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stephen king - mist-第6节

小说: stephen king - mist 字数: 每页4000字

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er。
 〃e on; Dad! 〃 Billy was tugging at my pants。
 We all went back to the kitchen。 Brent Norton spared one final glance at the tree that had crashed into our living room。
 〃Too bad it wasn't an apple tree; huh?〃 Billy remarked brightly。 〃That's what my mom said。 Pretty funny; don't you think?〃
 〃Your mother's a real card; Billy;〃 Norton said。 He ruffled Billy's hair in a perfunctory way and his eyes went to the front of Steff's T…shirt again。 No; he was not a man I was ever going to be able to really like。
 〃Listen; why don't you e with us; Steff?〃 I asked。 For no concrete reason I suddenly wanted her to e along。
 〃No; I think I'll stay here and pull some weeds in the garden;〃 she said。 Her eyes shifted toward Norton and then back to me。 〃This morning it seems like I'm the only thing around here that doesn't run on electricity。〃
 Norton laughed too heartily。
 I was getting her message; but tried one more time。 〃You sure ?〃
 〃Sure;〃 she said firmly。 〃The old bend …and …stretch will do me good。〃
 〃Well; don't get too much sun。〃
 〃I'll put on my straw hat。 We'll have sandwiches when you get back。〃
 〃Good。〃
 She turned her face up to be kissed。 〃Be careful。 There might be blowdowns on Kansas Road too; you know。〃
 〃I'll be careful。〃
 〃You be careful; too;〃 she told Billy; and kissed his cheek。
 〃Right; Mom。〃 He banged out of the door and the screen cracked shut behind him。
 Norton and I walked out after him。 〃Why don't we go over to your place and cut the tree off your Bird?〃 I asked him。 All of a sudden I could think of lots of reasons to delay leaving for town。
 〃I don't even want to look at it until after lunch and a few more of these〃 Norton said; holding up his beer can。 〃The damage has been done; Dave old buddy。〃
 I didn't like him calling me buddy; either。
 We all got into the front seat of the Scout (in the far corner of the garage my scarred Fisher plow blade sat glimmering yellow; like the ghost of Christmas yet…to…e) and I backed out; crunching over a litter of storm…blown twigs。 Steff was standing on the cement path which leads to the vegetable patch at the extreme west end of ; our property。 She had a pair of clippers in one gloved hand and the weeding claw in the other。 She had put on her old floppy sunhat; and it cast a band of shadow over her face。 I tapped the horn twice; lightly; and she raised the hand holding the clippers in answer。 We pulled out。 I haven't seen my wife since then。
 We had to stop once on our way up to Kansas Road。 Since the power truck had driven through; a pretty fair…sized pine had dropped across the road。 Norton and I got out and moved it enough so I could inch the Scout by; getting our hands all pitchy in the process。 Billy wanted to help but I waved him back。 I was afraid he might get poked in the eye。 Old trees have always reminded me of the Ents in Tolkien's wonderful Rings saga; only Ents that have gone bad。 Old trees want to hurt you。 It doesn't matter if you're snowshoeing; cross…country skiing; or just taking a walk in the woods。 Old trees want to hurt you; and I think they'd kill you if they could。
 Kansas Road itself was clear; but in several places we saw more lines down。 About a quarter…mile past the Vicki…Linn Campground there was a power pole lying full…length in the ditch; heavy wires snarled around its top like wild hair。
 〃That was some storm;〃 Norton said in his mellifluous; courtroom… trained voice; but he didn't seem to be pontificating now; only solemn。
 〃Yeah; it was。〃
 〃Look; Dad!〃
 He was pointing at the remains of the Ellitches' barn。 For twelve years it had been sagging tiredly in Tommy Ellitch's back field; up to its hips in sunflowers; goldenrod; and Lolly…e…see…me。 Every fall I would think it could not last through another winter。 And every spring it would still be there。 But it wasn't anymore。 All that remained was a splintered wreckage and a roof that had been mostly stripped of shingles。 Its number had e up。 And for some reason that echoed solemnly; even ominously; inside me。 The storm had e and smashed it flat。
 Norton drained his beer; crushed the can in one hand; and dropped it indifferently to the floor of the Scout。 Billy opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again…good boy。 Norton came from New Jersey; where there was no bottle…can…law; I guess he could be forgiven for squashing my nickel when I could barely remember not to do it myself。
 Billy started fooling with the radio; and I asked him to see if WOXO was back on the air。 He dialed up to FM 92 and got nothing but a blank hum。 He looked at me and shrugged。 I thought for a moment。 What other stations were on the far side of that peculiar fog front?
 〃Try; WBLM;〃 I said。
 He dialed down to the other end; passing WJBQ…FM and WIGY…FM on the way。 They were there; doing business as usual 。。。 but WBLM; Maine's premier progressive…rock station; was off the air。
 〃Funny;〃 I said。
 〃What's that?〃 Norton asked。
 〃Nothing。 Just thinking out loud。〃
 Billy had tuned back to the musical cereal on WJBQ。 Pretty soon we got to town。
 The Norge Washateria in the shopping center was closed; it being impossible to run a coin…op laundry without electricity; but both the Bridgton Pharmacy and the Federal Foods Supermarket were open。 The parking lot was pretty full; and as always in the middle of the summer; a lot of the cars had out…of…state plates。 Little knots of people stood here and there in the sun; noodling about the storm; women with women; men with men。
 I saw Mrs。 Carmody; she of the stuffed animals and the stump…water lore。 She sailed into the supermarket decked out in an amazing canary…yellow pantsuit。 A purse that looked the size of a small Samsonite suitcase was slung over one forearm。 Then an idiot on a Yamaha roared past me; missing my front bumper by a few scant inches。 He wore a denim jacket; mirror sunglasses; and no helmet。
 〃Look at that stupid shit;〃 Norton growled。
 I circled the parking lot once; looking for a good space。 There were none。 I was just resigning myself to a long walk from the far end of the lot when I got lucky。 A lime…green Cadillac the size of a small cabin cruiser was easing out of a slot in the rank closest to the market's doors。 The moment it was gone; I slid into the space。
 I gave Billy Steffs shopping list。 He was five; but he could read printing。 〃Get a cart and get started。 I want to give your mother a jingle。 Mr。 Norton will help you。 And I'll be right along。〃
 We got out and Billy immediately grabbed Mr。 Norton's hand。 He'd been taught not to cross the parking lot without holding an adult's hand when he was younger and hadn't yet lost the habit。 Norton looked surprised for a moment; and then smiled a little。 I could almost forgive him for feeling Steff up with his eyes。 The two of them went into the market。
 I strolled over to the pay phone; which was on the wall between the drugstore and the Norge。 A sweltering woman in a purple sunsuit was jogging the cutoff switch up and down。 I stood behind her with my hands in my pockets; wondering why I felt so uneasy about Steff; and why the unease should be all wrapped up with that line of white but unsparkling fog; the radio stations that were off the air
 and the Arrowhead Project。
 The woman in the purple sunsuit had a sunburn and freckles on her fat shoulders。 She looked like a sweaty orange baby。 She slammed the phone back down on its cradle; turned toward the drugstore and saw me there。
 〃Save your dime;〃 she said。 〃Just dah…dah…dah。〃 She walked grumpily away。
 I almost slapped my forehead。 The phone lines were down someplace; of course。 Some of them were underground; but nowhere near all of them。 I tried the phone anyway。 The pay phones in the area are what Steff calls Paranoid Pay Phones。 Instead of putting your dime right in; you get a dial tone and make your call。 When someone answers; there's an automatic cutoff and you have to shove your dime in before your party hangs up。 They're irritating; but that day it did save me my dime。 There was no dial tone。 As the lady had said; it was just dah…dah…dah。
 I hung up and walked slowly toward the market; just in time to see an amusing little incident。 An elderly couple walked toward the IN door; chatting together。 And still chatting; they walked right into it。 They stopped talking in a jangle and the woman squawked her surprise。 They stared at each other ically。 Then they laughed; and the old guy pushed the door open for his wife with some effort…those electric…eye doors are heavy … and they went in。 When the electricity goes off; it catches you in a hundred different ways。
 I pushed the door open myself and noticed the lack of air conditioning first thing。 Usually in the summer they have it cranked up high enough to give you frostbite if you stay in the market more than an hour at a stretch。
 Like most modern markets; the Federal was constructed like a Skinner box…modern marketing techniques turn all customers into white rats。 The stuff you really needed; staples; like bread; milk; meat; beer; and frozen dinners; was all on the far side of the store。 To get there you had to walk past all the impulse items known to modern man…everything from Cricket lighters to rubber dog bones。
 

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