Zero Hour

“Oh, it was to be so jolly! What a game!”

The imminent alien invasion is framed early on as something innocent. This description both encapsulates the children’s initial innocence and highlights that the adults will not take the proceedings seriously.

“The adult civilization passed and repassed the busy youngsters, jealous of the fierce energy of the wild tots, tolerantly amused at their flourishings, longing to join in themselves.”

This quote establishes how deeply divided the adults and the children are by painting “adult civilization” as something separate from the wildness of childhood. It also shows that the adults may have complex feelings about their separation from childhood but cannot do anything about it.

“The perfect weapons were held in equal trust by all nations.”

The suggestion that adult civilization has come to an agreement about the holding of weapons shows the adults’ complacency. They do not realize that the most perfect weapons are, in fact, their children.

“I was the same way at your age. Always life and death. I know.”

In this dialogue, Mrs. Morris posits that childhood is a time of extremes, of hyperbolic emotions. This is ironic given that the matter at hand, although she doesn’t know it, is literally a life-or-death situation.

“‘And what’s im-pres-sion-able?’ It took her a minute to say it. ‘Why, it means—’ Her mother looked at the floor, laughing gently. ‘It means—to be a child, dear.’”

During this exchange, it is established that the aliens know exactly what they’re doing—taking advantage of the innocence of children in order to infiltrate the planet. The idea that only children are impressionable also helps widen the gap between adults and children in the story.

“Parents learn to shut their ears.”

This line emphasizes Generational Alienation. The adults say it almost jokingly, as an explanation for how they didn’t annoy their parents in childhood, but unknown to them, it is a deeper truth about their own situation and their lack of understanding regarding what their children are saying.

“Mrs. Morris’s eyes were half-closed; her tongue slid slowly, thoughtfully over her lower lip. ‘Eh,’ she jerked. ‘Oh, nothing. Just thought about that. Shutting ears and such. Never mind. Where were we?’”

This is a turning point in the story: Mrs. Morris hears a bit of the truth in the idea that “parents learn to shut their ears,” but she dismisses her intuition in favor of hewing to her adult logic. This is essential to her character arc.

“The hour drowsed by. The day waned. The sun lowered in the peaceful blue sky. Shadows lengthened on the green lawns. The laughter and excitement continued. One little girl ran away, crying.”

In these lines, the passage of time is emphasized as the zero hour draws nearer, and the peaceful and tranquil day is interrupted by a crying child. This foreshadows the terror to come.

“‘Yeah. She’s a scarebaby. We won’t let her play, now. She’s getting too old to play. I guess she grew up all of a sudden.’ ‘Is that why she cried? Nonsense. Give me a civil answer, young lady, or inside you come!’”

This exchange between Mink and Mrs. Morris illustrates the typical breakdown of communication between adults and children in the story: The child tells the truth and the adult doesn’t believe her. It also demonstrates the harsh, black-and-white way that Mink understands the categories of adult and child.

“Children, children. Children and love and hate, side by side. Sometimes children loved you, hated you, all in half a second.”

This is the most complex moment of understanding about children demonstrated by an adult over the course of the story. Mrs. Morris comes close to understanding that children are not creatures of simplicity, silliness, and innocence, but this thought does not lead her anywhere meaningful.

“Time passed. A curious, waiting silence came upon the street, deepening.”

The passing of time begins to feel more sinister here, as contrasted with the earlier “The hour drowsed by. The day waned.” This foreshadows that the passing of time is leading up to something—that is, the zero hour, and consequently the invasion.

“She strained forward on the edge of the chair, listening. The children were silent. Too silent.”

Here, Mrs. Morris herself becomes attuned to the sense of anticipation that has been building in the text. The former noisiness of the children takes on new significance, turning the absence of the sounds of play into foreshadowing.

“‘Those children haven’t anything dangerous out there, have they?’ […] ‘Heck, no,’ said Henry. ‘I looked.’”

All of the foreshadowing thus far suggests to readers that it is far too late for Mrs. Morris to be asking this question. Mr. Morris demonstrates that he, like all the other adults in the story, is looking without seeing. He looked at what the children were doing and saw only innocent play.

“Involuntarily, Mrs. Morris screamed. ‘Up this way!’ she cried, senselessly, knowing no sense, no reason. Perhaps she saw something from the corners of her eyes, perhaps she smelled a new odor or heard a new noise. There was no time to argue with Henry to convince him. Let him think her insane. Yes, insane!”

This is the moment in the story when the adults’ adherence to their particular brand of logic breaks down. Mrs. Morris’s eyes have been opened and the feeling of seeing things as they actually are, as the children see them, breaks her sense of reality. This demonstrates how wide the gap is between the adults’ and children’s experiences.