sk.theshining-第12节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　were　worse　still。　She　had　never　dreamed　there　could　be　so　much　pain　in　a　life　when　there　was　nothing　physically　wrong。　She　hurt　all　the　time。　How　much　of　it　was　her　fault？　That　question　haunted　her。　She　felt　like　her　mother。　Like　her　father。　Sometimes；　when　she　felt　like　herself　she　wondered　what　it　would　be　like　for　Danny；　and　she　dreaded　the　day　when　he　grew　old　enough　to　lay　blame。　And　she　wondered　where　they　would　go。　She　had　no　doubt　her　mother　would　take　her　in；　and　no　doubt　that　after　a　year　of　watching　her　diapers　remade；　Danny's　meals　recooked　and/or　redistributed；　of　ing　home　to　find　his　clothes　changed　or　his　hair　cut　or　the　books　her　mother　found　unsuitable　spirited　away　to　some　limbo　in　the　attic　。　。　。　after　half　a　year　of　that；　she　would　have　a　plete　nervous　breakdown。　And　her　mother　would　pat　her　hand　and　say　fortingly；　Although　it's　not　your　fault；　it's　all　your　own　fault。　You　were　never　ready。　You　showed　your　true　colors　when　you　came　between　your　father　and　me。
　　My　father；　Danny's　father。　Mine；　his。
　　（Who　giveth　this　woman？　I　do。　Dead　of　a　heart　attack　six　months　later。）　The　night　before　that　morning　she　had　lain　awake　almost　until　he　came　in；　thinking；　ing　to　her　decision。
　　The　divorce　was　necessary；　she　told　herself。　Her　mother　and　father　didn't　belong　in　the　decision。　Neither　did　her　feelings　of　guilt　over　their　marriage　nor　her　feelings　of　inadequacy　over　her　own。　It　was　necessary　for　her　son's　sake；　and　for　herself；　if　she　was　to　salvage　anything　at　all　from　her　early　adulthood。　The　handwriting　on　the　wall　was　brutal　but　clear。　Her　husband　was　a　lush。　He　had　a　bad　temper；　one　he　could　no　longer　keep　wholly　under　control　now　that　he　was　drinking　so　heavily　and　his　writing　was　going　so　badly。　Accidentally　or　not　accidentally；　he　had　broken　Danny's　arm。　He　was　going　to　lose　his　job；　if　not　this　year　then　the　year　after。　Already　she　had　noticed　the　sympathetic　looks　from　the　other　faculty　wives。　She　told　herself　that　she　had　stuck　with　the　messy　job　of　her　marriage　for　as　long　as　she　could。　Now　she　would　have　to　leave　it。
　　Jack　could　have　full　visitation　rights；　and　she　would　want　support　from　him　only　until　she　could　find　something　and　get　on　her　feet…and　that　would　have　to　be　fairly　rapidly　because　she　didn't　know　how　long　Jack　would　be　able　to　pay　support　money。　She　would　do　it　with　as　little　bitterness　as　possible。　But　it　had　to　end。
　　So　thinking；　she　had　fallen　off　into　her　own　thin　and　unrestful　sleep；　haunted　by　the　faces　of　her　own　mother　and　father。　You're　nothing　but　a　home…wrecker；　her　mother　said。　Who　giveth　this；　woman？　the　minister　said。　I　do；　her　father　said。　But　in　the　bright　and　sunny　morning　she　felt　the　same。　Her　back　to　him；　her　hands　plunged　in　warm　dishwater　up　to　the　wrists；　she　had　menced　with　the　unpleasantness。
　　〃I　want　to　talk　to　you　about　something　that　might　be　best　for　Danny　and　I。　For　you　too；　maybe。　We　should　have　talked　about　it　before；　I　guess。〃　And　then　he　had　said　an　odd　thing。　She　had　expected　to　discover　his　anger；　to　provoke　the　bitterness；　the　recriminations。　She　had　expected　a　mad　dash　for　the　liquor　cabinet。　But　not　this　soft；　almost　toneless　reply　that　was　so　unlike　him。
　　It　was　almost　as　though　the　Jack　she　had　lived　with　for　six　years　had　never　e　back　last　night…as　if　he　had　been　replaced　by　some　unearthly　doppelganger　that　she　would　never　know　or　be　quite　sure　of。
　　〃Would　you　do　something　for　me？　A　favor？〃
　　〃What？〃　She　had　to　discipline　her　voice　strictly　to　keep　it　from　trembling。
　　〃Let's　talk　about　it　in　a　week。　If　you　still　want　to〃　And　she　had　agreed。　It　remained　unspoken　between　them。　During　that　week　he　had　seen　Al　Shockley　more　than　ever；　but　he　came　home　early　and　there　was　no　liquor　on　his　breath。　She　imagined　she　smelled　it；　but　knew　it　wasn't　so。　Another　week。
　　And　another。
　　Divorce　went　back　to　mittee；　unvoted　on。
　　What　had　happened？　She　still　wondered　and　still　had　not　the　slightest　idea。
　　The　subject　was　taboo　between　them。　He　was　like　a　man　who　had　leaned　around　a　corner　and　had　seen　an　unexpected　monster　lying　in　wait；　crouching　among　the　dried　bones　of　its　old　kills。　The　liquor　remained　in　the　cabinet；　but　he　didn't　touch　it。　She　had　considered　throwing　them　out　a　dozen　times　but　in　the　end　always　backed　away　from　the　idea；　as　if　some　unknown　charm　would　be　broken　by　the　act。
　　And　there　was　Danny's　part　in　it　to　consider。
　　If　she　felt　she　didn't　know　her　husband；　then　she　was　in　awe　of　her　child…awe　in　the　strict　meaning　of　that　word：　a　kind　of　undefined　superstitious　dread。
　　Dozing　lightly；　the　image　of　the　instant　of　his　birth　was　presented　to　her。
　　She　was　again　lying　on　the　delivery　table；　bathed　in　sweat；　her　hair　in　strings；　her　feet　splayed　out　in　the　stirrups　（and　a　little　high　from　the　gas　they　kept　giving　her　whiffs　of；　at　one　point　she　had　muttered　that　she　felt　like　an　advertisement　for　gang　rape；　and　the　nurse；　an　old　bird　who　had　assisted　at　the　births　of　enough　children　to　populate　a　high　school；　found　that　extremely　funny）　the　doctor　between　her　legs；　the　nurse　off　to　one　side；　arranging　instruments　and　humming。　The　sharp；　glassy　pains　had　been　ing　at　steadily　shortening　intervals；　and　several　times　she　had　screamed　in　spite　of　her　shame。
　　Then　the　doctor　told　her　quite　sternly　that　she　must　PUSH；　and　she　did；　and　then　she　felt　something　being　taken　from　her。　It　was　a　clear　and　distinct　feeling；　one　she　would　never　forget…the　thing　taken。　Then　the　doctor　held　her　son　up　by　the　legs…she　had　seen　his　tiny　sex　and　known　he　was　a　boy　immediately…　and　as　the　doctor　groped　for　the　airmask；　she　had　seen　something　else；　something　so　horrible　that　she　found　the　strength　to　scream　again　after　she　had　thought　all　screams　were　used　up：　He　has　no　face！
　　But　of　course　there　had　been　a　face；　Danny's　own　sweet　face；　and　the　caul　that　had　covered　it　at　birth　now　resided　in　a　small　jar　which　she　had　kept；　almost　shamefully。　She　did　not　hold　with　old　superstition；　but　she　had　kept　the　caul　nevertheless。　She　did　not　hold　with　wives'　tales；　but　the　boy　had　been　unusual　from　the　first。　She　did　not　believe　in　second　sight　but…　Did　Daddy　have　an　accident？　I　dreamed　Daddy　had　an　accident。
　　Something　had　changed　him。　She　didn't　believe　it　was　just　her　getting　ready　to　ask　for　a　divorce　that　had　done　it。　Something　had　happened　before　that　morning。
　　Something　that　had　happened　while　she　slept　uneasily。　Al　Shockley　said　that　nothing　had　happened；　nothing　at　all；　but　he　had　averted　his　eyes　when　he　said　it；　and　if　you　believed　faculty　gossip；　Al　had　also　climbed　aboard　the　fabled　wagon。
　　Did　Daddy　have　an　accident？
　　Maybe　a　chance　collision　with　fate；　surely　nothing　much　more　concrete。　She　had　read　that　day's　paper　and　the　next　day's　with　a　closer　eye　than　usual；　but　she　saw　nothing　she　could　connect　with　Jack。　God　help　her；　she　had　been　looking　for　a　hit…and…run　accident　or　a　barroom　brawl　that　had　resulted　in　serious　injuries　or　。　。　。　who　knew？　Who　wanted　to？　But　no　policeman　came　to　call；　either　to　ask　questions　or　with　a　warrant　empowering　him　to　take　paint　scrapings　from　the　WV's　bumpers。　Nothing。　Only　her　husband's　one　hundred　and　eighty　degree　change　and　her　son's　sleepy　question　on　waking：　Did　Daddy　have　an　accident？　I　dreamed　。　。　。
　　She　had　stuck　with　Jack　more　for　Danny's　sake　than　she　would　admit　in　her　waking　hours；　but　now；　sleeping　lightly；　she　could　admit　it：　Danny　had　been　Jack's　for　the　asking；　almost　from　the　first。　Just　as　she　had　been　her　father's；　almost　from　the　first。　She　couldn't　remember　Danny　ever　spitting　a　bottle　back　on　Jack's　shirt。　Jack　could　get　him　to　eat　after　she　had　given　up　in　disgust；　even　when　Danny　was　teething　and　it　gave　him　visible　pain　to　chew。　When　Danny　had　a　stomachache；　she　would　rock　him　for　an　hour　before　he　began　to　quiet；　Jack　had　only　to　pick　him　up；　walk　twice　around　the　room　with　him；　and　Danny　would　be　asleep　on　lack's　shoulder；　his　thumb　securely　corked　in　his　mouth。
　　He　hadn't　minded　changing　diapers；　even　those　he　called　the　special　deliveries。　He　sat　with　Danny　for　hours　on　end；　bouncing　him　on　his　lap；　playing　finger　games　with　him；　making　faces　at　him　while　Danny　poked　at　his　nose　and　then　collapsed　with　the　giggles。　He　made　formulas　and　administered　them　faultlessly；　getting　up　every　last　burp　afterward。　He　would　take　Danny　with　him　in　the　car　to　get　the　paper　or　a　bottle　of　milk　or　nails　at　the　hardware　store　even　when　their　son　was　still　an　infant。　He　had　taken　Danny　to　a　Stovington…　Keene　soccer　match　when　Danny　was　only　six　months　old；　and　Danny　had　sat　motionlessly　on　his　father's　lap　through　the　whole　game；　wrapped　in　a　blanket；　a　small　Stovington　pennant　clutched　in　one　chubby　fist。
　　He　loved　his　mother　but　he　was　his　father's　boy。
　　And　hadn't　she　felt；　time　and　time　again；　her　son's　wordless　opposition　to　the　whole　idea　of　divorce？　She　would　be　thinking　about　it　in　the　kitchen；　turning　it　over　in　her　mind　as　she　turned　the　potatoes　for　supper　over　in　her　hands　for　the　peeler's　blade。　And　she　would　turn　around　to　see　him　sitting　cross…legged　in　a　kitchen　chair；　looking　at　her　with　eyes　that　seemed　both　frightened　and　accusatory。　Walking　with　him　in　the　park；　he　would　suddenly　seize　both　her　h