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the day the money ran out was the day Dr. Malcolm called and asked me to come here. So things work out. They really do. Now I can support myself doing something I love to do, and my very first assignment is in this lovely place taking care of your sweet family. Oh, I know they're sweet. I can tell from the way they smile in their sleep. I've even become fond of Attila. Look how poor Louie misses her. Every morning after breakfast he comes upstairs and gets in the dishpan with her for a while. I'll bet she knows it, too, even in her sleep. That's why I talk to your parents and Flossie all the time I'm taking care of them. In nursing school we learned that the last sense to go is hearing and that it's important to talk to our patients all the time, even if we don't think they can bear us. I always try to be encouraging when I talk to them. I tell your mother and father and Flossie that someday they're going to wake up, and the first thing they'll want is a hug and the next thing they'll want is a steak. You have to feed both hungers, you know. I'm not sure exactly what to tell Attila. I mean, I don't know if chickens need much hugging, and I feel funny telling her I'll have a big fat bug ready for her when she wakes up. But that's what I tell her, just in case she can understand me."
    They had walked for several miles around Eclipse while Sunnie talked, but Sandy hardly noticed. He never tired of listening to her talk, and she had so much to say. She made him think about things he had never considered before, such as the hunger for hugs as well as for steaks. And how a runaway husband and father could suffer from what he had done, too. And lots of other things as well.
    As entranced as he was by Sunnie, Sandy's days were still shadowed by the continued absence of those in the sickroom. Every morning he woke with the hope that this day might be the one when life returned to normal. But it never was.

CHAPTER 8
    One evening as Bentley and Sandy sat in the kitchen trying to decide whether they should make pea soup or toasted cheese sandwiches for supper, and Sunnie sat upstairs watching over the patients, the intercom buzzer sounded. Bentley and Sandy looked questioningly at each other, and then Bentley went to answer it. Sandy trailed along behind him.
    "Yes?" Bentley said into the intercom.
    "It's Bart and Bernie," said a loud voice. "Tonight's the third Thursday of October. It's time for our monthly dinner. Open the gate."
    Sandy and Bentley looked at each other, aghast. They'd forgotten all about the monthly dinner.
    "What shall I say?" Bentley whispered frantically.
    Sandy stepped up to the intercom, trying to control his rage. "We forgot this was the night," he said. "You know, without calendars, it's hard to keep track. Let's skip this month. I promise we won't forget next time."
    "No problem," Bart yelled into the microphone. "We'll take potluck. Open the gate."
    "Well, to tell the truth, we've all had a touch of the flu. We're probably still contagious. I certainly wouldn't want you to catch it."
    "We're disgustingly healthy," Bart bellowed. "Don't worry. Open the gate."
    "Disgusting, anyway," Sandy muttered.
    "What?" Bart yelled.
    "Nothing. So we'll see you next month, OK?" Sandy said, hoping they'd get the idea.
    "If you don't open this gate," Bart hollered, "we'll have to assume something worse than the flu is wrong and we'll have to let the board of directors of HAHA, Inc. know. And they'll be out here before you know what happened, with court orders and habeas corpuses and stuff like that, just to be sure Horatio's of sound mind, et cetera. So open the gate."
    "We're going to have to let them in," Sandy said. "Act as if everything's fine. We may even have to feed them. Just don't eat
anything
they've touched." He pressed the intercom button and said, "OK, I'll open the gate. But Mousey and Flossie and Horatio have already gone to bed, so you'll have to be content to eat with just me and Bentley."
    "Perfect," Bart