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at the car, which, though only fifty feet away, was barely visible in the wild whirl.
    They trooped off single file, Mr. Japhet first, then Ed, then Lila trailing behind, trying to walk in their new footsteps. They nearly collided when Mr. Japhet stopped without warning.
    There were four figures sitting inside his car.
    “What the hell,” said Mr. Japhet. He put the case down in the snow and slogged to the car. He opened the door on the driver’s side before recognizing the greaser behind the wheel.
    Mr. Japhet tried to keep his voice level. “What’s up, boys?”
    Ed had come up behind his father.
    “That’s Urek, Dad. And his friends.”
    The four boys let loose a gang laugh, arrogating confidence from each other.
    Urek said, “That’s some special kid you got.”
    “Yeah,” said one of the others, “a magician.”
    Mr. Japhet saw the chain wrapped around Urek’s fist.
    Urek had a strange face: gnarled, it looked older than his years. It was acne-pitted, and an uneven scar marred the right cheek.
    “I think you boys better be getting home,” said Mr. Japhet. “It’s cold out here. Out of the car, now.”
    “Ask nicely,” said Urek.
    “Come on before I lose my temper.”
    “That’s not nice, Mr. Japhet.” Urek signaled the three others with a rough gesture of his head. They got out of all four doors simultaneously. “We were just going to help the magician with the bags—right, fellas?”
    Ed put both hands on the handle of his bag as Urek approached. Urek made a feint toward the bag, laughed at Ed’s instinctive flinch, and then with a grunt picked up the suitcase Mr. Japhet had left standing in the snow.
    “Leave that alone!” said Ed.
    “Put that bag down,” said Mr. Japhet. He crunched through the snow after Urek. “Give it to me.”
    “You don’t want me to help?” said Urek.
    “No,” said Mr. Japhet. “Put that bag down.”
    “I’m gonna show you what kind of magician your son is,” said Urek, lifting the bag with tremendous strength; and then, as Lila, and Ed, and Mr. Japhet watched, he smashed the case against the side of the automobile again and again and again. Ed recognized the sound of breaking glass. The milk pitcher, he thought.
    “Hey, Mr. Japhet, I bet your boy can put all the pieces back together,” said Urek.
    Mr. Japhet, losing control of his voice, as if he were suddenly in a world out of the grasp of his mind and conscience, said, “What satisfaction does that give you? What kind of human being are you?”
    “Some magician!” screamed Urek.
    “What harm did he ever do to you?”
    Ed, afraid of the chain around Urek’s fist, tried to take his father’s arm. “Let’s get out of here, Dad.”
    “Let’s go home, Mr. Japhet.” It was Lila, ten feet back, silhouetted against the light from the school building. The minute the words were out of her mouth she was sorry she had spoken, for Urek was bounding over to her, leaving new holes in the snow. “This your girl, magician?”
    Mr. Japhet, who was not as slow to grasp the shifting reality of a situation as most sons think their fathers are, knew a line had just been crossed. “Come on, Lila, Ed, get in the car.”
    Ed, both hands still on the handle of the safe suitcase, started to drag it toward the automobile.
    Lila screamed as Urek twisted her arm behind her back, and with his other hand yanked her hair.
    Ed, unthinking, blind, let the case drop into the snow and rushed at Urek, grabbing at the arm that was twisting Lila’s behind her back.
    “Watch out!” said Mr. Japhet.
    Ed punched at Urek’s arm.
    “Watch out!” said Mr. Japhet again, but Ed in his rage did not see that Urek, still holding the girl’s arm behind her back with his left hand, had let several loops of chain unwind from around his right fist. Suddenly Urek pushed the girl forward on her face, and letting go, swung the chain. Ed tried to hold his hands up in front of him, but not fast enough to thwart the full force of the end of