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1
“That night,” Roland said, “there were lights and music and dancing; many good things to eat and plenty of liquor to wash it down with.”
“Booze,” Eddie said, and heaved a seriocomic sigh. “I remember it well.”
It was the first thing any of them had said in a very long time, and it broke the spell that had held them through that long and windy night. They
stirred like people awaking from a deep dream. All except Oy, who still lay on his back in front of the fireplace with his short paws splayed and the
tip of his tongue lolling comically from the side of his mouth.
Roland nodded. “There were women, too, and that night Silent Jamie left his virginity behind him. The next morning we reboarded Sma’ Toot, and
made our way back to Gilead. And so it happened, once upon a bye.”
“Long before my grandfather’s grandfather was born,” Jake said in a low voice.
“Of that I can’t say,” Roland said with a slight smile, and then took a long drink of water. His throat was very dry.
For a moment there was silence among them. Then Eddie said, “Thank you, Roland. That was boss.”
The gunslinger raised an eyebrow.
“He means it was wonderful,” Jake said. “It was, too.”
“I see light around the boards we put over the windows,” Susannah said. “Just a little, but it’s there. You talked down the dark, Roland. I guess
you’re not the strong silent Gary Cooper type after all, are you?”
“I don’t know who that is.”
She took his hand and gave it a brief hard squeeze. “Ne’mine, sugar.”
“Wind’s dropped, but it’s still blowing pretty hard,” Jake observed.
“We’ll build up the fire, then sleep,” the gunslinger said. “This afternoon it should be warm enough for us to go out and gather more wood. And
tomorrowday . . .”
“Back on the road,” Eddie finished.
“As you say, Eddie.”
Roland put the last of their fuel on the guttering fire, watched as it sprang up again, then lay down and closed his eyes. Seconds later, he was
asleep.
Eddie gathered Susannah into his arms, then looked over her shoulder at Jake, who was sitting cross-legged and looking into the fire. “Time to
catch forty winks, little trailhand.”
“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”
“Okay, buckaroo.”
Jake gave him the finger. Eddie smiled and closed his eyes.
The boy gathered his blanket around him. My shaddie, he thought, and smiled. Beyond the walls, the wind still moaned—a voice without a body.
Jake thought, It’s on the other side of the keyhole. And over there, where the wind comes from? All of eternity. And the Dark Tower.
He thought of the boy Roland Deschain had been an unknown number of years ago, lying in a circular bedroom at the top of a stone tower.
Tucked up cozy and listening to his mother read the old tales while the wind blew across the dark land. As he drifted, Jake saw the woman’s face
and thought it kind as well as beautiful. His own mother had never read him stories. In his plot and place, that had been the housekeeper’s job.
He closed his eyes and saw billy-bumblers on their hind legs, dancing in the moonlight.
He slept.
2
When Roland woke in the early afternoon, the wind was down to a whisper and the room was much brighter. Eddie and Jake were still deeply
asleep, but Susannah had awakened, boosted herself into her wheelchair, and removed the boards blocking one of the windows. Now she sat
there with her chin propped on her hand, looking out. Roland went to her and put his own hand on her shoulder. Susannah reached up and patted it
without turning around.
“Storm’s over, sugar.”
“Yes. Let’s hope we never see another like it.”
“And if we do, let’s hope there’s a shelter as good as this one close by. As for the rest of Gook village . . .” She shook her head.
Roland bent a little to look out. What he saw didn’t surprise him, but it was what Eddie would have called awesome. The high street was still
there, but it was full of branches and shattered trees. The buildings that had lined it were gone. Only the stone meeting hall remained.
“We were lucky, weren’t we?”
“Luck’s the word those with poor hearts use for ka, Susannah of New York.”