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Show THE UPSTAIRS PEOPLE-49 Michael had caught another mantis and was playing with it, flinging it into the air with his paws, then scampering off over everything, making ripping sounds with his claws. He overturned a tray of shells, scattering them on the green shag carpet. Later, she went out into the yard, not because she wanted to, but because Michael was scratching at the door to be let out, and she didn't want to be alone just then. The man and woman came over to her. She ought to find a way to let them know they didn't always have to do that. "We wonder if you'd like to come to the beach with us this afternoon?" the woman said. "If you like shells..." "But Schilly, the wheelchair, the sand." The man blushed. Betty rescued him. "If you wouldn't mind, I could just kind of crawl around. I've always wanted to feel the sand." "Mind? Oh no." The woman looked relieved. "Does that thing fold up?" She rested on the sand like a seal, the upper part strong, nearly upright, the rest tapered, limp. By pulling with her hands she could move a few inches at a time, but mostly she wanted to stay there, propped on an elbow, feeling the grainy liquid warmth of the sand, smelling the seashell smell, listening to the waves. The man had lifted her there, blushing, and the two had gone off alone, as Betty had said they must. Far down the shore, past the two figures, something enormous moved against the sky. Betty propped herself with her hand, stretched to look better, blinked, looked again. She saw two giant legs, serrated and bent, pale green, |