sk.theshining-第59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！
The people who understand the interaction between the mind and the body…study it； I mean； no one understands it…believe we have a lot more control over our involuntary functions than they used to think。 You can slow your heartbeat if you think about it enough。 Speed up your own metabolism。 Make yourself sweat more。 Or make yourself bleed。〃
〃You think Danny thought those bruises onto his neck？ Jack； I just can't believe that。〃
〃I can believe it's possible； although it seems unlikely to me； too。 What's more likely is that he did it to himself。〃
〃To himself？〃
〃He's gone into these 'trances' and hurt himself in the past。 Do you remember the time at the supper table？ About two years ago； I think。 We were super…pissed at each other。 Nobody talking very much。 Then； all at once； his eyes rolled up in his head and he went face…first into his dinner。 Then onto the floor。
Remember？〃
〃Yes；〃 she said。 〃I sure do。 I thought he was having a convulsion。〃
〃Another time we were in the park；〃 he said。 〃Just Danny and I。 Saturday afternoon。 He was sitting on a swing； coasting back and forth。 He collapsed onto the ground。 It was like he'd been shot。 I ran over and picked him up and all of a sudden he just came around。 He sort of blinked at me and said； ‘I hurt my tummy。 Tell Mommy to close the bedroom windows if it rains。' And that night it rained like hell。〃
〃Yes； but…〃
〃And he's always ing in with cuts and scraped elbows。 His shins look like a battlefield in distress。 And when you ask him how he got this one or that one； he just says ‘Oh； I was playing；' and that's the end of it。〃
〃Jack； all kids get bumped and bruised up。 With little boys it's almost constant from the time they learn to walk until they're twelve or thirteen。〃
〃And I'm sure Danny gets his share；〃 Jack responded。 〃He's an active kid。 But I remember that day in the park and that night at the supper table。 And I wonder if some of our kid's bumps and bruises e from just keeling over。 That Dr。
Edmonds said Danny did it right in his office； for Christ's sake！〃
〃All right。 But those bruises were fingers。 I'd swear to it。 He didn't get them falling down。〃
〃He goes into a trance；〃 Jack said。 〃Maybe he sees something that happened in that room。 An argument。 Maybe a suicide。 Violent emotions。 It isn't like watching a movie； he's in a highly suggestible state。 He's right in the damn thing。 His subconscious is maybe visualizing whatever happened in a symbolic way 。 。 。 as a dead woman who's alive again； zombie； undead； ghoul； you pick your term。〃
〃You're giving me goose…bumps；〃 she said thickly。
〃I'm giving myself a few。 I'm no psychiatrist； but it seems to fit so well。
The walking dead woman as a symbol for dead emotions； dead lives； that just won't give up and go away 。 。 。 but because she's a subconscious figure； she's also him。 In the trance state； the conscious Danny is submerged。 The subconscious figure is pulling the strings。 So Danny put his hands around his own neck and…〃
〃Stop；〃 she said。 〃I get the picture。 I think that's more frightening than having a stranger creeping around the halls； Jack。 You can move away from a stranger。 You can't move away from yourself。 You're talking about schizophrenia。〃
〃Of a very limited type；〃 he said； but a trifle uneasily。 〃And of a very special nature。 Because he does seem able to read thoughts； and he really does seem to have precognitive flashes from time to time。 I can't think of that as mental illness no matter how hard I try。 We all have schizo deposits in us anyway。 I think as Danny gets older； he'll get this under control。〃
〃If you're right； then it's imperative that we get him out。 Whatever he has； this hotel is making it worse。〃
〃I wouldn't say that；〃 he objected。 〃If he'd done as he was told； he never would have gone up to that room in the first place。 It never would have happened。〃
〃My God； Jack！ Are you implying that being half…strangled was a 。 。 。 a fitting punishment for being off limits？〃
〃No 。 。 。 no。 Of course not。 But…〃
〃No buts；〃 she said； shaking her head violently。 〃The truth is； we're guessing。 We don't have any idea when he might turn a corner and run into one of those 。 。 。 air pockets； one…reel horror movies； whatever they are。 We have to get him away。〃 She laughed a little in the darkness。 〃Next thing we'll be seeing things。〃
〃Don't talk nonsense；〃 he said； and in the darkness of the room he saw the hedge lions bunching around the path； no longer flanking it but guarding it； hungry November lions。 Cold sweat sprang out on his brow。
〃You didn't really see anything； did you？〃 she was asking。 〃I mean； when you went up to that room。 You didn't see anything？〃 The lions were gone。 Now he saw a pink pastel shower curtain with a dark shape lounging behind it。 The closed door。 That muffled； hurried thump； and sounds after it that might have been running footsteps。 The horrible； lurching beat of his own heart as he struggled with the passkey。
〃Nothing；〃 he said； and that was true。 He had been strung tip； not sure of what was happening。 He hadn't had a chance to sift through his thoughts for a reasonable explanation concerning the bruises on his son's neck。 He had been pretty damn suggestible himself。 Hallucinations could sometimes be catching。
〃And you haven't changed your mind？ About the snowmobile； I mean？〃 His hands clamped into sudden tight fists （Stop nagging me！ ） by his sides。 〃I said I would； didn't I？ I will。 Now go to sleep。 It's been a long hard day。〃
〃And how；〃 she said。 There was a rustle of bedclothes as she turned toward him and kissed his shoulder。 〃I love you； Jack。〃
〃I love you too；〃 he said； but he was only mouthing the words。 His hands were still clenched into fists。 They felt like rocks on the ends of his arms。 The pulse beat prominently in his forehead。 She hadn't said a word about what was going to happen to them after they got down； when the party was over。 Not one word。 It had been Danny this and Danny that and Jack I'm so scared。 Oh yes； she was scared of a lot of closet boogeymen and jumping shadows； plenty scared。 But there was no lack of real ones； either。 When they got down to Sidewinder they would arrive with sixty dollars and the clothes they stood up in。 Not even a car。 Even if Sidewinder bad a pawnshop； which it didn't； they had nothing to hock but Wendy's ninety…dollar diamond engagement ring and the Sony AM/FM radio。
A pawnbroker might give them twenty bucks。 A kind pawnbroker。 There would be no job； not even part…time or seasonal； except maybe shoveling out driveways for three dollars a shot。 The picture of John Torrance； thirty years old； who had once published in Esquire and who had harbored dreams…not at all unreasonable dreams； he feltof being a major American writer during the next decade； with a shovel from the Sidewinder Western Auto on his shoulder； ringing doorbells 。 。
。 that picture suddenly came to him much more clearly than the hedge lions and he clenched his fists tighter still； feeling the fingernails sink into his palms and draw blood in mystic quarter…moon shapes。 John Tor_ rance； standing in line to change his sixty dollars into food stamps； standing in line again at the Sidewinder Methodist Church to get donated modities and dirty looks from the locals。 John Torrance explaining to Al that they'd just had to leave； had to shut down the boiler； had to leave the Overlook and all it contained open to vandals or thieves on snow machines because； you see； Al； attendez…vous； Al； there are ghosts up there and they have it in for my boy。 Good…by； Al。 Thoughts of Chapter Four； Spring es for John Torrance。 What then？ Whatever then？ They might be able to get to the West Coast in the VW； he supposed。 A new fuel pump would do it。 Fifty miles west of here and it was all downhill； you could damn near put the bug in neutral and coast to Utah。 On to sunny California； land of oranges and opportunity。 A man with his sterling record of alcoholism； student… beating； and ghost…chasing would undoubtedly be able to write his own ticket。
Anything you like。 Custodial engineer…swamping out Greyhound buses。 The automotive business…washing cars in a rubber suit。 The culinary arts； perhaps； washing dishes in a diner。 Or possibly a more responsible position； such as pumping gas。 A job like that even held the intellectual stimulation of making change and writing out credit slips。 I can give you twenty…five hours a week at the minimum wage。 That was heavy tunes in a year when Wonder bread went for sixty cents a loaf。
Blood had begun to trickle down from his palms。 Like stigmata； oh yes。 He squeezed tighter； savaging himself with pain。 His wife was asleep beside him； why not？ There were no problems。 He had agreed to take her and Danny away from the big bad boogeyman and there were no problems。 So you see； Al； I thought the best thing to do would be to （kill her。） The thought rose up from nowhere； naked and unadorned。 The urge to tumble her out of bed； naked； bewildered； just beginning to wake up； to pounce on her； seize her neck like the green limb of a young aspen and to throttle her； thumbs on windpipe； fingers pressing against the top of her spine； je
