sk.carrie-第19节

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　fell　through　the　window。
'Red；'　Momma　murmured。　'I　might　have　known　it　would　be　red。'
Carrie　said　nothing。
'I　can　see　your　dirtypillows。　Everyone　will。　They'll　be　looking　at　your　body。　The　Book　says…'
'Those　are　my　breasts；　Momma。　Every　woman　has　them。'
'Take　of　that　dress；'　Momma　said。
'No。'
'Take　it　of；　Carrie。　We'll　go　down　and　bum　it　in　the　incinerator　together；　and　then　pray　for　forgiveness。　We'll　do　penance。'　Her　eyes　began　to　sparkle　with　the　strange　disconnected　zeal　that　came　over　her　at　events　which　she　considered　to　be　tests　of　faith。　'I'll　stay　home　from　work　and　you'll　stay　home　from　school。　We'll　pray。　We'll　ask　for　a　sign。　We'll　get　us　down　on　our　knees　and　ask　for　the　Pentecostal　Fire。'
'No；　Momma。'
Her　mother　reached　up　and　pinched　her　own　face。　It　left　a　red　mark。　She　looked　to　Carrie　for　reaction；　saw　none；　hooked　her　right　hand　into　claws　and　ripped　it　across　her　own　cheek；　bringing　thin　blood。　She　whined　and　rocked　back　on　her　heels。　Her　eyes　glowed　with　exultation。
'Stop　hurting　yourself；　Momma。　That's　not　going　to　make　me　stop　either。'
Momma　screamed。　She　made　her　right　hand　a　fist　and　struck　herself　in　the　mouth；　bringing　blood。　She　dabbled　her　fingers　in　it；　looked　at　it　dreamily；　and　daubed　a　spot　on　the　cover　of　the　Bible。
'Washed　in　the　Blood　of　the　Lamb；'　she　whispered。　'Many　times。　Many　times　he　and…'
'Go　away；　Momma。'
She　looked　up　at　Carrie；　her　eyes　glowing。　There　was　a　terrifying　expression　of　righteous　anger　graven　on　her　face。
'The　Lord　is　not　mocked；'　she　whispered。　'Be　sure　your　sin　will　find　you　out。　Burn　it；　Carrie！　Cast　that　devil's　red　from　you　and　burn　it！　Burn　it！　Burn　it！'
The　door　slammed　open　by　itself。
'Go　away；　Momma。'
Momma　smiled。　Her　bloody　mouth　made　the　smile　grotesque；　twisted。　'As　Jezebel　fell　from　the　tower；　let　it　be　with　you；'　she　said。　'And　the　dogs　came　and　licked　up　the　blood。　It's　in　the　Bible！　It's…'
Her　feet　began　to　slip　along　the　floor　and　she　looked　down　at　them；　bewildered。　The　wood　might　have　turned　to　ice。
'Stop　that！'　She　screamed。
She　was　in　the　hall　now。　She　caught　the　doorjamb　and　held　on　for　a　moment；　then　her　fingers　were　torn　loose；　seemingly　by　nothing。
'I　love　you；　Momma；'　Carrie　said　steadily。　'I'm　sorry。'
She　envisioned　the　door　swinging　shut；　and　the　door　did　just　that；　as　if　moved　by　a　light　breeze。　Carefully；　so　as　not　to　hurt　her；　she　disengaged　the　mental　hands　she　had　pushed　her　mother　with。
A　moment　later；　Margaret　was　pounding　on　the　door。　Carrie　held　it　shut；　her　lips　trembling。
'There's　going　to　be　a　judgment！'　Margaret　White　raved。　'I　wash　my　hands　of　it！　I　tried！'
'Pilate　said　that；'　Carrie　murmured。
Her　mother　went　away。　A　minute　later　Carrie　saw　her　go　down　the　walk　and　cross　the　street　on　her　way　to　work。
'Momma；'　she　said　softly；　and　put　her　forehead　on　the　glass。
From　The　Shadow　Exploded　（p。　129）：
Before　turning　to　a　more　detailed　analysis　of　Prom　Night　itself；　it　might　be　well　to　sum　up　what　we　know　of　Carrie　White　the　person。　
We　know　that　Carrie　was　the　victim　of　her　mother's　religious　mania。　We　know　that　she　possessed　a　latent　telekinetic　talent；　monly　referred　to　as　TK。　We　know　that　this　led　'wild　talent'　is　really　a　hereditary　trait；　produced　by　a　gene　that　is　usually　recessive；　if　present　at　all。　We　suspect　that　the　TK　ability　may　be　glandular　in　nature。　We　know　that　Carrie　produced　at　least　one　demonstration　of　her　ability　as　a　small　girl　when　she　was　put　into　an　extreme　situation　of　guilt　and　stress。　We　know　that　a　second　extreme　situation　of　guilt　and　stress　arose　from　a　shower…room　hazing　incident。　It　has　been　theorized　（especially　by　W。G。　Throneberry　and　Julia　Givens；　Berkeley）　that　resurgence　of　the　TK　ability　at　this　point　was　caused　by　both　psychological　factors　（i。e。　the　reaction　of　the　other　girls　and　Carrie　herself　to　their　first　menstrual　period）　and　physiological　factors　（i。e。；　the　advent　of　puberty）。
And　finally；　we　know　that　on　Prom　Night；　a　third　sum　situation　arose；　causing　the　terrible　events　which　we　now　must　begin　to　discuss。　We　will　begin　with　。。。
（i　am　not　nervous　not　a　bit　nervous）
Tommy　had　called　earlier　with　her　corsage；　and　now　she　was　pinning　it　to　the　shoulder　of　her　gown　herself。　There　was　no　momma；　of　course；　to　do　it　for　her　and　make　sure　it　was　in　the　right　place；　Momma　had　locked　herself　in　the　chapel　and　had　been　in　there　for　the　last　two　hours；　praying　hysterically。　Her　voice　rose　and　fen　in　frightening；　incoherent　cycles。
（I'm　sorry　momma　but　I　can't　be　sorry）
When　she　had　it　fixed　to　her　satisfaction；　she　dropped　her　hands　and　stood　quietly　for　a　moment　with　her　eyes　closed。
There　was　no　full…length　mirror　in　the　house。
（vanity　vanity　all　is　vanity）
but　she　thought　she　was　all。　right。　She　had　to　be。　She…　
She　opened　her　eyes　again。　The　Black　Forest　cuckoo　clock；　bought　with　Green　Stamps；　said　seven…ten。
（he'll　be　here　in　twenty　minutes）
Would　he？
Maybe　it　was　all　just　an　elaborate　joke；　the　final　crusher；　the　ultimate　punch　line。　To　leave　her　sitting　here　half　the　night　in　her　crushed…velvet　prom　gown　with　its　princess　waistline；　juliet　sleeves　and　simple　straight　skirt　…　and　her　tea　roses　pinned　to　her　left　shoulder。
From　the　other　room；　on　the　rise　now；　'。　。　。　in　hallowed　earth！　We　know　thou　bring'st　the　Eye　That　Watcheth；　the　hideous　three…lobbed　eye；　and　the　sound　of　black　trumpets。　We　most　heartily　repent…'
Carrie　did　not　think　anyone　could　understand　the　brute　courage　it　had　taken　to　reconcile　herself　to　this；　to　leave　herself　open　to　whatever　fearsome　possibilities　the　night　might　realize。　Being　stood　up　could　hardly　be　the　worst　of　them。　In　fact；　in　a　kind　of　sneaking；　wishful　way　she　thought　it　might　be　for　the　best　if
（no　stop　that）
Of　course　it　would　be　easier　to　stay　here　with　Momma。　Safer。　She　knew　what　They　thought　of　Momma。　Well；　maybe　Momma　was　a　fanatic；　a　freak；　but　at　least　she　was　predictable；　the　house　was　predictable。　She　never　came　home　to　laughing；　shrieking　girls　who　threw　things。
And　if　he　didn't　e；　if　she　drew　back　and　gave　up？　High　school　would　be　over　in　a　month。　Then　what？　A　creeping。　subterranean　existence　in　this　house；　supported　by　Momma；　watching　game　shows　and　soap　operas　all　day　on　television　at　Mrs　Garrison's　house　when　she　had　Carrie　In　To　Visit　（Mrs　Garrison　was　eighty…six）；　walking　down　to　the　Centre　to　get　a　malted　after　supper　at　the　Kelly　Fruit　when　it　was　deserted；　getting　fatter；　losing　hope；　losing　even　the　power　to　think？
No。　Oh　dear　God；　please　no。
（please　let　it　be　a　happy　ending）
'…protect　us　from　he　with　the　split　foot　who　waits　in　the　alleys　and　in　the　parking　lots　of　roadhouses；　O　Saviour…'
Seven　twenty…five。
Restlessly；　without　thinking　she　began　to　lift　objects　with　her　mind　and　put　them　back　down；　the　way　a　nervous　woman　awaiting　someone　in　a　restaurant　will　fold　and　unfold　her　napkin。　She　could　dangle　half　a　dozen　objects　in　air　at　one　time；　and　not　a　sign　of　tiredness　or　headache。　She　kept　waiting　for　the　power　to　abate；　but　it　remained　at　high　water　with　no　sign　of　waning。　The　other　night　on　her　way　home　from　school；　she　had　rolled　a　parked　car
（oh　please　god　let　it　not　be　a　joke）
twenty　feet　down　the　main　street　curb　with　no　strain　at　all。　The　courthouse　idlers　had　stared　at　it　as　if　their　eyes　would　pop　out；　and　of　course　she　stared　too；　but　she　was　smiling　inside。
The　cuckoo　popped　out　of　the　clock　and　spoke　once。　Seven…thirty。
She　had　grown　a　little　wary　of　the　terrific　strain　using　the　power　seemed　to　put　on　her　heart　and　lungs　and　internal　thermostat。　she　suspected　it　would　be　all　too　possible　for　her　heart　to　literally　burst　with　the　strain。　It　was　like　being　in　another's　body　and　forcing　her　to　run　and　run　and　run。　You　would　not　pay　the　cost　yourself；　the　other　body　would。　She　was　beginning　to　realize　that　her　power　was　perhaps　not　so　different　from　the　powers　of　Indian　fakirs；　who　stroll　across　hot　coals；　run　needles　into　their　eyes；　or　blithely　bury　themselves　for　periods　up　to　six　weeks。　Mind　over　matter　in　any　form　is　a　terrific　drain　on　the　body's　resources。
Seven　thirty…two。
（he's　not　ing）
（don't　think　about　it　a　watched　pot　doesn't　boil　hell　e）
（no　he　won't　he's　out　laughing　at　you　with　his　friends　and　after　a　little　bit　they'll　drive　by　in　one　of　their　fast　noisy　cars　laughing　and　hooting　and　yelling）
Miserably；　she　began　lifting　the　sewing　machine　up　and　down；　swinging　it　in　widening　arcs　throught　the　air。
'…and　protect　us　also　from　rebellious　daughters　imbued　with　the　willfulness　of　the　Wicked　One…'
'Shut　up！'　Carrie　screamed　suddenly。
There　was　startled　silence　for　a　moment；　and　then　the　babbling　chant　began　again。
Seven　thirty…three。
Not　ing
（then　i'll　wreck　the　house）
The　thought　came　to　her　naturally　and　cleanly。　First　the　sewing　machine；　driven　through　the　living　room　wall。　The　couch　through　a　window。　Tables；　chairs；　books　and　tracts　all　flying；　the　plumbing　ripped　loose　and　still　spurting；　like　arteries　ripped　free　of　flesh。　The　roof　itself；　if　that　were　within　her　power；　shingles　exploding　upward　into　the　night　like　startled　pigeons
Lights　splashed　gaudily　across　the　window。
Other　cars　had　gone　by；　making　her　heart　leap　a　little；　but　this　one　was　going　much　more　slowly。
（O）
She　ran　to　the　window；　unable　to　restrain　herself；　and　it　was　him；　To