sk.thetalisman-第132节

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　inside　the　trolley…barn…Morgan　Sloat's　private　train…station　of　yore…moved　with　a　nasty　slithering　bump；　but　Jack　didn't　even　look　toward　it。
　　He　reached　the　road；　crossed　it；　and　walked　to　the　edge。
　　　
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　　Near　the　middle　of　December　in　the　year　1981；　a　boy　named　Jack　Sawyer　stood　where　the　water　and　the　land　came　together；　hands　in　the　pockets　of　his　jeans；　looking　out　at　the　steady　Pacific。　He　was　twelve　years　old　and　extraordinarily　beautiful　for　his　age。　His　brown　hair　was　long…probably　too　long…but　the　sea…breeze　swept　it　back　from　a　fine；　clear　brow。　He　stood　thinking　of　his　mother；　who　was　dying；　and　of　friends；　both　absent　and　present；　and　worlds　within　worlds；　turning　in　their　courses。
　　I've　e　the　distance；　he　thought；　and　shivered。　Coast　to　coast　with　Travelling　Jack　Sawyer。　His　eyes　abruptly　filled　with　tears。　He　breathed　deeply　of　the　salt。　Here　he　was…and　the　Talisman　was　close　by。
　　'Jack！'
　　Jack　didn't　look　at　him　at　first；　his　gaze　was　held　by　the　Pacific；　by　the　sunlight　gleaming　gold　on　top　of　the　waves。　He　was　here；　he　had　made　it。　He…
　　'Jack！'　Richard　struck　his　shoulder；　bringing　him　out　of　his　daze。
　　'Huh？'
　　'Look！'　Richard　was　gaping；　pointing　at　something　down　the　road；　in　the　direction　in　which　Point　Venuti　presumably　lay。　'Look　there！'　
　　Jack　looked。　He　understood　Richard's　surprise；　but　he　felt　none　himself…or　no　more　than　he　had　felt　when　Richard　had　told　him　the　name　of　the　motel　where　he　and　his　father　had　stayed　in　Point　Venuti。　No；　not　much　surprise；　but…
　　But　it　was　damned　good　to　see　his　mother　again。
　　Her　face　was　twenty　feet　high；　and　it　was　a　younger　face　than　Jack　could　remember。　It　was　Lily　as　she　had　looked　at　the　height　of　her　career。　Her　hair；　a　glorious　be…bop　shade　of　brassy　blond；　was　pulled　back　in　a　Tuesday　Weld　ponytail。　Her　insouciant　go…to…hell　grin　was；　however；　all　her　own。　No　one　else　in　films　had　ever　smiled　that　way…she　had　invented　it；　and　she　still　held　the　patent。　She　was　looking　back　over　one　bare　shoulder。　At　Jack　。　。　。　at　Richard　。　。　。　at　the　blue　Pacific。
　　It　was　his　mother　。　。　。　but　when　he　blinked；　the　face　changed　the　slightest　bit。　The　line　of　chin　and　jaw　grew　rounder；　the　cheekbones　less　pronounced；　the　hair　darker；　the　eyes　an　even　deeper　blue。　Now　it　was　the　face　of　Laura　DeLoessian；　mother　of　Jason。　Jack　blinked　again；　and　it　was　his　mother　again…his　mother　at　twenty…eight；　grinning　her　cheerful　fuckya…if…you…can't…take…a…joke　defiance　at　the　world。
　　It　was　a　billboard。　Across　the　top　of　it　ran　this　legend：
　　
　　THIRD　ANNUAL　KILLER　B　FILM　FESTIVAL
　　POINT　VENUTI；　CALIFORNIA
　　BITKER　THEATER
　　DECEMBER　10TH　…　DECEMBER　20TH
　　THIS　YEAR　FEATURING　LILY　CAVANAUGH
　　'QUEEN　OF　THE　B'S'
　　
　　'Jack；　it's　your　mother；'　Richard　said。　His　voice　was　hoarse　with　awe。　'Is　it　just　a　coincidence？　It　can't　be；　can　it？'　
　　Jack　shook　his　head。　No；　not　a　coincidence。
　　The　word　his　eyes　kept　fixing　on；　of　course；　was　QUEEN。
　　'e　on；'　he　said　to　Richard。　'I　think　we're　almost　there。'　
　　The　two　of　them　walked　side　by　side　down　the　road　toward　Point　Venuti。
　　
　　　CHAPTER　38
　　　The　End　of　the　Road
　　　
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　　Jack　inspected　Richard's　drooping　posture　and　glistening　face　carefully　as　they　walked　along。　Richard　now　looked　as　though　he　were　dragging　himself　along　on　will　power　alone。　A　few　more　wet…looking　pimples　had　blossomed　on　his　face。
　　'Are　you　okay；　Richie？'
　　'No。　I　don't　feel　too　good。　But　I　can　still　walk；　Jack。　You　don't　have　to　carry　me。'　He　bent　his　head　and　plodded　glumly　on。　Jack　saw　that　his　friend；　who　had　so　many　memories　of　that　peculiar　little　railway　and　that　peculiar　little　station；　was　suffering　far　more　than　he　from　the　reality　that　now　existed…rusty；　broken　ties；　weeds；　poison　ivy　。　。　。　and　at　the　end；　a　ramshackle　building　from　which　all　the　bright；　remembered　paint　had　faded；　a　building　where　something　slithered　uneasily　in　the　dark。
　　I　feel　like　my　leg　is　caught　in　some　stupid　trap；　Richard　had　said；　and　Jack　thought　he　could　understand　that　well　enough　。　。　。　but　not　with　the　depth　of　Richard's　understanding。　That　was　more　understanding　than　he　was　sure　he　could　bear。　A　slice　of　Richard's　childhood　had　been　burned　out　of　him；　turned　inside…out。　The　railway　and　the　dead　station　with　its　staring　glassless　windows　must　have　seemed　like　dreadful　parodies　of　themselves　to　Richard…yet　more　bits　of　the　past　destroyed　in　the　wake　of　everything　he　was　learning　or　admitting　about　his　father。　Richard's　entire　life；　as　much　as　Jack's；　had　begun　to　fold　into　the　pattern　of　the　Territories；　and　Richard　had　been　given　much　less　preparation　for　this　transformation。
　　　
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　　As　for　what　he　had　told　Richard　about　the　Talisman；　Jack　would　have　sworn　it　was　the　truth…the　Talisman　knew　they　were　ing。　He　had　begun　feeling　it　just　about　when　he　had　seen　the　billboard　shining　out　with　his　mother's　picture；　now　the　feeling　was　urgent　and　powerful。　It　was　as　if　a　great　animal　had　awakened　some　miles　away；　and　its　purring　made　the　earth　resonate　。　。　。　or　as　if　every　single　bulb　inside　a　hundred…story　building　just　over　the　horizon　had　just　gone　on；　making　a　blaze　of　light　strong　enough　to　conceal　the　stars　。　。　。　or　as　if　someone　had　switched　on　the　biggest　magnet　in　the　world；　which　was　tugging　at　Jack's　belt　buckle；　at　the　change　in　his　pockets　and　the　fillings　in　his　teeth；　and　would　not　be　satisfied　until　it　had　pulled　him　into　its　heart。　That　great　animal　purring；　that　sudden　and　drastic　illumination；　that　magnetic　yearning…all　these　echoed　in　Jack's　chest。　Something　out　there；　something　in　the　direction　of　Point　Venuti；　wanted　Jack　Sawyer；　and　what　Jack　Sawyer　chiefly　knew　of　the　object　calling　him　so　viscerally　was　that　it　was　big。　Big。　No　small　thing　could　own　such　power。　It　was　elephant…sized；　city…sized。
　　And　Jack　wondered　about　his　capacity　to　handle　something　so　monumental。　The　Talisman　had　been　imprisoned　in　a　magical　and　sinister　old　hotel；　presumably　it　had　been　put　there　not　only　to　keep　it　from　evil　hands　but　at　least　in　part　because　it　was　hard　for　anybody　to　handle　it；　whatever　his　intentions。　Maybe；　Jack　wondered；　Jason　had　been　the　only　being　capable　of　handling　it…capable　of　dealing　with　it　without　doing　harm　either　to　himself　or　to　the　Talisman　itself。　Feeling　the　strength　and　urgency　of　its　call　to　him；　Jack　could　only　hope　that　he　would　not　weaken　before　the　Talisman。
　　'　'You'll　understand；　Rich；'　'　Richard　surprised　him　by　saying。　His　voice　was　dull　and　low。　'My　father　said　that。　He　said　I'd　understand。　'You'll　understand；　Rich。'　'
　　'Yeah；'　Jack　said；　looking　worriedly　at　his　friend。　'How　are　you　feeling；　Richard？'　
　　In　addition　to　the　sores　surrounding　his　mouth；　Richard　now　had　a　collection　of　angry…looking　raised　red　dots　or　bumps　across　his　pimply　forehead　and　his　temples。　It　was　as　though　a　swarm　of　insects　had　managed　to　burrow　just　under　the　surface　of　his　protesting　skin。　For　a　moment　Jack　had　a　flash　of　Richard　Sloat　on　the　morning　he　had　climbed　in　his　window　at　Nelson　House；　Thayer　School；　Richard　Sloat　with　his　glasses　riding　firmly　on　the　bridge　of　his　nose　and　his　sweater　tucked　neatly　into　his　pants。　Would　that　maddeningly　correct；　unbudgeable　boy　ever　return？
　　'I　can　still　walk；'　Richard　said。　'But　is　this　what　he　meant？　Is　this　the　understanding　I　was　supposed　to　get；　or　have；　or　whatever　the　hell　。　。　。　？'
　　'You've　got　something　new　on　your　face；'　Jack　said。　'You　want　to　rest　for　a　while？'
　　'Naw；'　Richard　said；　still　speaking　from　the　bottom　of　a　muddy　barrel。　'And　I　can　feel　that　rash。　It　itches。　I　think　I　got　it　all　over　my　back；　too。'
　　'Let　me　see；'　Jack　said。　Richard　stopped　in　the　middle　of　the　road；　obedient　as　a　dog。　He　closed　his　eyes　and　breathed　through　his　mouth。　The　red　spots　blazed　on　his　forehead　and　temples。　Jack　stepped　behind　him；　raised　his　jacket；　and　lifted　the　back　of　his　stained　and　dirty　blue　button…down　shirt。　The　spots　were　smaller　here；　not　as　raised　or　as　angry…looking；　they　spread　from　Richard's　thin　shoulder　blades　to　the　small　of　his　back；　no　larger　than　ticks。
　　Richard　let　out　a　big　dispirited　unconscious　sigh。
　　'You　got　em　there；　but　it's　not　so　bad；'　Jack　said。
　　'Thanks；'　Richard　said。　He　inhaled；　lifted　his　head。　Overhead　the　gray　sky　seemed　heavy　enough　to　e　crashing　to　earth。　The　ocean　seethed　against　the　rocks；　far　down　the　rough　slope。　'It's　only　a　couple　of　miles；　really；'　Richard　said。　'I'll　make　it。'
　　'I'll　piggyback　you　when　you　need　it；'　Jack　said；　unwittingly　exposing　his　conviction　that　before　long　Richard　would　need　to　be　carried　again。
　　Richard　shook　his　head　and　made　an　inefficient　stab　at　shoving　his　shirt　back　in　his　trousers。　'Sometimes　I　think　I　。　。　。　sometimes　I　think　I　can't…'
　　'We're　going　to　go　into　that　hotel；　Richard；'　Jack　said；　putting　his　arm　through　Richard's　and　half…forcing　him　to　step　forward。　'You　and　me。　Together。　I　don't　have　the　faintest　idea　of　what　happens　once　we　get　in　there；　but　you　and　I　are　going　in。　No　matter　who　tries　to　stop　us。　Just　remember　that。'　
　　Richard　gave　him　a　look　half…fearful；　half…grateful。　Now　Jack　could　see　the　irregular　outlines　of　future　bumps　crowding　beneat