understand what was happening to him.

Fuzzy Head was now—reversed.

"Tell me!" Johnny intoned. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"

Out of the doll came speech. High and shrill, like a whistle being squeezed.

"They are here now! They are crossing the lawn!"

With a little sob of pure rapture, Johnny scrambled to his feet. Almost, in his wild excitement, he forgot to unscramble Fuzzy Head. The doll screeched piteously. There was a wrongness about it that would have sickened an adult, a wrongness as hideous as misapplied surgery, or an unbroken egg, turned bad and spilling its yolk in some unguessable fashion. A look of tender compassion, odd in a child, came into Johnny's face.

"Poor Fuzzy Head! I forgot!"

Turning swiftly, Johnny waved his hand over the doll, intoning a few curious words. "Sil Unsilith Undroth!"

Slowly, still glowing dully, Fuzzy Head returned to his normal state.

A moment later Johnny was standing with his face pressed to the window, his heart thumping wildly.

He could see them clearly now—a man and a woman, radiant in flowing garments, sweeping straight across the lawn toward the house. Their faces were strange, like petalled flowers but much brighter than the flowers which Johnny could make glow in the dark.

Their feet, Johnny noticed, were tipped with little fluttering wings of flame. He'd always known they would come for him, as far back as he could remember, and he could remember the first fluttering of his heart. He could remember himself red and angry, flushed with resentment because he was so very small and helpless and everyone ignored his wailing protests.

The man and the woman were rising now. Straight up toward the window, their faces shining in the moonlight.

Johnny exhaled a deep breath and stepped back from the window. At almost the same instant they were in the room with him!

Johnny tried to be calm, pretending he'd known all along that they were his true parents. But 

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