, you find that you've accidentally formed the shape of the letter Z.
action: Go south
response: Stumbling and squirming among the brambles, you find that you've arrived in....

You're in the midst of a tangled thicket of thorny bramble-bushes. You have to edge sideways to avoid being impaled on the long, sharp, vicious-looking thorns, and it's hardly possible to stand up straight for fear you'll tangle your hair in them. Littering the ground is a scatter of dried twigs, which have been loosely nudged into a shape that resembles the letter Z.

Narrow, twisting paths lead off in all directions.
action: Go south
response: (first opening the boat shed door)

The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. There's also a narrow catwalk that runs along the west wall, to the southwest from where you're standing. At the end of the catwalk is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof.

Two boats are tied up here - a small rowboat on the west side of the dock and a much bigger and sleeker power boat on the east side. The far wall of the shed is a large door through which the boats must be meant to pass in and out. At the moment the door is closed.

Lydia is standing here.

Lydia whispers, "Hurry, hurry! I thought I heard something!"
action: You show the pouch to Lydia
response: "Oh, you found it! I'm so glad! Are there still any of the leaves in it? They must be all dried up by now. If there are any left, we should each eat one."

Lydia gnaws on a fingernail.
action: You open the pouch
response: Opening the little cloth pouch reveals two dry brown leaves.

Lydia says, "I wonder what the world is like now. When we get away, I want you to tell me everything."
action: You give the leaf to Lydia
response: (first taking the dry brown leaf from the little cloth pouch)
Lydia takes the leaf from you gratefully and nibbles at it, then stuffs it into her mouth and chews. "I haven't had anything to eat in a really long time," she says indistinctly. "This tastes sooo good!"
action: You eat the leaf
response: (first taking the dry brown leaf from the little cloth pouch)
You cram the leaf into your mouth and chew vigorously, nearly choking on the dry, dusty, bitter taste. You suffer a momentary spasm of fear - you don't really know Lydia at all. What if she's trying to poison you? But it's too late now, and anyway you feel you can trust her.
You swallow the last bits and cough to clear your throat.

Lydia gazes over at the big engine in the stern of the power boat and purses her lips thoughtfully. "I'm trying to remember something. Be quiet for a minute. Oh, that's what it was! Listen, listen, this is incredibly important! The first time, all those years ago, when I almost got away, what happened was, they came after me in a motorboat and brought me back, and you know what happened after that. It wasn't this boat, this one is a lot bigger and shinier, but the same thing will happen again if we don't do something.

"Isn't there anything you can think of? Maybe we could chop a hole in the bottom of it so it would sink."

You tell her you don't have an axe. "Anyway," you add, "chopping a hole would make a lot of noise. Somebody would be bound to hear."

"Well, there just has to be some way to do it! You're much cleverer than I am. You've got to think."
action: You look at the boat
response: Which boat do you mean, the power boat, or the rowboat?
action: Power boat
response: The power boat is freshly painted red and white, and is about twenty feet long, with a muscular-looking outboard motor mounted at the stern. The boat sits high in the water, its bow pointed south, toward the big door. You could probably scramble up into it from the dock.
action: You close the door
response: You close the boat shed door.
action: You go south
response: In the Boat Shed (standing on the dock)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Standing on the dock, you can step into the power boat that's tied up on the east side, or into the rowboat on the west side. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the north.

Lydia moves out onto the dock beside you and peers curiously into the boats.
action: You enter the motor boat
response: In the Boat Shed (standing in the power boat)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. The dock is to the west from here.

The power boat rocks gently. The controls on the dashboard in front of you are gleaming and incomprehensible. At the rear of the boat is mounted a large outboard motor.

Lydia is standing on the dock.
action: You look at the motor
response: The outboard motor is as big as a small refrigerator. It's mounted on the rear of the boat (which you have a vague idea is called the stern). On one side of the motor is a round chrome-covered cap about three inches in diameter. If you had to guess, you'd say it's the gas cap.
action: You open the gas cap
response: You unscrew the gas cap, revealing a round opening that must be the fuel intake pipe. The gas cap is attached to the motor by a short chain, from which it now dangles.
action: You fill bucket
response: (first taking the wooden bucket from the burlap sack)
You fill the bucket from the swamp.
action: You look at the pipe
response: The gas intake pipe is a small round opening that leads down into the innards of the outboard motor. It smells strongly of gasoline.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a teaspoon, a juice glass, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, a fishing pole (to which a fish hook has been tied), and a poker), a cigar box, some fire tongs, a map of the swamp, a compass, a shiny key, a laptop computer (providing light), a little cloth pouch, a pill bottle, and a wooden bucket (which contains some water). You're wearing your clothes.
action: You put the toast in the pipe
response: (first taking the partially crumbled piece of burnt toast from the burlap sack)
You can't put that in the gas intake pipe.
action: You put toast in the sack
response: Which sack do you mean, the little cloth pouch, or the burlap sack?
action: You search pipe
response: The gas intake pipe seems to be empty.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a teaspoon, a juice glass, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, a fishing pole (to which a fish hook has been tied), a poker, and a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast), a cigar box, some fire tongs, a map of the swamp, a compass, a shiny key, a laptop computer (providing light), a little cloth pouch, a pill bottle, and a wooden bucket (which contains some water). You're wearing your clothes.
action: You examine the power boat
response: The power boat is freshly painted red and white, and is about twenty feet long, with a muscular-looking outboard motor mounted at the stern. The boat sits high in the water, its bow pointed south, toward the big door. The power boat rocks gently. The controls on the dashboard in front of you are gleaming and incomprehensible. At the rear of the boat is mounted a large outboard motor.
action: You look at the controls
response: The dashboard of the power boat looks about as easy to operate as the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. There are more dials and knobs than you can count.
action: Go southwest
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads west, back to the dock.
action: Go west
response: The boat sways as you lever yourself up over the side and out onto the dock.

In the Boat Shed (standing on the dock)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Standing on the dock, you can step into the power boat that's tied up on the east side, or into the rowboat on the west side. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the north.

Lydia is standing here.
action: Go southwest
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, to the threshold of the boat shed; east, back to the power boat; and west.
action: You enter it
response: In the Boat Shed (in the rowboat)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. The dock is to the east from here.

The rowboat rocks and sways in a way that makes you feel just slightly ill. The boat has oarlocks on the sides. A pair of oars is lying in the bottom of the boat.

You see some oars here.

Lydia is standing on the dock.

Lydia climbs into the rowboat with surprising grace - it rocks only a little - and sits down beside you.
action: You examine the oars
response: The oars are lying in the bottom of the boat. They're made of wood, and look pretty much the way you'd expect oars to look.
action: Go east
response: The boat sways as you clamber up onto the dock.

In the Boat Shed (standing on the dock)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Standing on the dock, you can step into the power boat that's tied up on the east side, or into the rowboat on the west side. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the north.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

"I think I'll stay here and wait," Lydia says. "You won't be too long, will you?"
action: You go to the north
response: The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. There's also a narrow catwalk that runs along the west wall, to the southwest from where you're standing. At the end of the catwalk is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof.

Two boats are tied up here - a small rowboat on the west side of the dock and a much bigger and sleeker power boat on the east side. The far wall of the shed is a large door through which the boats must be meant to pass in and out. At the moment the door is closed.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia gazes around nervously at the gloomy interior of the boat shed.
action: Go north
response: (first opening the boat shed door)

A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built, and there's a shiny new lock on the door.

You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.
action: You look at the stuff
response: Bits of wood carvings, crumpled junk-food wrappers, small complicated metal gadgets that look like they came from disassembled cars and were disassembled further after they got here - it's all pretty depressing.
action: You search the junk
response: Poking around in the junk, you spot a length of rubber hose.
action: Go south
response: The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. There's also a narrow catwalk that runs along the west wall, to the southwest from where you're standing. At the end of the catwalk is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof.

Two boats are tied up here - a small rowboat on the west side of the dock and a much bigger and sleeker power boat on the east side. The far wall of the shed is a large door through which the boats must be meant to pass in and out. At the moment the door is closed.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia kneels and dips her fingers in the water. "Ick!"
action: Go east
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the front of the boat shed; south, to the dock; and southwest.

Lydia gazes around nervously at the gloomy interior of the boat shed.
action: You go southeast
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the front of the boat shed; south, to the dock; and southwest.

Lydia says, "I wonder what the world is like now. When we get away, I want you to tell me everything."
action: You enter the power boat
response: The power boat is too far away.

Lydia whispers, "Hurry, hurry! I thought I heard something!"
action: Go south
response: In the Boat Shed (standing on the dock)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Standing on the dock, you can step into the power boat that's tied up on the east side, or into the rowboat on the west side. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the north.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

"There must be a way to open the door so the boats can go in and out," Lydia says. "Can you figure it out?"
action: You go east
response: You scramble up over the side of the big power boat and thump down into it.

In the Boat Shed (standing in the power boat)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. The dock is to the west from here.

The power boat rocks gently. The controls on the dashboard in front of you are gleaming and incomprehensible. At the rear of the boat is mounted a large outboard motor.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

"I hope we're almost ready to go," Lydia says. "What are we waiting for?"
action: You put the hose in the pipe
response: You feed one end of the hose down into the gas tank.

Lydia kneels and dips her fingers in the water. "Ick!"
action: You suck the hose
response: You've never tried to siphon gas from a tank before, but there's a first time for everything. You suck vigorously on the hose and then pull your mouth out of the way. No gas flows forth. You try again, and this time almost get a mouthful of gas. A little splashes on your sneakers before you can stick the hose out over the side of the boat.

Gas gurgles out for almost a minute before it stops. With any luck, the tank is now empty, or almost.

Lydia gnaws on a fingernail.
action: You take the hose
response: You pull the hose out of the gas intake pipe.

Lydia whispers, "Hurry, hurry! I thought I heard something!"
action: You go west
response: The boat sways as you lever yourself up over the side and out onto the dock.

In the Boat Shed (standing on the dock)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Standing on the dock, you can step into the power boat that's tied up on the east side, or into the rowboat on the west side. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the north.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia says, "I wonder what the world is like now. When we get away, I want you to tell me everything."
action: You examine the door
response: Which door do you mean, the boat shed door, or the big door?
action: Big
response: The big door at the south end of the shed is made of horizontal metal strips, probably aluminum. An overhead track suggests that the door can be rolled up to allow boats to go in and out - and indeed, there's a drum-shaped mechanism at the south end of the catwalk from which a chain extends up and back along the track.

Lydia gazes around nervously at the gloomy interior of the boat shed.
action: You close the shed door
response: The boat shed door is too far away.

Lydia kneels and dips her fingers in the water. "Ick!"
action: You go to the north
response: The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. There's also a narrow catwalk that runs along the west wall, to the southwest from where you're standing. At the end of the catwalk is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof.

Two boats are tied up here - a small rowboat on the west side of the dock and a much bigger and sleeker power boat on the east side. The far wall of the shed is a large door through which the boats must be meant to pass in and out. At the moment the door is closed.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

"There must be a way to open the door so the boats can go in and out," Lydia says. "Can you figure it out?"
action: You close the shed door
response: Closed.

"I hope we're almost ready to go," Lydia says. "What are we waiting for?"
action: You lock it
response: That is not something you can lock.

Lydia gnaws on a fingernail.
action: You go to the south
response: In the Boat Shed (standing on the dock)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Standing on the dock, you can step into the power boat that's tied up on the east side, or into the rowboat on the west side. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the north.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia whispers, "Hurry, hurry! I thought I heard something!"
action: You look at drum
response: The drum-shaped mechanism is out at the southwest end of the catwalk.

Lydia says, "I wonder what the world is like now. When we get away, I want you to tell me everything."
action: Go southwest
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the threshold of the boat shed; east, to the power boat; and west, to the rowboat.

"I hope we're almost ready to go," Lydia says. "What are we waiting for?"
action: You look at the big door
response: The big door at the south end of the shed is made of horizontal metal strips, probably aluminum. An overhead track suggests that the door can be rolled up to allow boats to go in and out - and indeed, there's a drum-shaped mechanism at the south end of the catwalk from which a chain extends up and back along the track.

"There must be a way to open the door so the boats can go in and out," Lydia says. "Can you figure it out?"
action: You examine the mechanism
response: The drum-shaped mechanism is out at the southwest end of the catwalk.

Lydia kneels and dips her fingers in the water. "Ick!"
action: You go to the southwest
response: You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, back to the threshold of the boat shed; east, to the power boat; and west, to the rowboat.

Lydia gazes around nervously at the gloomy interior of the boat shed.
action: You go to the north
response: The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. There's also a narrow catwalk that runs along the west wall, to the southwest from where you're standing. At the end of the catwalk is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof.

Two boats are tied up here - a small rowboat on the west side of the dock and a much bigger and sleeker power boat on the east side. The far wall of the shed is a large door through which the boats must be meant to pass in and out. At the moment the door is closed.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia gnaws on a fingernail.
action: You go to the southwest
response: In the Boat Shed (standing on the catwalk)
The interior of the shed is dimly lighted by sunlight coming in through the single small window set high in the west wall. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Two boats are moored at the dock, but you can't reach them from here. At the south end of the catwalk, near the big door that forms the south wall of the shed, is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the northeast.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

"There must be a way to open the door so the boats can go in and out," Lydia says. "Can you figure it out?"
action: Go south
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads northeast to the threshold of the boat shed.

Lydia gnaws on a fingernail.
action: You go to the south-west
response: You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads northeast to the threshold of the boat shed.

"I hope we're almost ready to go," Lydia says. "What are we waiting for?"
action: You examine the drum
response: The mechanism is shaped like a large metal drum. A chain extends up from the drum and, by a series of pulleys, back along an overhead track. A small but strong-looking metal tab with a round hole in it extends out from one end of the drum.

Lydia kneels and dips her fingers in the water. "Ick!"
action: You turn the tab
response: There's no obvious way to do that.

Lydia says, "I wonder what the world is like now. When we get away, I want you to tell me everything."
action: You put the poker in the hole
response: (first putting the fire tongs in the burlap sack to make room, then taking the poker from the burlap sack)
You put the poker in the tab.

Lydia whispers, "Hurry, hurry! I thought I heard something!"
action: You turn the tab
response: You throw your weight against the metal rod. It's quite a job, but as you rotate the drum mechanism the big door groans and bit by bit inches upward. At last it's done - the door is open, revealing the sunlit waters of the swamp!

Lydia gazes around nervously at the gloomy interior of the boat shed.
action: You take the poker
response: Taken.

"I hope we're almost ready to go," Lydia says. "What are we waiting for?"
action: You go to the northeast
response: The interior of the shed is bathed in shifting light. Watery reflections spill through the big door to the south, which has been raised. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. There's also a narrow catwalk that runs along the west wall, to the southwest from where you're standing. At the end of the catwalk is a large cylindrical mechanism from which a chain runs up toward the roof.

Two boats are tied up here - a small rowboat on the west side of the dock and a much bigger and sleeker power boat on the east side. The far wall of the shed is a large door through which the boats must be meant to pass in and out. At the moment the door is standing wide open.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia gnaws on a fingernail.
action: Go south
response: In the Boat Shed (standing on the dock)
The interior of the shed is bathed in shifting light. Watery reflections spill through the big door to the south, which has been raised. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Standing on the dock, you can step into the power boat that's tied up on the east side, or into the rowboat on the west side. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the north.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia gazes around nervously at the gloomy interior of the boat shed.
action: You go to the east
response: You scramble up over the side of the big power boat and thump down into it.

In the Boat Shed (standing in the power boat)
The interior of the shed is bathed in shifting light. Watery reflections spill through the big door to the south, which has been raised. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. The dock is to the west from here.

The power boat rocks gently. The controls on the dashboard in front of you are gleaming and incomprehensible. At the rear of the boat is mounted a large outboard motor.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia says, "I wonder what the world is like now. When we get away, I want you to tell me everything."
action: You break the controls with the poker
response: Smashing the dashboard would almost certainly make too much noise. Someone would be bound to hear you.

Lydia whispers, "Hurry, hurry! I thought I heard something!"
action: You go west
response: The boat sways as you lever yourself up over the side and out onto the dock.

In the Boat Shed (standing on the dock)
The interior of the shed is bathed in shifting light. Watery reflections spill through the big door to the south, which has been raised. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. Standing on the dock, you can step into the power boat that's tied up on the east side, or into the rowboat on the west side. The threshold of the shed and the door by which you entered are to the north.

Lydia is sitting in the rowboat.

Lydia kneels and dips her fingers in the water. "Ick!"
action: You go west
response: You scramble down into the rowboat, which sways alarmingly but doesn't tip over.

In the Boat Shed (in the rowboat)
The interior of the shed is bathed in shifting light. Watery reflections spill through the big door to the south, which has been raised. Water laps gently against the walls, and there's no floor at all, only a dock that juts out to the south from a narrow platform near the door. The dock is to the east from here.

The rowboat rocks and sways in a way that makes you feel just slightly ill. The boat has oarlocks on the sides. A pair of oars is lying in the bottom of the boat.

You see some oars here.

Lydia is sitting here.

Lydia gazes out the big door at the swamp. "What a horrible place," she says.
action: You take the oars
response: (first putting the little cloth pouch in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the pill bottle in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the map of the swamp in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the compass in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the shiny key in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the cigar box in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the laptop computer in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the rubber hose in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the poker in the burlap sack to make room)
Taken.

Lydia whispers, "Hurry, hurry! I thought I heard something!"
action: Row boat
response: There are no oars in the oarlocks.

Lydia gazes around nervously at the gloomy interior of the boat shed.
action: You put oars in the oarlocks
response: Done.

Lydia gazes out the big door at the swamp. "What a horrible place," she says.
action: You look at the map
response: The piece of paper is creased and dog-eared. One edge is badly charred. The map is crudely drawn. The network of squiggles and scribbled legends seems to show the locations of a number of bayous, islands, and sandbars. Near one edge is an irregular little square marked "Eternal Springs." In another corner is a circle with an arrow pointing upward out of it; the arrow is marked "N."

Lydia gnaws on a fingernail.
action: Row boat
response: As you work the oars, the rowboat glides out through the big doors into the steaming sunlit swamp. Rowing is hard work, especially when an oar gets caught in an underwater snag, so you and Lydia take turns. Using the map, you're able to find what you hope is the right route among the tricky waterways. You steer a course that should lead to a public boat landing a couple of miles away.

A long time passes, and you worry that you're lost in the swamp, but Lydia keeps saying, "Don't you dare give up on me! We're almost there." The sun sets, turning the sky to blood and then to ash. As the dusk thickens the gnarled trees look more and more sinister - as if they're reaching out to grab you. But then you spy the cheerful glint of lights. The landing dock is just ahead. "There it is," you say, pointing.

"Yes, yes! See, I told you!" Lydia hugs you, which causes the boat to rock dangerously, but you're able to avoid capsizing. A few minutes later you climb up on the dock at the landing. Three men are standing there, including, miraculously, one in the uniform of a county sheriff. You babble out your story about being kidnapped and threatened by cultists. The sheriff asks you to slow down, but he seems to take your account seriously.

When you mention how Hank was shot, the sheriff nods soberly. "That's why I'm out here. Stevie Ray here found a body floatin' about an hour ago. Reckon it'll be the fella you're talkin' about. Well, I'll radio this in to headquarters. We'll send some squad cars out there and take 'em all into custody. You say one of 'em's your aunt? That's hard to believe."

Suddenly your teeth are chattering. You hug yourself hard, and somebody finds a blanket to wrap around you. "You can believe it," you tell him. "She brought me down here so they could k-k-kill me."

The sheriff shakes his head sadly. "What's the world comin' to? You got any other kin?"

You tell him no, and add that Lydia doesn't either. You don't feel it's worth mentioning that that's because she died in 1934. If you tell him that part, he'll start thinking you made the whole thing up.

"Well, all right, then," he says. "You girls hop into my car and I'll take you into town, get you settled with one of the ladies in the department until tomorrow. Get you some supper, too. You look all in."

You stammer your thanks. "Don't think nothin' of it," the sheriff says. "Everything's gonna be all right now. You'll see."

And as it turns out, he's absolutely right.