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loor hallway。 The numbers on the door looked no different from the house numbers on the Boulder apartment building they had lived in。 A 2； a 1； and a 7。 Big deal。 Just below them was a tiny glass circle； a peephole。 Danny had tried several of them。 From the inside you got a wide； fish…eye view of the corridor。 From outside you could screw up your eye seven ways to Sunday and still not see a thing。 A dirty gyp： （Why are you here？） After the walk behind the Overlook； he and Mommy had e back and she had fixed him his favorite lunch； a cheese and bologna sandwich plus Campbell's Bean Soup。 They ate in Dick's kitchen and talked。 The radio was on； getting thin and crackly music from the Estes Park station。 The kitchen was his favorite place in the hotel； and he guessed that Mommy and Daddy must feel the same way； because after trying their meals in the dining room for three days or so； they had begun eating in the kitchen by mutual consent； setting up chairs around Dick Hallorann's butcher block； which was almost as big as their dining room table back in Stovington； anyway。 The dining room had been too depressing； even with the lights on and the music playing from the tape cassette system in the ofce。
You were still just one of three people sitting at a table surrounded by dozens of other tables； all empty； all covered with those transparent plastic dustcloths。 Mommy said it was like having dinner in the middle of a Horace Walpole novel； and Daddy had laughed and agreed。 Danny had no idea who Horace Walpole was； but he did know that Mommy's cooking had begun to taste better as soon as they began to eat it in the kitchen。 He kept discovering little flashes of Dick Hallorann's personality lying around； and they reassured him like a warm touch。
Mommy bad eaten half a sandwich； no soup。 She said Daddy must have gone out for a walk of his own since both the VW and the hotel truck were in the parking lot。 She said she was tired and might lie down for an hour or so； if he thought he could amuse himself and not get into trouble。 Danny told her around a mouthful of cheese and bologna that he thought he could。
〃Why don't you go out into the playground？〃 she asked him。 〃I thought you'd love that place； with a sandbox for your trucks and all。〃 He swallowed and the food went down his throat in a lump that was dry and hard。 〃Maybe I will；〃 he said； turning to the radio and fiddling with it。
〃And all those neat hedge animals；〃 she said； taking his empty plate。 〃Your father's got to get out and trim them pretty soon。〃
〃Yeah；〃 he said。
（Just nasty things 。 。 。 once it had to do with those damn hedges clipped to look like animals 。 。 。）
〃If you see your father before I do； tell him I'm lying down。〃
〃Sure； Mom。〃 She put the dirty dishes in the sink and came back over to him。 〃Are you happy here； Danny？〃 He looked at her guilelessly； a milk mustache on his lip。 〃Uh…huh。〃
〃No more bad dreams？〃
〃No。〃 Tony had e to him once； one night while he was lying in bed； calling his name faintly and from far away。 Danny had squeezed his eyes tightly shut until Tony had gone。
〃You sure？〃
〃Yes； Mom。〃 She seemed satisfied。 〃How's your hand？〃 He flexed it for her。 〃All better。〃 She nodded。 Jack had taken the nest under the Pyrex bowl； full of frozen wasps； out to the incinerator in back of the equipment shed and burned it。 They had seen no more wasps since。 He had written to a lawyer in Boulder； enclosing the snaps of Danny's hand； and the lawyer had called back two days ago…that had put Jack in a foul temper all afternoon。 The lawyer doubted if the pany that had manufactured the bug bomb could be sued successfully because there was only Jack to testify that he had followed directions printed on the package。 Jack had asked the lawyer if they couldn't purchase some others and test them for the same defect。 Yes； the lawyer said； but the results were highly doubtful even if all the test bombs malfunctioned。 He told Jack of a case that involved an extension ladder pany and a man who had broken his back。 Wendy had miserated with Jack； but privately she had just been glad that Danny had gotten off as cheaply as he had。 It was best to leave lawsuits to people who understood them； and that did not include the Torrances。 And they had seen no more wasps since。
〃Go and play； doc。 Have fun。〃 But he hadn't had fun。 He had wandered aimlessly around the hotel； poking into the maids' closets and the janitor's rooms； looking for something interesting； not finding it； a small boy padding along a dark blue carpet woven with twisting black lines。 He had tried a room door from time to time； but of course they were all locked。 The passkey was hanging down in the office； he knew where； but Daddy had told him he shouldn't touch that。 And he didn't want to。 Did be？
（Why are you here？） There was nothing aimless about it after all。 He had been drawn to Room 217 by a morbid kind of curiosity。 He remembered a story Daddy had read to him once when he was drunk。 That had been a long time ago； but the story was just as vivid now as when Daddy had read it to him。 Mommy had scolded Daddy and asked what he was doing； reading a three…year…old baby something so horrible。 The name of the story was Bluebeard。 That was clear in his mind too； because he had thought at first Daddy was saying Bluebird； and there were no bluebirds in the story； or birds of any kind for that matter。 Actually the story was about Bluebeard's wife； a pretty lady that had corn…colored hair like Mommy。 After Bluebeard married her； they lived in a big and ominous castle that was not unlike the Overlook。 And every day Bluebeard went off to work and every day he would tell his pretty little wife not to look in a certain room； although the key to that room was hanging right on a hook； just like the passkey was hanging on the office wall downstairs。 Bluebeard's wife had gotten more and more curious about the locked room。 She tried to peep through the keyhole the way Danny had tried to look through Room 217's peephole with similar unsatisfying results。
There was even a picture of her getting down on her knees and trying to look under the door； but the crack wasn't wide enough。 The door swung wide and 。 。 。
The old fairy tale book had depicted her discovery in ghastly； loving detail。
The image was burned on Danny's mind。 The severed heads of Bluebeard's seven previous wives were in the room； each one on its own pedestal； the eyes turned up to whites； the mouths unhinged and gaping in silent screams。 They were somehow balanced on necks ragged from the broadsword's decapitating swing； and there was blood running down the pedestals。
Terrified； she had turned to flee from the room and the castle； only to discover Bluebeard standing in the doorway； his terrible eyes blazing。 〃I told you not to enter this room；〃 Bluebeard said； unsheathing his sword。 〃Alas； in your curiosity you are like the other seven； and though I loved you best of all your ending shall be as was theirs。 Prepare to die； wretched woman！〃 It seemed vaguely to Danny that the story had bad a happy ending； but that had paled to insignificance beside the two dominant images： the taunting； maddening locked door with some great secret behind it； and the grisly secret itself； repeated more than half a dozen times。 The locked door and behind it the heads； the severed beads。
His hand reached out and stroked the room's doorknob； almost furtively。 He had no idea how long be had been here； standing hypnotized before the bland gray locked door。
（And maybe three times I've thought I've seen things 。 。 。 nasty things 。 。 。
） But Mr。 Hallorann…Dick…had also said he didn't think those things could hurt you。 They were like scary pictures in a book； that was all。 And maybe he wouldn't see anything。 On the other hand 。 。 。
He plunged his left hand into his pocket and it came out holding the passkey。
It had been there all along； of course。
He held it by the square metal tab on the end which had OFFICE printed on it in Magic Marker。 He twirled the key on its chain； watching it go around and around。 After several minutes of this he stopped and slipped the passkey into the lock。 It slid in smoothly； with no hitch； as if it had wanted to be there all along。
（I've thought I've seen things 。 。 。 nasty things 。 。 。 promise me you won't go in there。） （I promise。） And a promise was； of course； very important。 Still； his curiosity itched at him as maddeningly as poison ivy in a place you aren't supposed to scratch。 But it was a dreadful kind of curiosity； the kind that makes you peek through your fingers during the scariest parts of a scary movie。 What was beyond that door would be no movie。
（I don't think those things can hurt you 。 。 。 like scary pictures in a book 。
。 。） Suddenly he reached out with his left hand； not sure of what it was going to do until it had removed the passkey and stuffed it back into his pocket。 He stared at the door a moment longer； blue…gray eyes wide； then turned quickly and walked back down the corridor toward the main hallway that ran at right angles to the corridor he was in。
Something made him pause there and he wasn't sure what for a moment。 Then he r