minutes later he was strapping them to his feet on the front porch。 His daddy
had told him that he (Danny) had the hang of using the snowshoes — the lazy;
shuffling stride; the twist of ankle that shook the powdery snow from the
lacings just before the boot came back down — and all that remained was for him to
build up the necessary muscles in his thighs and calves and ankles。 Danny found
that his ankles got tired the fastest。 Snowshoeing was almost as hard on your
ankles as skating; because you had to keep clearing the lacings。 Every five
minutes or so he had to stop with his legs spread and the snowshoes fat on the
snow to rest them。
But he didnt have to rest on his way down to the playground because it was
all downhill。 Less than ten minutes after he struggled up and over the monstrous
snow…dune that had drifted in on the Overlooks front porch he was standing with
his mittened hand on the playground slide。 He wasnt even breathing hard。
The playground seemed much nicer in the deep snow than it ever had during the
autumn。 It looked like a fairyland sculpture。 The swing chains had been frozen
in strange positions; the seats of the big kids swings resting flush against
the snow。 The jungle gym was an ice…cave guarded by dripping icicle teeth。 Only
the chimneys of the play…Overlook stuck up over the snow
(wish the other one was buried that way only not with us in it)
and the tops of the cement rings protruded in two places like Eskimo igloos。
Danny tramped over there; squatted; and began to dig。 Before long he had
uncovered the dark mouth of one of them and he slipped into the cold tunnel。 In
his mind he was Patrick McGoohan; the Secret Agent Man (they had shown the
reruns of that program twice on the Burlington TV channel and his daddy never
missed them; he would skip a party to stay home and watch 〃Secret Agent〃 or 〃The
Avengers〃 and Danny had always watched with him); on the run from KGB agents in
the mountains of Switzerland。 There had been avalanches in the area and the
notorious KGB agent Slobbo had killed his girlfriend with a poison dart; but
somewhere near was the Russian antigravity machine。 Perhaps at the end of this
very tunnel。 He drew his automatic and went along the concrete tunnel; his eyes
wide and alert; his breath pluming out。
The far end of the concrete ring was solidly blocked with snow。 He tried
digging through it and was amazed (and a little uneasy) to see how solid it was;
almost like ice from the cold and the constant weight of more snow on top of it。
His make…believe game collapsed around him and he was suddenly aware that he
felt closed in and extremely nervous in this tight ring of cement。 He could hear
his breathing; it sounded dank and quick and hollow。 He was under the snow; and
hardly any light filtered down the hole he had dug to get in here。 Suddenly he
wanted to be out in the sunlight more than anything; suddenly he remembered his
daddy and mommy were sleeping and didnt know there he was; that if the hole he
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