dk.solesurvivor-第4节

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and；　holding　his　shoes　and　socks　in　his　left　hand。
　　In　his　right　hand；　held　down　at　his　side；　was　another　object；　which　might　be　a　small　radio　or　a　CD　player。　It　might　also　be　a　walkie…talkie。
　　The　tall　guy　was　cancerously　tanned；　with　sun…bleached　blond　hair；　but　the　smaller　man　was　pale；　a　stranger　to　beaches。
　　Popping　the　tab　on　another　beer　and　inhaling　the　fragrant　foamy　mist　that　sprayed　from　the　can；　Joe　turned　to　the　sea　once　more。
　　Although　neither　of　the　men　looked　as　if　he'd　left　home　this　morning　with　the　intention　of　going　to　the　shore；　they　appeared　no　more　out　of　place　than　Joe　did。　The　kids　had　said　that　the　watchers　stank　of　cop；　but　even　though　he'd　been　a　crime　reporter　for　fourteen　years；　Joe　couldn't　catch　the　scent。
　　Anyway；　there　was　no　reason　for　the　police　to　be　interested　in　him。　With　the　murder　rate　soaring；　rape　almost　as　mon　as　romance；　and　robbery　so　prevalent　that　half　the　populace　seemed　to　be　stealing　from　the　other　half；　the　cops　would　not　waste　time　harassing　him　for　drinking　an　alcoholic　beverage　on　a　public　beach。
　　High　on　silent　pinions；　shining　white；　three　sea　gulls　flew　northward　from　the　distant　pier；　at　first　paralleling　the　shoreline。　Then　they　soared　over　the　shimmering　bay　and　wheeled　across　the　sky。
　　Eventually　Joe　glanced　back　toward　the　lifeguard　tower。　The　two　men　were　no　longer　there。
　　He　faced　the　sea　again。
　　Ining　breakers　broke；　spilling　shatters　of　foam　on　the　sand。　He　watched　the　waves　as　a　willing　subject　might　watch　a　hypnotist's　pendant　swinging　on　a　silver　chain。
　　This　time；　however；　the　tides　did　not　mesmerize；　and　he　was　unable　to　guide　his　troubled　mind　into　calmer　currents。　Like　the　effect　of　a　planet　on　its　moon；　the　calendar　pulled　Joe　into　its　orbit；　and　he　couldn't　stop　his　thoughts　from　revolving　around　the　date：
　　August　15；　August　15；　August　15。　This　first　anniversary　of　the　crash　had　an　overwhelming　gravity　that　crushed　him　down　into　memories　of　his　loss。
　　When　the　remains　of　his　wife　and　children　had　been　conveyed　to　him；　after　the　investigation　of　the　crash　and　the　meticulous　cataloguing　of　both　the　organic　and　inorganic　debris；　Joe　was　given　only　fragments　of　their　bodies。　The　sealed　caskets　were　the　size　usually　reserved　for　the　burial　of　infants。　He　received　them　as　if　he　were　taking　possession　of　the　sacred　bones　of　saints　nestled　in　reliquaries。
　　Although　he　understood　the　devastating　effects　of　the　airliner's　impact；　and　though　he　knew　that　an　unsparing　fire　had　flashed　through　the　debris；　how　strange　it　had　seemed　to　Joe　that　Michelle's　and　the　girls'　physical　remains　should　be　so　small。　They　had　been　such　enormous　presences　in　his　life。
　　Without　them；　the　world　seemed　to　be　an　alien　place。　He　didn't　feel　as　if　he　belonged　here　until　he　was　at　least　two　hours　out　of　bed。　Some　days　the　planet　turned　twenty…four　hours　without　rotating　Joe　into　an　acmodation　with　life。　Clearly　this　was　one　of　them。
　　After　he　finished　the　second　Coors；　he　put　the　empty　can　in　the　cooler。　He　wasn't　ready　to　drive　to　the　cemetery　yet；　but　he　needed　to　visit　the　nearest　public　restroom。
　　Joe　rose　to　his　feet；　turned；　and　glimpsed　the　tall　blond　guy　in　the　green　Hawaiian　shirt。　The　man；　without　binoculars　for　the　moment；　was　not　south　near　the　lifeguard　tower　but　north；　about　sixty　feet　away；　sitting　alone　in　the　sand。　To　screen　himself　from　Joe；　he　had　taken　a　position　beyond　two　young　couples　on　blankets　and　a　Mexican　family　that　had　staked　their　territory　with　folding　chairs　and　two　big　yellow…striped　beach　umbrellas。
　　Casually　Joe　scanned　the　surrounding　beach。　The　shorter　of　the　two　possible　cops；　the　one　wearing　the　predominantly　red　shirt；　was　not　in　sight。
　　The　guy　in　the　green　shirt　studiously　avoided　looking　directly　at　Joe。　He　cupped　one　hand　to　his　right　ear；　as　if　were　wearing　a　bad　hearing　aid　and　needed　to　block　the　music　from　the　sun…bathers'　radios　in　order　to　focus　on　something　else　that　he　wanted　to　hear。
　　At　this　distance；　Joe　could　not　be　certain；　but　he　thought　the　man's　lips　were　moving。　He　appeared　to　be　engaged　in　a　conversation　with　his　missing　panion。
　　Leaving　his　towel　and　cooler；　Joe　walked　south　toward　the　public　restrooms。　He　didn't　need　to　glance　back　to　know　that　the　guy　in　the　green　Hawaiian　shirt　was　watching　him。
　　On　reconsideration；　he　decided　that　getting　soused　on　the　sand　probably　was　still　against　the　law；　even　these　days。　After　all；　a　society　with　such　an　enlightened　tolerance　of　corruption　and　savagery　needed　to　bear　down　hard　on　minor　offences　to　convince　itself　that　it　still　had　standards。
　　
　　Nearer　the　pier；　the　crowds　had　grown　since　Joe's　arrival。　In　the　amusement　centre；　the　roller　coaster　clattered。　Riders　squealed。
　　He　took　off　his　sunglasses　as　he　entered　the　busy　public　restrooms。
　　The　men's　lavatory　stank　of　urine　and　disinfectant。　In　the　middle　of　the　floor　between　the　toilet　stalls　and　the　sinks；　a　large　cockroach；　half　crushed　but　still　alive；　hitched　around　and　around　in　a　circle；　having　lost　all　sense　of　direction　and　purpose。　Everyone　avoided　it…some　with　amusement；　some　with　disgust　or　indifference。
　　After　he　had　used　a　urinal；　as　he　washed　his　hands；　Joe　studied　the　other　men　in　the　mirror；　seeking　a　conspirator。　He　settled　on　a　long…haired　fourteen…year…old　in　swim　trunks　and　sandals。
　　When　the　boy　went　to　the　paper…towel　dispenser；　Joe　followed；　took　a　few　towels　immediately　after　him；　and　said；　'Outside；　there　might　be　a　couple　of　cop　types　hanging　out；　waiting　for　me。'
　　The　boy　met　his　eyes　but　didn't　say　anything；　just　kept　drying　his　hands　on　the　paper　towels。
　　Joe　said；　'I'll　give　you　twenty　Blicks　to　reconnoitre　for　me；　then　e　back　and　tell　me　where　they　are。'
　　The　kid's　eyes　were　the　purple…blue　shade　of　a　fresh　bruise；　and　his　stare　was　as　direct　as　a　punch。　'Thirty　Blicks。'
　　Joe　could　not　remember　having　been　able　to　look　so　boldly　and　challengingly　into　an　adult's　eyes　when　he　himself　had　been　fourteen。　Approached　by　a　stranger　with　an　offer　like　this；　he　would　have　shaken　his　head　and　left　quickly。
　　'Fifteen　now　and　fifteen　when　I　e　back；'　said　the　kid。
　　Wadding　his　paper　towels　and　tossing　them　in　the　trash　can；　Joe　said；　'Ten　now；　twenty　when　you　e　back。'
　　'Deal。'
　　As　he　took　his　wallet　from　his　pocket；　Joe　said；　'One　is　about　six　two；　tan；　blond；　in　a　green　Hawaiian　shirt。　The　other　is　maybe　five　ten；　brown　hair；　balding；　pale；　in　a　red　and　orange　Hawaiian。'
　　The　kid　took　the　ten…dollar　bill　without　breaking　eye　contact。　'Maybe　this　is　jive；　there's　nobody　like　that　outside；　and　when　I　e　back；　you　want　me　to　go　into　one　of　those　stalls　with　you　to　get　the　other　twenty。'
　　
　　Joe　was　embarrassed；　not　for　being　suspected　of　paedophilia　but　for　the　kid；　who　had　grown　up　in　a　time　and　a　place　that　required　him　to　be　so　knowledgeable　and　street　smart　at　such　a　young　age。　'No　jive。'
　　〃Cause　I　don't　jump　that　way。'
　　'Understood。'
　　At　least　a　few　of　the　men　present　must　have　heard　the　exchange；　but　none　appeared　to　be　interested。　This　was　a　live　and　let　live　age。
　　As　the　kid　turned　to　leave；　Joe　said；　'They　won't　be　waiting　right　outside；　easy　to　spot。　They'll　be　at　a　distance；　where　they　can　see　the　place　but　aren't　easily　seen　themselves。'
　　Without　responding；　the　boy　went　to　the　door；　sandals　clacking　against　the　floor　tiles。
　　'You　take　my　ten　Blicks　and　don't　e　back；'　Joe　warned；　'I'll　find　you　and　kick　your　ass。'
　　'Yeah；　right；'　the　kid　said　scornfully；　and　then　he　was　gone。
　　Returning　to　one　of　the　rust…stained　sinks；　Joe　washed　his　hands　again　so　he　wouldn't　appear　to　be　loitering。
　　Three　men　in　their　twenties　had　gathered　to　watch　the　crippled　cockroach；　which　was　still　chasing　itself　around　one　small　portion　of　the　lavatory　floor。　The　beetle's　track　was　a　circle　twelve　inches　in　diameter。　It　twitched　brokenly　along　that　circumference　with　such　insectile　single…mindedness　that　the　men；　hands　full　of　dollar　bills；　were　placing　bets　on　how　fast　it　would　plete　each　lap。
　　Bending　over　the　sink；　Joe　splashed　handfuls　of　cold　water　in　his　face。　The　astringent　taste　and　smell　of　chlorine　was　in　the　water；　but　any　sense　of　cleanliness　that　it　provided　was　more　than　countered　by　a　stale；　briny　stink　wafting　out　of　the　open　drain。
　　The　building　wasn't　well　ventilated。　The　still　air　was　hotter　than　the　day　outside；　reeking　of　urine　and　sweat　and　disinfectant；　so　noxiously　thick　that　breathing　it　was　beginning　to　sicken　him。
　　The　kid　seemed　to　be　taking　a　long　time。
　　Joe　splashed　more　water　in　his　face　and　then　studied　his　beaded；　dripping　reflection　in　the　streaked　mirror。　In　spite　of　his　tan　and　the　new　pinkness　from　the　sun　that　he　had　absorbed　in　the　past　hour；　he　didn't　look　healthy。　His　eyes　were　grey；　as　they　had　been　all　his　life。　Once；　however；　it　had　been　the　bright　grey　of　polished　iron　or　wet　indulines；　now　it　was　the　soft　dead　grey　of　ashes；　and　the　whites　were　bloodshot。
　　A　fourth　man　had　joined　the　cockroach　handicappers。　He　was　in　his　mid…fifties；　thirty　years　older　than　the　other　three　but　trying　to　be　one　of　them　by　matching　their　enthusiasm　for　pointless　cruelty　and　sophomoric　humour。　The　gamblers　h