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第149节

sk.thetalisman-第149节

小说: sk.thetalisman 字数: 每页4000字

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  Then his eyes exploded。
  'Lori; turn off the gas!' one of the customers screamed。 He got down off his stool; and turned toward Smokey。 'Smokey; tell her…' The man wailed with fright as he saw blood gushing from the holes where Smokey Updike's eyes had been。
  A moment later the entire Oatley Tap blew sky…high; and before the fire…trucks could arrive from Dogtown and Elmira; most of downtown was in flames。
  No great loss; children; can you say amen。
   
   5
  
  At Thayer School; where normality now reigned as it always had (with one brief interlude which those on campus remembered only as a series of vague; related dreams); the last classes of the day had just begun。 What was light snow in In…diana was a cold drizzle here in Illinois。 Students sat dreaming and thoughtful in their classes。
  Suddenly the bells in the chapel began to peal。 Heads came up。 Eyes widened。 All over the Thayer campus; fading dreams suddenly seemed to renew themselves。
   
   6
  
  Etheridge had been sitting in advanced…math class and pressing his hand rhythmically up and down against a raging hard…on while he stared unseeingly at the logarithms old Mr。 Hunkins was piling up on the blackboard。 He was thinking about the cute little townie waitress he would be boffing later on。 She wore garter…belts instead of pantyhose; and was more than willing to leave her stockings on while they fucked。 Now Etheridge stared around at the windows; forgetting his erection; forgetting the waitress with her long legs and smooth nylons…suddenly; for no reason at all; Sloat was on his mind。 Prissy little Richard Sloat; who should have been safely classi…fiable as a wimp but who somehow wasn't。 He thought about Sloat and wondered if he was all right。 Somehow he thought that maybe Sloat; who had left school unexcused four days ago and who hadn't been heard from since; wasn't doing so good。
  
  In the headmaster's office; Mr。 Dufrey had been discussing the expulsion of a boy named George Hatfield for cheating with his furious…and rich…father when the bells began to jingle out their unscheduled little tune。 When it ended; Mr。 Dufrey found himself on his hands and knees with his gray hair hanging in his eyes and his tongue lolling over his lips。 Hatfield the Elder was standing by the door…cringing against it; actually…his eyes wide and his jaw agape; his anger forgotten in wonder and fear。 Mr。 Dufrey had been crawling around on his rug barking like a dog。
  
  Albert the Blob had just been getting himself a snack when the bells began to ring。 He looked toward the window for a moment; frowning the way a person frowns when he is trying to remember something that is right on the tip of his tongue。 He shrugged and went back to opening a bag of nacho chips…his mother had just sent him a whole case。 His eyes widened。 He thought…just for a moment; but a moment was long enough…that the bag was full of plump; squirming white bugs。
  He fainted dead away。
  When he awoke and worked up enough courage to peer into the bag again; he saw it had been nothing but a hallucination。 Of course! What else? All the same; it was a hallucination which exercised a strange power over him in the future; whenever he opened a bag of chips; or a candy bar; or a Slim Jim; or a package of Big Jerk beef jerky; he saw those bugs in his mind's eye。 By spring; Albert had lost thirty…five pounds; was playing on the Thayer tennis team; and had gotten laid。 Albert was delirious with ecstasy。 For the first time in his life he felt that he might survive his mother's love。
   
   7
  
  They all looked around when the bells began to ring。 Some laughed; some frowned; a few burst into tears。 A pair of dogs howled from somewhere; and that was passing strange because no dogs were allowed on campus。
  The tune the bells rang was not in the puterized schedule of tunes…the disgruntled head custodian later verified it。 A campus wag suggested in that week's issue of the school paper that some eager beaver had programmed the tune with Christmas vacation in mind。
  It had been 'Happy Days Are Here Again。'
   
   8
  
  Although she had believed herself far too old to catch pregnant; no blood had e to the mother of Jack Sawyer's Wolf at the time of the Change some twelve months ago。 Three months ago she had given birth to triplets…two litter…sisters and one litter…brother。 Her labor had been hard; and the foreknowledge that one of her older children was about to die had been upon her。 That child; she knew; had gone into the Other Place to protect the herd; and he would die in that Other Place; and she would never see him anymore。 This was very hard; and she had wept in more than the pain of her delivery。
  Yet now; as she slept with her new young beneath a full moon; all of them safely away from the herd for the time being; she rolled over with a smile on her face and pulled the newest litter…brother to her and began to lick him。 Still sleeping himself; the Wolfling put his arms around his mother's shaggy neck and pressed his cheek against her downy breast; and now they both smiled; in her alien sleep a human thought arose: God pounds his nails well and true。 And the moonlight of that lovely world where all smells were good shone down on the two of them as they slept in each other's arms with the litter…sisters nearby。
   
   9
  
  In the town of Goslin; Ohio (not far from Amanda; and some thirty miles south of Columbus); a man named Buddy Parkins was shovelling chickenshit in a henhouse at dusk。 A cheesecloth mask was tied over his mouth and nose to keep the choking white cloud of powdered guano he was raising from getting up his nose and into his mouth。 The air reeked of ammonia。 The stink had given him a headache。 He also had a backache; because he was tall and the henhouse wasn't。 All things considered; he would have to say that this was one bitch…kitty of a job。 He had three sons; and every damned one of them seemed to be unavailable when the henhouse needed to be swamped out。 Only thing to be said about it was that he was almost done; and…
  The kid! Jesus Christ! That kid!
  He suddenly remembered the boy who had called himself Lewis Farren with total clarity and a stunned kind of love。 The boy who had claimed to be going to his aunt; Helen Vaughan; in the town of Buckeye Lake; the boy who had turned to Buddy when Buddy had asked him if he was running away and had in that turning; revealed a face filled with honest goodness and an unexpected; amazing beauty…a beauty that had made Buddy think of rainbows glimpsed at the end of storms; and sunsets at the end of days that have groaned and sweated with work that has been well done and not scamped。
  He straightened up with a gasp and bonked his head on the henhouse beams hard enough to make his eyes water 。 。 。 but he was grinning crazily all the same。 Oh my God; that boy is THERE; he's THERE; Buddy Parkins thought; and although he had no idea of where 'there' was; he was suddenly overtaken by a sweet; violent feeling of absolute adventure; never; since reading Treasure Island at the age of twelve and cupping a girl's breast in his hand for the first time at fourteen; had he felt so staggered; so excited; so full of warm joy。 He began to laugh。 He dropped his shovel; and while the hens stared at him with stupid amazement; Buddy Parkins danced a shuffling jig in the chickenshit; laughing behind his mask and snapping his fingers。
  'He's there!' Buddy Parkins yelled to the chickens; laughing。 'By diddly…damn; he's there; he made it after all; he's there and he's got it!'
  Later; he almost thought…almost; but never quite…that he must have somehow gotten high on the stench of the chicken…dust。 That wasn't all; dammit; that wasn't。 He had had some kind of revelation; but he could no longer remember what it had been 。 。 。 he supposed it was like that British poet some high…school English teacher had told them about: the guy had taken a big dose of opium and had started to write some poems about a make…believe Chink whorehouse while he was stoned 。 。 。 except when he came down to earth again he couldn't finish it。
  Like that; he thought; but somehow he knew it wasn't; and although he couldn't remember exactly what had caused the joy; he; like Donny Keegan; never forgot the way the joy had e; all deliciously unbidden…he never forgot that sweet; violent feeling of having touched some great adventure; of having looked for a moment at some beautiful white light that was; in fact; every color of the rainbow。
   
   10
  
  There's an old Bobby Darin song which goes: 'And the ground coughs up some roots/wearing denim shirts and boots;/haul em away 。 。 。 haul em away。' This was a song the children in the area of Cayuga; Indiana; could have related to enthusiastically; if it hadn't been popular quite a bit before their time。 The Sunlight Home had been empty for only a little more than a week; and already it had gotten a reputation with the local kids as a haunted house。 Considering the grisly remains the payloaders had found near the rock wall at the back of Far Field; this was not surprising。 The local Realtor's FOR SALE sign looked as if it had been standing on the lawn for a year instea

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