Stegman inarticulately screams and heads out. Nurse Carrie works to her strength, i.e. standing there and being completely useless. Renee finally yells at her to leave. Mona continues rocking as her mother breaks down in sobs.

And now Peter -- remember him? Tenderized upon the bumper of a large vehicle? Now walking in a shadowy dream world, singled out by supernatural forces beyond his ken for what amounts to a cosmic game of chess? Wow, that last sentence could so totally sum up 70 percent of Stephen King's protagonists. Anyway, little Mary is calling his name to wake him up. He opens his eyes and sees an antsy-looking Mary with a bell around her neck. He asks who she is; Mary introduces herself. Peter asks, "Why do you look so sad?" She explains, "I lost my dolly." Peter demonstrates his tenuous grasp on the freakiness of the situation by slurring, "Is that all?" Mary tells him, "I'm afraid." He slurs, "What are you afraid of, honey?" Oh, of that surly adolescent ghost hanging out in your monitor. He appears suddenly and snarls with his vampire teeth, and Mary cries, "Of him! Of him!"

Paul picks Mary up, and as the bell chimes, he snarls, "Leave her alone, short-time. Butt out. That'd be my advice. She's not the only one who has a bell." He makes it sound like all the ghosts are equipped with them. Someone should tell Mrs. D. Then she could stop dangling that stupid crystal around, listen for the bell, and cut to the chase with questions like, "Why can't you people make a little small talk before working around to the threats?" or "Would it kill you to say what you mean? Um. Metaphorically?" Peter gasps to Mary, "How?" and she cries, "Let Antubis help you!" before Paul claps a hand over her mouth and hustles her off. Oh, if he had an anteater, he'd be baffled in the morning. He'd still be baffled in the evening / all over his be-ed. Sorry -- I just realized I recapped a scene in which the three participants were named Peter, Paul, and Mary, and I began channeling "If I Had a Hammer."