`` it 's gon na be all right , '' he told her , and rocked her , not really believing it , but it was the litany , it was the psalter , the voice of the adult calling down the black well of years into the miserable pit of terrorized childhood ; it was what you said when things went wrong ; it was the nightlight that could not banish the monster from the closet but perhaps only keep it at bay for a little while ; it was the voice without power that must speak nevertheless .