stephen king - mist-第4节

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　You　couldn't　see　even　a　hint　of　the　shoreline　over　there；　but　years　of　looking　at　Long　Lake　made　me　believe　that　the　shoreline　wasn't　hidden　by　much；　only　yards；　maybe。　The　edge　of　the　mist　was　nearly　ruler…straight。
　〃What　is　it；　Dad？〃　Billy　yelled。　He　was　in　the　water　up　to　his　knees；　groping　for　the　soggy　flag。
　〃Fogbank；〃　I　said。
　〃On　the　lake？〃　Steff　asked　doubtfully；　and　I　could　see　Mrs。　Carmody's　influence　in　her　eyes。　Damn　the　woman。
　My　own　moment　of　unease　was　passing。　Dreams；　after　all；　are　insubstantial　things；　like　mist　itself。
　〃Sure。　You've　seen　fog　on　the　lake　before。〃
　〃Never　like　that。　That　looks　more　like　a　cloud。〃
　〃It's　the　brightness　of　the　sun；〃　I　said。　〃It's　the　same　way　clouds　look　from　an　airplane　when　you　fly　over　them。〃
　〃What　would　do　it？　We　only　get　fog　in　damp　weather。　〃
　〃No；　we've　got　it　right　now；〃　I　said。　〃Harrison　does；　anyway。　It's　a　little　leftover　from　the　storm；　that's　all。　Two　fronts　meeting。　Something　along　that　line。〃
　〃David；　are　you　sure？〃
　I　laughed　and　hauled　my　arm　around　her　neck。　〃No；　actually；　I'm　bullshitting　like　crazy。　If　I　was　sure；　I'd　be　doing　the　weather　on　the　six…o'clock　news。　Go　on　and　make　your　shopping　list。〃
　She　gave　me　one　more　doubtful　glance；　looked　at　the　fogbank　for　a　moment　or　two　with　the　flat　of　her　hand　held　up　to　shade　her　eyes；　and　then　shook　her　head。　〃Weird；〃　she　said；　and　walked　away。
　For　Billy；　the　mist　had　lost　its　novelty。　He　had　fished　the　flag　and　a　tangle　of　lanyard　out　of　the　water。　We　spread　it　on　the　lawn　to　dry。
　〃I　heard　it　was　wrong　to　ever　let　the　flag　touch　the　ground；　Daddy；〃　he　said　in　a　businesslike；　let's…get…this…out…of…the…way　tone。
　〃Yeah？〃
　〃Yeah。　Victor　McAllister　says　they　lectercute　people　for　it。〃
　〃Well；　you　tell　Vic　he's　full　of　what　makes　the　grass　grow　green。〃
　〃Horseshit；　right？〃　Billy　is　a　bright　boy；　but　oddly　humorless。　To　the　champ；　everything　is　serious　business。　I'm　hoping　that　he'll　live　long　enough　to　learn　that　in　this　world　that　is　a　very　dangerous　attitude。
　〃Yeah；　right；　but　don't　tell　your　mother　I　said　so。　When　the　flag's　dry；　we'll　put　it　away。　We'll　even　fold　it　into　a　cocked　hat；　so　we'll　be　on　safe　ground　there。〃
　〃Daddy；　will　we　fix　the　boathouse　roof　and　get　a　new　flagpole？〃　For　the　first　time　he　looked　anxious。　He'd　maybe　had　enough　destruction　for　a　while。
　I　clapped　him　on　the　shoulder。　〃You're　damn　tooting。〃
　〃Can　I　go　over　to　the　Bibbers'　and　see　what　happened　there？〃
　〃Just　for　a　couple　of　minutes。　They'll　be　cleaning　up；　too；　and　sometimes　that　makes　people　feel　a　little　ugly。〃　The　way　I　presently　felt　about　Norton。
　〃Okay。　Bye！〃　He　was　off。
　〃Stay　out　of　their　way；　champ。　And　Billy？〃
　He　glanced　back。
　〃Remember　about　the　live　wires。　If　you　see　more；　steer　clear　of　them。〃
　〃Sure；　Dad。〃
　I　stood　there　for　a　moment；　first　surveying　the　damage；　then　glancing　out　at　the　mist　again。　It　seemed　closer；　but　it　was　very　hard　to　tell　for　sure。　If　it　was　closer；　it　was　defying　all　the　laws　of　nature；　because　the　wind　…　a　very　gentle　breeze…was　against　it。　That；　of　course；　was　patently　impossible。　It　was　very；　very　white。　The　only　thing　I　can　pare　it　to　would　be　fresh…fallen　snow　lying　in　dazzling　contrast　to　the　deep…blue　brilliance　of　the　winter　sky。　But　snow　reflects　hundreds　and　hundreds　of　diamond　points　in　the　sun；　and　this　peculiar　fogbank；　although　bright　and　clean…looking；　did　not　sparkle。　in　spite　of　what　Steff　had　said；　mist　isn't　unmon　on　clear　days；　but　when　there's　a　lot　of　it；　the　suspended　moisture　almost　always　causes　a　rainbow。　But　there　was　no　rainbow　here。
　The　unease　was　back；　tugging　at　me；　but　before　it　could　deepen　I　heard　a　low；　mechanical　sound　…　whut…whut…whut！　…followed　by　a　barely　audible　〃Shit！〃　The　mechanical　sound　was　repeated；　but　this　time　there　was　no　oath。　The　third　time　the　chuffing　sound　was　followed　by　〃Mother…　fuck！〃　in　the　same　low　I'm…all…by…myself…but…boy…am…I…pissed　tone。
　Whut…whut…whut…whut
　…Silence
　…then：　〃You　cunt。〃
　I　began　to　grin。　Sound　carries　well　out　here；　and　all　the　buzzing　chainsaws　were　fairly　distant。　Distant　enough　for　me　to　recognize　the　not…so…dulcet　tones　of　my　next…door　neighbor；　the　renowned　lawyer　and　lakefront…property…owner；　Brenton　Norton。
　I　moved　down　a　little　closer　to　the　water；　pretending　to　stroll　toward　the　dock　beached　on　our　breakwater。　Now　I　could　see　Norton。　He　was　in　the　clearing　beside　his　screened…in　porch；　standing　on　a　carpet　of　old　pine　needles　and　dressed　in　paint…spotted　jeans　and　a　white　strappy　T…shirt。　His　forty…dollar　haircut　was　in　disarray　and　sweat　poured　down　his　face。　He　was　down　on　one　knee；　laboring　over　his　own　chainsaw。　It　was　much　bigger　and　fancier　than　my　little　79。95　Value　House　job。　It　seemed　to　have　everything；　in　fact；　but　a　starter　button。　He　was　yanking　a　cord；　producing　the　listless　whut…whut…whut　sounds　and　nothing　more。　I　was　gladdened　in　my　heart　to　see　that　a　yellow　birch　had　fallen　across　his　picnic　table　and　smashed　it　in　two。
　Norton　gave　a　tremendous　yank　on　the　starter　cord
　Whut…whut…whutwhutwhut…WHAT！WHAT！WHAT！　。。。　WHAT！　。。。　Whut。
　Almost　had　it　there　for　a　minute；　fella。
　Another　Herculean　tug。
　Whut…whut…whut。
　〃Cocksucker；〃　Norton　whispered　fiercely；　and　bared　his　teeth　at　his　fancy　chainsaw。
　I　went　back　around　the　house；　feeling　really　good　for　the　first　time　since　I　got　up。　My　own　saw　started　on　the　first　tug；　and　I　went　to　work。
　Around　ten　o'clock　there　was　a　tap　on　my　shoulder。　It　was　Billy　with　a　can　of　beer　in　one　hand　and　Steff's　list　in　the　other。　I　stuffed　the　list　in　the　back　pocket　of　my　jeans　and　took　the　beer；　which　was　not　exactly　frosty…cold　but　at　least　cool。　I　chugged　almost　half　of　it　at　once　rarely　does　a　beer　taste　that　good…and　tipped　the　can　in　salute　at　Billy。　〃Thanks；　champ。〃
　〃Can　I　have　some。〃'
　I　let　him　have　a　swallow。　He　grimaced　and　handed　the　can　back。　I　offed　the　rest　and　just　caught　myself　as　I　started　to　crunch　it　up　in　the　middle。　The　deposit　law　on　bottles　and　cans　has　been　in　effect　for　over　three　years；　but　old　ways　die　hard。
　〃　She　wrote　something　across　the　bottom　of　the　list；　but　I　can't　read　her　writing；〃　Billy　said。
　I　took　out　the　list　again。　〃I　can't　get　WOXO　on　the　radio；〃　Steff's　note　read。　〃Do　you　think　the　storm　knocked　them　off　the　air？〃
　WOXO　is　the　local　automated　FM　rock　outlet。　It　broadcast　from　Norway；　about　twenty　miles　north；　and　was　all　that　our　old　and　feeble　FM　receiver　would　haul　in。
　〃Tell　her　probably；〃　I　said；　after　reading　the　question　over　to　him。　〃Ask　her　if　she　can　get　Portland　on　the　AM　band。〃
　〃Okay；　Daddy；　can　I　e　when　you　go　to　town？〃
　〃Sure。　You　and　Mommy　both；　if　you　want。〃
　〃Okay。〃　He　ran　back　to　the　house　with　the　empty　can。
　I　had　worked　my　way　up　to　the　big　tree。　I　made　my　first　cut；　sawed　through；　then　turned　the　saw　off　for　a　few　moments　to　let　it　cool　down…the　tree　was　really　too　big　for　it；　but　I　thought　it　would　be　all　right　if　I　didn't　rush　it。　I　wondered　if　the　dirt　road　leading　up　to　Kansas　Road　was　clear　of　falls；　and　just　as　I　was　wondering；　an　orange　CMP　truck　lumbered　past；　probably　on　its　way　to　the　far　end　of　our　little　road。　So　that　was　all　right。　The　road　was　clear　and　the　power　guys　would　be　here　by　noon　to　take　care　of　the　live　lines。
　I　cut　a　big　chunk　off　the　tree；　dragged　it　to　the　side　of　the　driveway；　and　tumbled　it　over　the　…edge。　it　rolled　down　the　slope　and　into　the　underbrush　that　had　crept　back　since　the　long…ago　day　when　my　dad　and　his　brothers…all　of　them　artists；　we　have　always　been　an　artistic　family；　the　Draytons…had　cleared　it　away。
　I　wiped　sweat　off　my　face　with　my　arm　and　wished　for　another　beer；　one　really　only　sets　your　mouth。　I　picked　up　the　chainsaw　and　thought　about　WOXO　being　off　the　air。　That　was　the　direction　that　funny　fogbank　had　e　from。　And　it　was　the　direction　Shaymore　（pronounced　Shammore　by　the　locals）　lay　in。　Shaymore　was　where　the　Arrowhead　Project　was。
　That　was　old　Bill　Giosti's　theory　about　the　so…called　Black　Spring：　the　Arrowhead　Project。　In　the　western　part　of　Shaymore；　not　far　from　where　the　town　borders　on　Stoneham；　there　was　a　small　government　preserve　surrounded　with　wire。　There　were　sentries　and　closedcircuit　television　cameras　and　God　knew　what　else。　Or　so　I　had　heard；　I'd　never　actually　seen　it；　although　the　Old　Shaymore　Road　runs　along　the　eastern　side　of　the　government　land　for　a　mile　or　so。
　No　one　knew　for　sure　where　the　name　Arrowhead　Project　came　from　and　no　one　could　tell　you　for　one　hundred　percent　sure　that　that　really　was　the　name　of　the　project…if　there　was　a　project。　Bill　Giosti　said　there　was；　but　when　you　asked　him　how　and　where　he　came　by　his　information；　he　got　vague。　His　niece；　he　said；　worked　for
　the　Continental　Phone　pany；　and　she　had　heard　things。　it　got　like　that。
　〃Atomic　things；〃　Bill　said　that　day；　leaning　in　the　Scout's　window　and　blowing　a　healthy　draught　of　Pabst　into　my　face。　〃That's　what　they're　fooling　around　with　up　there。　Shooting　atoms　into　the　air　and　all　that。〃
　〃Mr。　Giosti；　the　air's　full　of　atoms；〃　Billy　had　said。　〃That's　what　Mrs。　Neary　says。　Mrs。　Neary　says　everything's　full　of　atoms。〃
　Bill　Giosti　gave　my　son　Bill　a　long；　bloodshot　glance　that　finally　deflated　him。　〃These　are　differe