The Shining

him a big hard hug. Hallorann hugged him back.
When he released the boy he asked: “Your folks, they don’t shine, do they?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I tried them like I did you,” Hallorann said. “Your momma jumped the tiniest bit. I think all mothers shine a little, you know, at least until their kids grow up enough to watch out for themselves. Your dad…”
Hallorann paused momentarily. He had probed at the boy’s father and he just didn’t know. It wasn’t like meeting someone who had the shine, or someone who definitely did not. Poking at Danny’s father had been… strange, as if Jack Torrance had something-something-that he was hiding. Or something he was holding in so deeply submerged in himself that it was impossible to get to.
“I don’t think he shines at all,” Hallorann finished. “So you don’t worry about them. You just take care of you. I don’t think there’s anything here that can hurt you. So just be cool, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Danny! Hey, doc!”
Danny looked around. “That’s Mom. She wants me. I have to go.”
“I know you do,” Hallorann said. “You have a good time here, Danny. Best you can, anyway.”
“I will. Thanks, Mr. Hallorann. I feel a lot better.”
The smiling thought came in his mind:
(Dick, to my friends) (Yes, Dick, okay)
Their eyes met, and Dick Hallorann winked.
Danny scrambled across the seat of the car and opened the passenger side door. As he was getting out, Hallorann said, “Danny?”
“What?”
“If there Is trouble… you give a call. A big loud holler like the one you gave a few minutes ago. I might hear you even way down in Florida. And if I do, I’ll come on the run.”
“Okay,” Danny said, and smiled.
“You take care, big boy.”
“I will.”
Danny slammed the door and ran across the parking lot toward the porch, where Wendy stood holding her elbows against the chill wind. Hallorann watched, the big grin slowly fading.
I don’t think there’s anything here that can hurt you.
I don’t think.
But what if he was wrong? He had known that this was his last season at the Overlook ever since he had seen that thing in the bathtub of Room 217. It had been worse than any picture in any book, and from here the boy running to his mother looked so small…
I don’t think-
His eyes drifted down to the topiary animals.
Abruptly he started the car and put it in gear and drove away, trying not to look back. And of course he did, and of course the porch was empty. They had gone back inside. It was as if the Overlook had swallowed them.

“What were you talking about, hon?” Wendy asked him as they went back inside.
“Oh, nothing much.”
“For nothing much it sure was a long talk.”
He shrugged and Wendy saw Danny’s paternity in the gesture; Jack could hardly have done it better himself. She would get no more out of Danny. She felt strong exasperation mixed with an even stronger love: the love was helpless, the exasperation came from a feeling that she was deliberately being excluded. With the two of them around she sometimes felt like an outsider, a bit player who had accidentally wandered back onstage while the main action was taking place. Well, they wouldn’t be able to exclude her this winter, her two exasperating males; quarters were going to be a little too close for that. She suddenly realized she was feeling jealous of the closeness between her husband and her son, and felt ashamed. That was too close to the way her own mother might have felt… too close for comfort.
The lobby was now empty except for Ullman and the head desk clerk (they were at the register, cashing up), a couple of maids who had changed to warm slacks and sweaters, standing by the front door and looking out with their luggage pooled around them, and Watson, the maintenance man. He caught her looking at him and gave her a wink… a decidedly lecherous one. She looked away hurriedly. Jack was over by the window just outside the restaurant, studying the view. He looked rapt and dreamy.
The cash register apparently checked out, because now Ullman ran it shut with an authoritative snap. He initialed the tape and put it in a small zipper case. Wendy silently applauded the head clerk, who looked greatly relieved. Ullman looked like the type of man who might take any shortage out of the head clerk’s hide… without ever spilling a drop of blood. Wendy didn’t much care for Ullman or his officious, ostentatiously bustling manner. He was like every boss she’d ever had, male or female. He would be saccharin sweet with the guests, a petty tyrant when he was backstage with the help. But now school was out and the