text: > look around
  A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.
  
  Tyrone has taken a break from working on the van in order to stand and talk with you.
  
  You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
  
  > go east
  Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.
  
  Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.
  
  You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
  An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
  
  > Go west
  (first opening the door of Cabin Four)
  You tap on the door, and a male voice within, sounding a bit annoyed, says, "Go away." Okay, he's still in there. No harm in checking.
  
  > show the photographs to Tyrone
  (first taking the faded photographs from the burlap sack)
  "Hello, Tyrone," you say.
  
  "Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"
  
  Tyrone takes the snapshots from you and thumbs through them before handing them back. "Them's old, real old," he says. "Mr. Beauregard, he ain't changed much, has he? They's one other that hasn't, neither. I see her sometimes, on a moonlit night."
  
  > ask Tyrone about Lydia
  When you mention the apparition you saw hovering around the stone block in the meadow, Tyrone starts poking around very busily in the innards of the van. "People see lots o' things," he says, not looking at you. "People ought to mind their own business." You start to mention Lydia to Tyrone, but then you hesitate. Tyrone seems to be on your side, but there may be limits. If he finds out you've restored Lydia to life, he might feel compelled to let Beauregard know. And if he doesn't tell but Beauregard finds out anyway, that might be very bad for Tyrone, who you're starting to like just a little. No, better not say anything that might get either of you in trouble.
  
  > go east
  Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.
  
  Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.
  
  You're standing between Cabin Four (to the west) and Cabin One (to the east). The croquet court continues south from here, the land sloping gently downward toward the swamp - almost as if the cabins are gently sliding into the swamp or marching, with a ponderous but imperceptible tread, toward it. To the north is a broad stretch of dusty lawn, and beside it to the west a large and rather ramshackle two-story house.
  An overgrown and uneven brick walkway leads off to the northwest, around the corner of Cabin Four.
  
  > show the photographs to Honey
  Honey lowers her magazine and turns her big round dark glasses in your direction. "Well, hello, there."
  
  Honey barely glances at the faded photographs. "That's nice, sugar. Now why don't you run off and play or somethin'?"
  
  Honey stretches languidly.
  
  > show the locket to Honey
  (first taking the gold locket from the burlap sack)
  Honey barely glances at the gold locket. "That's nice, sugar. Now why don't you run off and play or somethin'?"
  
  > put the locket in the sack
  Done.
  
  Honey inspects her perfectly manicured bright pink nails.
  
  > Go north
  As you walk away, Honey goes back to reading (if that's the right word) her magazine.
  
  A narrow, uneven ribbon of blacktop runs east and west at this spot, and a walk leads off through some tall bushes to the south. Beyond the bushes can be glimpsed the roof of the main house. On the north side of the road is a ditch choked with bramble bushes.
  
  > go to the west
  A narrow, bumpy ribbon of blacktop runs east and west at this spot. To the south, a gravel driveway leads off through some tall bushes. Standing - or rather, leaning - next to the driveway is a sign that says, "Eternal Springs." The north side of the road is impassable due to a nasty-looking thicket of berry bushes.
  
  > Go west
  The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.
  
  > go west
  The east/west road passes close by the front gate of a trashy-looking farm. Two large, smirking farm boys are lounging by the gate, chewing lengths of grass and looking at you in a keen and unhealthy way.
  
  > show the photographs to the boys
  "Hello again," you say, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm back."
  
  "Was she gone?" the smaller boy says. "I din't notice."
  
  The boys look at one another and roll their eyes, as if wondering how you could be so stupid.
  
  > continue
  "We could take those away from you," the smaller boy says, "but why bother? Now, I'm not sayin' you don't got nothin' we might want, but that ain't it."
  
  > hit the boys
  It seems pretty clear that provoking them would get you in big trouble really quickly.
  
  "She's a hot chick, ain't she?" the larger boy says, nudging his brother and tilting his head at you.
  
  > Go east
  "See you later," you say as you walk away.
  
  "Aw, don't go," the larger boy says. "Stick around. We was just gonna show you how to have a real good time!" As you walk away, you hear the boys snickering about something.
  
  The narrow, potholed ribbon of blacktop runs east and west between thorny thickets to the north and south. A narrow gap in the shrubbery to the south might be wide enough for you to squeeze through.
  
  > go to the south
  You slip into the gap in the hedge, and find yourself angled in a twisty maze of thorny bramble-bushes. For a couple of minutes you stumble around, trying to avoid getting stuck by the razor-sharp thorns. Eventually you find your way back to the road, shaken by the ordeal but not too badly scratched up.
  
  > look at the gap
  The gap is narrow, and the bushes within seem to be covered with nasty-looking thorns.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, an old shovel, a gold locket, and some faded photographs), the key to Cabin One, a wooden bucket (which contains some water), a pill bottle, a little white pill, and a croquet hoop. You're wearing your clothes.
  
  > go south
  You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead east, down the road to the east; and west, back down the road.
  
  > go to the north
  The thorny bramble bushes prevent your going in that direction.
  
  > go south
  The gravel driveway runs behind the big house, which looms over you to the east. At the north end the driveway passes through a high hedge, and at the south it opens out into an area in front of a shack, where a dusty van is parked. A pair of low doors angles out from the foundation of the house at this spot.
  
  A big black SUV is parked in the driveway.
  
  You see a dead possum here.
  
  > Examine SUV
  The SUV is big, black, shiny, and very solid-looking. A chrome logo on the rear says it's a Bronco.
  
  > open SUV
  The doors are locked.
  
  > unlock SUV with the hoop
  You give it a try, but the SUV is locked up tight.
  
  > ask Tyrone about the suv
  "Hello, Tyrone," you say.
  
  "Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"
  
  You point to the big black SUV. "Did somebody just get here?"
  
  Tyrone nods. "Fella checked into Cabin Six. Rugged-lookin' fella. I think Mr. Beauregard, he didn't want nobody else checkin' in this afternoon. I overheard 'em arguin' a little. I'll tell you, that worries me. You don't want to argue with Mr. Beauregard, truly you don't."
  
  > Empty bucket
  Emptying the bucket on the ground would only make a mess.
  
  > Empty bucket
  You empty the bucket into the swamp.
  
  > Go west
  Cabin Six is a lot like Cabin Five. Twin beds with ugly brown bedspreads haphazardly made up, water-stained plaster and peeling wallpaper, a grimy carpet. A faded painting of a flop-eared hound dog entirely fails to add cheer to the room. Tattered curtains hang across the window, which is to the left of the door.
  
  The dresser stands against the west wall, near the door of the bathroom. There's a walk-in closet on the south side of the room, and the door of the cabin is to the east.
  
  Because your eyes take a moment to adjust from the sunlight outside to the dimness of the room, you're startled to realize there's a man sitting silently on the edge of one of the twin beds. He's staring at you, his eyes a wet blue glimmer in the weathered tan of his face.
  
  "Hello, there," he drawls. "Nice of you to come visit. Or were you plannin' to steal somethin'?"
  
  You start to protest your innocence, but he waves your words aside. "Just funnin' with you, youngster. My name's Hank. Hank Slocum." He sticks out his hand, and you feel compelled to shake it. His hand is as dry and rough as old leather.
  
  You introduce yourself, and Hank says, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Diane. Now what would a nice-lookin' young city girl like you be doin' mopin' around this God-forsaken hellhole on such a fine afternoon? No, don't answer. It would only depress me. I been keepin' my ears open. Some of the things goin' on around here I don't much care for. Good thing I won't be here much longer."
  
  > examine Hank
  Hank is a muscular, tough-looking man of about forty. He has sandy hair, several days' growth of beard, and scarred, calloused hands.
  He's sitting on the edge of the bed.
  
  > ask Hank about the eternal Springs
  "Yeah, it's a dump, ain't it?" Hank says. "Best thing about it is, I'll be leavin' before it gets dark. You might want to see if you can't figure out a way to do the same thing, if you know what's good for you."
  
  > ask Hank about Hank
  "Me? Nice of you to ask. I'm nobody special. Came down here on business. I'll be gone before it gets dark. Picked this place out on account of it's right close to the bayou. Some friends o' mine ... well, I don't want to say too much about that. They're comin' in tonight on a plane, you know, one of those little amphibious jobs that can take off and land on water, and I gotta go out in a boat and meet 'em. We're doin' a little business transaction, and don't ask me nothin' more about it, because I won't say another word.
  
  "Gets harder every year," he says, leaning back and gazing at the ceiling. "Gotta find an out-of-the-way spot like this to do a transaction. First time I came here to meet a plane was last year. Another friend o' mine brought me. Good thing, too. I woulda got lost in the swamp for sure. There's about a thousand twisty little waterways out there. You get out there in a boat, if you don't know the swamp like the back of your hand you'll be lost inside ten minutes, and they'll never find your bones, 'cuz the gators, they chew up the bones.
  
  "But am I worried? No, I ain't worried. Show you why. Got me a map." He pats the leather case lying on the bed beside him. "You want to see it?"
  
  You express polite curiosity. He opens the case, careful not to let you see anything else that might be inside, and draws out an often-folded piece of paper, which he spreads open and smooths out, not very effectually, on his thigh. "We're right here," he says, pointing with a grimy finger at a little square near one edge of the map. "Now, to meet the plane I got to go-"
  
  Hank glances toward the window and pauses. "Uh-oh," he says. "Company comin'. Look, sweetheart, I don't want nobody to find me with an underage girl in my motel room. Nothin' personal, you understand, I wouldn't hurt you for all the world, but I got what they call prior felony convictions. If you'd be so kind as to just slip into the closet there for a minute, until I chase these bozos off...."
  
  You find yourself crammed into the cabin's tiny, musty-smelling closet. The door is open only a crack, not enough for you to see what's going on outside, only enough to let in a trickle of light that reassures you you haven't been entombed.
  
  Men's voices come to you, somewhat muffled. "We have a problem," says one voice. "The problem is you."
  
  Hank says, "Well, that's not a problem, then, because I was just gettin' ready to leave." He sounds a little edgy.
  
  "Not good enough," says another voice. "We saw the girl come in here a while ago. Good thing she's gone now, or we'd have an even bigger headache." With a start, you recognize the resonant tones of Reverend Gillespie.
  
  "I'm not followin' you," Hank says.
  
  "The point is, you know she's here. Later on tonight, or tomorrow, you might think to ask questions."
  
  "I know how to keep my mouth shut," Hank says. "Of course, if you had a few bucks to spread around, it'd set my conscience at ease."
  
  "You think he'd stay bought?" the first man says.
  
  "I think the longer we let him think he's negotiating, the harder it'll be to do what has to be done."
  
  Hank's voice rises. "Now, wait just a-" He's cut off by a BANG so loud it makes you jump. You aren't sure you didn't let out a scream too, but the bang was loud enough to cover any sounds you made.
  
  There's a longish silence, punctuated only by shuffling and scraping noises. "What are we going to do with his stuff?" asks Reverend Gillespie.
  
  "Burn it. You saw the incinerator out back. Then we take him out in Beauregard's boat and lose him."
  
  "What about his car?"
  
  "Here are the keys. Ask Beauregard. Maybe the nigger can drive it off somewhere, leave the keys in the ignition. Somebody's bound to steal it."
  
  There's more shuffling, and the sound of something heavy being dragged. You find that you're trembling. For a long time after the sounds stop, you crouch in the closet, deathly afraid to make the slightest noise, afraid to peek out for fear they haven't gone, or are coming back.
  
  Not far away you hear the heavy sound of a motorboat engine coughing to life. The boat's drone dies away into the distance, but even then you hang back, still nervous. But at last the stuffy air and the sense that if you don't move you'll be entombed forever in this tiny space are too much for you. You push the closet door open and creep out.
  
  The cabin looks a lot more vacant than it did before. Hank is gone, and so are his things. The one addition to the decor is a large puddle of something dark and wet in the middle of the floor.
  
  > look at the puddle
  The shallow pool of blood in the middle of the floor is spattered and smeared, as if something has been dragged through it. A couple of flies are already circling around it.
  
  > Go east
  Two rows of small, dilapidated cabins, three on each side, stand to the east and west of this stretch of bare dirt. Several croquet hoops are stuck crookedly into the ground at odd spots.
  
  You're standing between Cabin Six (to the west) and Cabin Three (to the east). The croquet court continues north from here. To the south, a little slope ends at the watery edge of a swamp, and a path to the southwest leads toward a good-sized shed that stands at the edge of the water.
  
  You notice a trickle of smoke rising from the area behind the western row of cabins.
  
  > go to the south
  The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.
  
  As you pause to gaze out across the swamp, feeling both fascinated by its exotic, other-worldly flavor and repelled by its air of foulness and decay, a swirl of mist rising from the water congeals into a figure - a large figure, which drifts swiftly toward you. You stare at it, horrified but unable to look away.
  
  The figure must be at least twenty feet tall. It's made of mist, and ought to be tenuous, insubstantial, but somehow it seems more solid than that. The gray filaments of turbulent vapor are shot through with veins of red and black. The thing has a huge, gaping mouth studded with sharp fangs. Its tongue writhes out toward you obscenely, as if it's trying to lick you. Its meaty hands grope toward you, the claws slashing.
  
  But then, as suddenly as it came, the apparition evaporates. You're standing looking out at the swamp, and there's nothing there but swamp. You discover that you've been holding your breath, and let it out shakily.
  
  > Go west
  A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built. The door is standing wide open.
  
  You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.
  
  > go northwest
  This may once have been a garden, but now it's just a final resting place for junk - lots and lots of junk - and nothing grows here but weeds. The falling-down shack stands (if that's the right word) north of here, its single square window looking out on the junk. The area where the van is parked is to the northeast, and the area behind the cabins is east. Off to the southeast stands the shed at the edge of the swamp.
  
  The way westward is blocked by an improbably dense thicket of bramble-bushes.
  
  A column of whitish smoke is curling up from the incinerator behind the western row of shacks.
  
  > go east
  The open area behind the western row of cabins is thinly carpeted with scruffy, dusty weeds. A large, rusted incinerator, from which a thin coil of smoke is rising, stands in the middle of the open space. A scraggly tree has set down roots quite close to the leftmost of the three cabins whose rear walls form a barrier to the east.
  
  To the south is the shed at the edge of the swamp. You can go north to the area in front of the run-down shack, where the motel's dusty van is parked. The overgrown, junk-strewn garden beside the shack is to the west.
  
  > take all from the incinerator
  flames: You'd burn your fingers.
  
  > go south
  A large shed is built out over the waters of the swamp at this spot. The planks of the shed are weathered to a grayish color and the paint is peeling, but the shed looks solidly built. The door is standing wide open.
  
  You can go southwest around the side of the shed, northeast to the area between the cabins, and north or northwest to an open area behind the western row of cabins. The door of the shed is directly to the south, and a stretch of swampy shore lies to the east.
  
  You notice a trickle of smoke rising from the area behind the western row of cabins.
  
  > Go east
  The brackish, oily, unpleasant waters of the swamp stretch south from here. Large trees festooned with slimy green creepers stand in the water. To the west is a shed, to the east a path along the shore. The cabins are to the north.
  
  You find yourself wanting to hurry along, so as not to catch another glimpse, even out of the corner of your eye, of the terrible swamp-thing you saw - or imagined you saw - before.
  
  > pour the water in the incinerator
  The water quickly douses the flames, leaving a mess of soggy ashes.
  
  > Search ashes
  Poking around in the charred and soggy remains at the bottom of the incinerator, you find a treasure - Hank's map of the swamp! One corner is charred, but it didn't burn! You pull it out, wipe off the gunk as carefully as you can, and unfold it. But something very odd is going on. The lines on the map refuse to lie still on the paper. At first you think it's your eyes, still smarting from the smoke, and you rub them. But no, the lines on the map continually squirm, contort, twist, and writhe as you watch in a way that's both impossible and deeply frightening.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a sequined jacket, a flashlight, an old shovel, a gold locket, and some faded photographs), the key to Cabin One, a pill bottle, a little white pill, a croquet hoop, a wooden bucket, and an indecipherable map. You're wearing your clothes.
  
  > examine the map
  The piece of paper is creased and dog-eared. One edge is badly charred. The lines and shapes drawn on the piece of paper are squirming and writhing. It's impossible to get any clear idea what they represent.
  
  > Go north
  A slant-roofed, sagging shack stands here. There might have been a bit of vegetable garden beside it at one time, but all that's left now is a jumble of weeds and rusting junk. The large passenger van belonging to the resort stands in front of the shack, its hood up.
  
  You can go south to the open area behind the cabins, northwest along the gravel driveway, north to the back door of the main house, or northeast on a path that leads around the corner of the house. An overgrown brick walkway leads east along the side of the nearest cabin. The shack itself is to the west from this spot, and the garden beside it is to the southwest.
  
  > knock on the door
  Your knock is answered after a moment by a short, stocky woman whose black hair and broad, flat features suggest that her ancestry is Central American. She looks down at you impassively. "Oh, it's you," she says. "You're the girl, the one they brought. Mr. Beauregard he said he didn't want you in the house, but I think he gone off somewhere, so I don't care. You can come in if you want to. I'm Luisa. I work here, keep the house clean. Just don't make a mess I got to clean up, you can go where you want." She has a heavy Hispanic accent, but her words are not hard to understand. She turns and goes back inside, leaving the door open.
  
  > Go inside
  The van has the usual front and rear seats. Through the dust-speckled windows you can see the house, the driveway, the shack, and the cabins. The interior smells faintly of gasoline.
  
  > go north
  The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.
  
  On the stove is a tea kettle.
  
  Luisa is sitting at the kitchen table, shelling peas.
  
  > ask Luisa about Luisa
  "Hello, Luisa," you say.
  
  She looks up from her work. "What do you want? You want somethin'?"
  
  When you ask Luisa about herself, she looks away. "I'm nobody," she says. "I just clean the house is all."
  
  > ask Luisa about Phelps
  Luisa's face crinkles up in an expression that might possibly be a smile. "Mr. Phelps, he's good to me. He brought me here from my home. Long time ago. I was a girl just like you."
  
  > ask Luisa about the eternal Springs
  "It's okay here," Luisa says when you ask about Eternal Springs. "There's worse places. I get lonely sometimes, but it's not too bad."
  
  > ask Luisa about the picnic
  Trying not to sound serious or concerned, you casually mention to Luisa the picnic Beauregard and your aunt have told you they're planning for tonight. Luisa's mouth sets in a grim line, and her accent thickens as she replies, "I don' know nothin' about that. Nothin'."
  
  But won't she need to prepare the food, you ask innocently. Luisa turns away without answering.
  
  > ask Luisa about Tyrone
  Luisa shrugs. "He's all right. He treats me all right."
  
  > ask Luisa about the wasp nest
  "You ascared of them wasps?" Luisa's face crinkles in a not very friendly grin, and she chuckles. "Girls are, sometimes. Listen, you: There's worse things than wasps."
  
  > ask Luisa about the boys
  "Oh, those boys," Luisa says, shaking her head in disgust. "They're not nice at all. You don't want to go hang around with them."
  
  > ask Luisa about the swamp
  When you mention the swamp, Luisa shakes her head slowly and heavily. "There's bad things out there in the swamp. Things that bite you, suck out your blood. Don' even think about going swimming out there. I wouldn't even go out there in a boat. It might tip over, then where would you be? You tell me that."
  
  > ask Luisa about the tea
  "Oh, that." Luisa shrugs. "It ain't none of my business."
  
  > ask Luisa about the altar
  Luisa shakes her head. "I don't know nothin' about that. And I don't want to know, neither."
  
  > ask Luisa about the ghost
  Tentatively you describe the ghostly apparition you saw in the meadow. Luisa shakes her head. "Don't you go down there. That's a bad place, not a place for a girl like you."
  
  > ask Luisa about the dog
  Luisa's attention is on the peas she's shelling. She seems not to have heard you.
  
  > ask Luisa about Reverend
  "I stay in the house," Luisa says. "The guests, I don' even know who they are, mostly."
  
  > ask Luisa about Honey
  "You want to know about who's staying here, you go knock on their cabins and ask them. Or ask Mr. Beauregard. Or even Tyrone, he might know something. Not me."
  
  > ask Luisa about the house
  "It's an old house," Luisa says. "Really old. It's not too nice, but I keep it clean."
  
  > open the cupboard
  Luisa pushes back the chair and half-rises. "I don't want you messin' around with stuff in my kitchen," she says pointedly. "Why don't you go play someplace else?" You decide it would be better not to provoke her. Sooner or later she's bound to leave the kitchen unguarded. You'll be able to come back then and have a look around.
  
  > ask Luisa about the boathouse
  "That's not something I goin' to worry about," she says. "Not right now."
  
  > examine the appliances
  The appliances include the sink, the stove, and the refrigerator. To interact with them, you need to refer to them singly.
  
  > examine the sink
  The sink is lined with a mottled crust of scum. A faucet is mounted above it.
  
  > examine the stove
  The old-fashioned electric stove has an oven door in the front and four heating elements on the top.
  
  > examine the fridge
  The refrigerator (in this part of the country they probably still call it an icebox) is fairly ordinary-looking. There's no ice dispenser or anything.
  
  > open the fridge
  Luisa gets up and comes toward you. "What did I tell you? Don't go messin' with anything in my kitchen! Shoo!" She waves her arms at you.
  
  > examine the peas
  The peas are green - well, actually, there are as many brown ones as green ones. Some of them are shelled, some are still in their pods.
  It looks as if Luisa is tossing the shelled peas and the empty pods back into the bowl with the unshelled ones, because there's no pile of pods nearby. You make a mental note not to have any peas at dinner.
  
  > Go north
  This cheerless cubicle is lined with unusually deep shelves, which rest (unevenly) on metal brackets attached to the wall. In years past the pantry might have been well-stocked, but today the only thing to be seen on the shelves are rat droppings and a few shrivelled onions. There's an open doorway to the south and a door to the west, which is closed.
  
  > examine the onions
  The onions appear to be a couple of years old. Some of them have sprouted, and the sprouts are brown and dried up too.
  
  > Go west
  (first unlocking the door, then opening it)
  
  This flimsy wooden platform overlooks the cellar. Stairs lead downward to the west, and there's a door to the east.
  
  > Go east
  This cheerless cubicle is lined with unusually deep shelves, which rest (unevenly) on metal brackets attached to the wall. In years past the pantry might have been well-stocked, but today the only thing to be seen on the shelves are rat droppings and a few shrivelled onions. There's an open doorway to the south and a door to the west, which is standing open.
  
  > Go east
  The big dining room has windows on the east and south and doorways on the north and west. Other than a long dining table and some ill-assorted chairs, the room is bare and featureless. It smells sour, as if food served and eaten here a long time ago still lingers in the plaster of the walls.
  
  A little oval of grayish stones is lying on the table. It looks rather like a crude bracelet.
  
  > look at the oval
  The gold locket is an old-fashioned oval no bigger than the last joint of your little finger. It's suspended from a delicate gold chain. Inside the locket is a tiny snapshot of a woman's face.
  
  > examine the grayish stones
  The bracelet is made of irregular chunks of gray-white stone about the size of marbles. Each stone is incised with a symbol of some sort.
  The symbols look vaguely like letters, but not in any alphabet you've ever seen.
  
  > look at the symbols
  The letters on the stone bracelet are unlike any alphabet you've ever seen - there's something like an upside-down 'Y', a 'Q' with its tail on the wrong side, a zigzag like a lightning-bolt, and so on. There's not much chance you'll be able to figure out what they mean - not this afternoon, anyhow.
  
  > go north
  The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
  
  > examine the clock
  The grandfather clock stands as stiff and still as a tombstone, except that within it a brass heart ticks as the pendulum swings back and forth behind the long glass door. The clock face is numbered using Roman numerals, to which a pair of ornate old-fashioned brass hands (rather bent and tarnished) are pointing. If the clock is to be believed, it's now 3:33.
  
  > examine table
  The spindly old telephone table is made of dark wood. It sits in a corner next to the door, supporting an old-fashioned black telephone, the kind with a dial instead of buttons.
  
  > Go north
  The living room is not actually a small room, but it feels cramped because of the amount of thrift-shop furniture crammed into it.
  There's a fireplace on the north side of the room, a window to the east, and a tall, heavy bookcase against the west wall. An archway leads back to the south.
  
  > look at the fireplace
  The interior of the brick fireplace is charred black, but no fire has been laid. (Not surprising, considering the hot weather.)  Standing in front of the fireplace are a poker and a pair of fire tongs.
  
  > examine the bookcase
  The bookcase is six feet tall and heavily built. The shelves are crammed with books, which is somewhat surprising, because Beauregard Phelps doesn't look to you like the reading type.
  
  There's an interesting-looking oversize book lying flat on one shelf.
  
  > look at the oversize book
  The cloth-covered book is hundreds of pages thick and more than a foot square. The pages don't fit neatly between the covers; the book appears to have been bound by hand. The front cover, of well-worn coarse cloth, is blank: No title or author, no lettering of any kind.
  
  > read it
  (first taking the sketchbook)
  The book proves to contain almost nothing but hand-drawn pencil sketches - more than a hundred of them on thick, stiff paper. Each sketch is different, but there's a common theme. Most show monsters and demons of various sorts, in various poses and settings. As you leaf through the book, you find that you're becoming more and more disturbed by the gruesome images.
  
  At the bottom of each sketch, a single word has been written in block capitals. The words themselves have an exotic, foreign flavor that matches the bizarre pictures. Here's a sketch of two demons with fangs and spears stabbing a huge feathered serpent, or possibly a dragon. Beneath the sketch is the word HUATLI.
  
  Another sketch, perhaps the most frightening of the lot, shows a young girl lying naked on her back on a block of stone. A man in an elaborate headdress looms over her with an upraised dagger, while a huge demon with claws and flaming eyes looks on. Beneath this image is the word OLTIOC.
  
  A sketch of a demon eating what looks disgustingly like a human heart is labelled ZIATLI. A sketch of two men in headdresses holding a girl between them and presenting her to a giant serpent is labelled MAZIDI. A sketch of a girl being - no, that one is too upsetting even to think about, but you notice the word UMIXIM below it.
  
  As you're about to close the book in disgust and fear, it falls open to a sketch you hadn't noticed before - two men in headdresses kneeling, four girls marching up a ramp, and a single huge demon leering down at them. It's the same image as the carving on the stone block in the meadow! Below this image is the word IXTLOC.
  
  > put the book in the bookcase
  The sketchbook is too large for the bookcase.
  
  > take the tongs and the poker
  fire tongs: Taken.
  
  poker:
  (first putting the pill bottle in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the key to Cabin One in the burlap sack to make room, then putting the little white pill in the burlap sack to make room)
  Taken.
  
  > put the poker and the tongs in the sack
  poker: Done.
  fire tongs: Done.