sk.carrie-第23节

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'V　'George　yelled　suddenly；　and　led　Frieda　out　on　to　the　floor。　He　began　to　do　a　sarcastic　jitterbug　to　the　old…timey　big…band　music；　and　someone　catcalled　over　to　him。　George　blabbered；　leered；　and　went　into　a　brief　arms…crossed　Cossack　routine　that　nearly　landed　him　on　his　butt。
Carrie　smiled。　'George　is　funny；'　she　said。
'Sure　he　is。　He's　a　good　guy。　There　are　lots　of　good　people　around。　Want　to　sit　down？'
'Yes；'　she　said　gratefully。
He　went　back　to　the　door　and　returned　with　Norma　Watson；　whose　hair　had　been　pulled　into　a　huge；　teased　explosion　for　the　affair。
'It's　on　the　other　SIDE；'　she　said；　and　her　bright　gerbel's　eyes　picked　Carrie　up　and　down；　looking　for　an　exposed　strap；　an　eruption　of　pimples；　any　news　to　carry　back　to　the　door　when　her　errand　was　done。　'That's　a　LOVELY　dress；　Carrie。　Where　did　you　EVER　get　it？'
Carrie　told　her　while　Norma　led　them　around　the　dance　floor　to　their　table。　She　exuded　odours　of　Avon　soap；　Woolworth's　perfume；　and　Juicy　Fruit　gum。
There　were　two　folding　chairs　at　the　table　（looped　and　beribboned　with　the　inevitable　crepe　paper）；　and　the　table　itself　was　decked　with　crepe　paper　in　the　school　colours。　On　top　was　a　candle　in　a　wine　bottle；　a　dance　programme；　a　tiny　gilded　pencil；　and　two　party　favours　…　gondolas　filled　with　Planters　Mixed　Nuts。
'I　can't　get　OVER　it；'　Norma　was　saying。　'You　look　so　DIFFERENT。'　She　cast　an　odd；　furtive　look　at　Carrie's　face　and　it　made　her　feel　nervous。　'You're　positively　GLOWING。　What's　your　SECRET？'
'I'm　Don　MacLean's　secret　lover；'　Carrie　said。　Tommy　sniggered　and　quickly　smothered　it。　Norma's　smile　slipped　a　notch；　and　Carrie　was　amazed　by　her　own　wit　and　audacity。　That's　what　you　looked　like　when　the　joke　was　on　you。　As　though　a　bee　had　stung　your　rear　end。　Carrie　found　she　liked　Norma　to　look　that　way。　It　was　distinctly　unchristian。
'Well；　I　have　to　get　back；'　she　said。　'Isn't　it　EXCITING；　Tommy？'　Her　smile　was　sympathetic：　Wouldn't　it　be　exciting　if…'
'Cold　sweat　is　running　down　my　thighs　in　rivers；'　Tommy　said　gravely。
Norma　left　with　an　odd；　puzzled　smile。　It　had　not　gone　the　way　things　were　supposed　to　go。　Everyone　knew　how　things　were　supposed　to　go　with　Carrie。　Tommy　sniggered　again。
'Would　you　like　to　dance？'　he　asked。
She　didn't　know　how；　but　wasn't　ready　to　admit　to　that　yet。　'Let's　just　sit　for　a　minute。'
While　he　held　out　her　chair；　she　saw　the　candle　and　asked　Tommy　if　he　would　light　it。　He　did。　Their　eyes　met　over　its　flame。　He　reached　out　and　took　her　hand。　And　the　band　played　on。
From　The　Shadow　Exploded　（pp。　133…134）：
Perhaps　a　plete　study　of　Carrie's　mother　will　be　undertaken　someday；　when　the　subject　of　Carrie　herself　bees　more　academic。　I　myself　might　attempt　it；　if　only　to　gain　access　to　the　Brigham；　family　tree。　It　might　be　extremely　interesting　to　know　what　odd　occurrences　one　might　e　across　two　or　three　generations　back。。。
And　there　is；　of　course；　the　knowledge　that　Carrie　went　home　on　Prom　Night。　Why？　It　is　hard　to　tell　just　how　sane　Carrie's　motives　were　by　that　time。　She　may　have　gone　for　absolution　and　forgiveness；　or　she　may　have　gone　for　the　express　purpose　of　mitting　matricide。　In　any　event；　the　physical　evidence　seems　to　indicate　that　Margaret　White　was　waiting　for　her。。。
The　house　was　pletely　silent。
She　was　gone。
At　night。
Gone。
Margaret　White　walked　slowly　from　her　bedroom　into　the　living　room。　First　had　e　the　flow　of　blood　and　the　filthy　fantasies　the　Devil　sent　with　it。　Then　this　hellish　Power　the　Devil　had　given　to　her。　It　came　at　the　time　of　the　blood　and　the　time　of　hair　on　the　body；　of　course。　Oh；　she　knew　about　the　Power。　Her　own　grandmother　had　it。　She　had　been　able　to　light　the　fireplace　without　even　stirring　from　her　rocker　by　the　window。　It　made　her　eyes　glow　with
（thou　shalt　not　suffer　a　witch　to　live）
a　kind　of　witch's　light。　And　sometimes；　at　the　supper　table　the　sugar　bowl　would　whirl　madly　like　a　dervish。　Whenever　it　happened；　Gram　would　cackle　crazily　and　drool　and　make　the　sign　of　the　Evil　Eye　all　around　her。　Sometimes　she　panted　like　a　dog　on　a　hot　day；　and　when　she　died　of　a　heart　attack　at　sixty…six；　senile　to　the　point　of　idiocy　even　at　that　early　age；　Carrie　had　not　even　been　a　year　old。　Margaret　had　gone　into　her　bedroom　not　four　weeks　after　Gram's　funeral　and　there　her　girl…child　had　lain　in　her　crib；　laughing　and　gurgling；　watching　a　bottle　that　was　dangling　in　thin　air　over　her　head。
Margaret　had　almost　killed　her　then。　Ralph　had　stopped　her。
She　should　not　have　let　him　stop　her。
Now　Margaret　White　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　living　room。　Christ　on　Calvary　looked　down　at　her　with　his　wounded；　suffering；　reproachful　eyes。　The　Black　Forest　cuckoo　clock　ticked。　It　was　ten　minutes　after　eight。
She　had　been　able　to　feel；　actually　feel　the　Devil's　Power　working　in　Carrie。　It　crawled　all　over　you；　lifting　and　pulling　like　evil；　tickling　little　fingers。　She　had　set　out　to　do　her　duty　again　when　Carrie　was　three；　when　she　had　caught　her　looking　in　sin　at　the　Devil's　slut　in　the　next　yard　over。　Then　the　stones　had　e；　and　she　had　weakened。　And　the　power　had　risen　again；　after　thirteen　years。　God　was　not　mocked。
First　the　blood；　then　the　power；
（you　sign　your　name　you　sign　it　in　blood）
now　a　boy　and　dancing　and　he　would　take　her　to　a　roadhouse　after；　take　her　into　the　parking　lot；　take　her　into　the　back　seat；　take　her　Blood；　fresh　blood。　Blood　was　always　at　the　root　of　it；　and　only　blood　could　expiate　it。
She　was　a　big　woman　with　massive　upper　arms　that　had　swarfed　her　elbows　to　dimples；　but　her　head　was　surprisingly　small　on　the　end　of　her　strong；　corded　neck。　It　had　once　been　a　beautiful　face。　It　was　still　beautiful　in　a　weird；　zealous　way。　But　the　eyes　had　taken　on　a　strange；　wandering　cast；　and　the　lines　had　deepened　cruelly　around　the　denying　but　oddly　weak　mouth。　Her　hair；　which　had　been　almost　all　black　a　year　ago；　was　now　almost　white。
The　only　way　to　kill　sin；　true　black　sin；　was　to　drown　it　in　the　blood　of
（she　must　be　sacrificed）
a　repentant　heart。　Surely　God　understood　that；　and　had　laid　His　finger　upon　her。　Had　not　God　Himself　manded　Abraham　to　take　his　son　Isaac　up　upon　the　mountain？
She　shuffled　out　into　the　kitchen　in　her　old　and　splayed　slippers；　and　opened　the　kitchen　utensil　drawer。　The　knife　they　used　for　carving　was　long　and　sharp　and　arched　in　the　middle　from　constant　honing。　She　sat　down　on　the　high　stool　by　the　counter；　found　the　sliver　of　whetstone　in　its　small　aluminium　dish；　and　began　to　scrub　it　along　the　gleaming　edge　of　the　blade　with　the　apathetic；　fixated　attention　of　the　damned。
The　Black　Forest　cuckoo　clock　ticked　and　ticked　and　finally　the　bird　jumped　out　to　call　once　and　announce　eight…thirty。
In　her　mouth　she　tasted　olives。
THE　SENIOR　CLASS　PRESENTS　SPRING　BALL　79
May　27；1979
Music　by　The　Billy　Bosman；　Band
Music　by　Josie　and　the　Moonglows
ENTERTAINMENT
'Cabaret'　…　Baton　Twirling　by　Sandra　Stenchfield
'500　Miles'
'Lemon　Tree'
'Mr　Tambourine　Man'
Folk　Music　by　John　Swithen　and　Maureen　Cowan　'The　Street　Where　You　Live'
'Raindrops　Keep　Fallin'　on　My　Head'
Ewen　High　School　Chorus
'Bridge　Over　Troubled　Waters'
　
CHAPERONES
Mr　Stephens；　Miss　Geer；　Mr　and　Mrs　Lublin；　Miss　Desjardin
Coronation　at　10：00　P。M。
Remember；　its　YOUR　prom；　make　it　one　to　remember　always！
When　he　asked　her　the　third　time；　Carrie　had　to　admit　that　she　didn't　know　how　to　dance。　She　didn't　add　that；　now　that　the　rock　band　had　taken　over　for　a　half…hour　set；　she　would　feel　out　of　place　gyrating　on　the　floor。
（and　sinful）
yes；　and　sinful。
Tommy　nodded；　then　smiled。　He　leaned　forward　and　told　her　that　he　hated　to　dance。　Would　she　like　to　go　around　and　visit　some　of　the　other　tables？　Trepidation　rose　thickly　in　her　throat；　but　she　nodded。　Yes；　that　would　be　nice。　He　was　seeing　to　her。　She　must　see　to　him　（even　if　he　really　did　not　expect　it）；　that　was　part　of　the　deal。　And　she　felt　dusted　over　with　the　enchantment　of　the　evening。　She　was　suddenly　hopeful　that　no　one　would　stick　out　a　foot　or　slyly　paste　a　kick…me…hard　sign　on　her　back　or　suddenly　squirt　water　in　her　face　from　a　novelty　carnation　and　retreat　cackling　while　everyone　laughed　and　pointed　and　catcalled。
And　if　there　was　enchantment；　it　was　not　divine　but　pagan。
'Carrie？'　a　voice　said　hesitantly。
She　had　been　so　wrapped　up　in　watching　the　band　and　the　dance　floor　and　the　other　tables　that　she　hadn't　seen　anyone　ing　at　all。　Tommy　had　gone　to　get　them　punch。
She　turned　around　and　saw　Miss　Desjardin。
For　a　moment　the　two　of　them　merely　looked　at　each　other；　and　the　memory　travelled　between　them；　
（she　saw　me　she　saw　me　naked　and　screaming　and　bloody）
without　words　or　thought。　It　was　in　the　eyes。
Then　Carrie　said　shyly：　'You　look　very　pretty；　Miss　Desjardin。'
She　did。　She　was　dressed　in　a　glimmering　silver　sheath；　a　perfect　plement　to　her　blonde　hair；　which　was　up。　A　simple　pendant　hung　around　her　neck。　She　looked　very　young；　young　enough　to　be　attending　rather　than　chaperoning。
‘Thank　you。'　She　hesitated；　then　put　a　gloved　hand　on　Carrie's　arm。　'You　are　beautiful；'　she　said；　and　each　word　carried　a　peculiar　emphasis。
Carrie　felt　herself　blushing　again　and　dropped　her　eyes　to　the　table。　'It's　awfully　nice　of　you　to　say　so。　I　know　I'm　not　。。。　not　really　。。。　but　thank　you　anyway。'
'It's　true；