sk.theshining-第97节

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　　can't。　Sorry。〃　Danny　looked　up　at　Hallorann　pleadingly。
　　〃Gonna　be　okay；〃　Hallorann　said；　and　gripped　her　again。　〃e　on。〃　The　three　of　them　made　it　to　where　the　snowmobile　had　slewed　around　and　stalled　out。　Hallorann　sat　the　woman　down　on　the　passenger　seat　and　put　her　coat　on。　He　lifted　her　feet　up…they　were　very　cold　but　not　frozen　yet…and　rubbed　them　briskly　with　Danny's　jacket　before　putting　on　her　boots。　Wendy's　face　was　alabaster　pale；　her　eyes　halflidded　and　dazed；　but　she　had　begun　to　shiver。
　　Hallorann　thought　that　was　a　good　sign。
　　Behind　them；　a　series　of　three　explosions　rocked　the　hotel。　Orange　flashes　lit　the　snow。
　　Danny　put　his　mouth　close　to　Hallorann's　ear　and　screamed　something。
　　〃What？〃
　　〃I　said　do　you　need　that？〃　The　boy　was　pointing　at　the　red　gascan　that　leaned　at　an　angle　in　the　snow。
　　〃I　guess　we　do。〃　He　picked　it　up　and　sloshed　it。　Still　gas　in　there；　he　couldn't　tell　how　much。
　　He　attached　the　can　to　the　back　of　the　snowmobile；　fumbling　the　job　several　times　before　getting　it　right　because　his　fingers　were　going　numb。　For　the　first　time　he　became　aware　that　he'd　lost　Howard　Cottrell's　mittens。
　　（i　get　out　of　this　i　gonna　have　my　sister　knit　you　a　dozen　pair；　howie）
　　〃Get　on！〃　Hallorann　shouted　at　the　boy。
　　Danny　shrank　back。　〃We'll　freeze！〃
　　〃We　have　to　go　around　to　the　equipment　shed！　There's　stuff　in　there　。　。　。
　　blankets　。　。　。　stuff　like　that。　Get　on　behind　your　mother！〃　Danny　got　on；　and　Hallorann　twisted　his　head　so　he　could　shout　into　Wendy's　face。
　　〃Missus　Torrance！　Hold　onto　me！　You　understand？　Hold　on！〃　She　put　her　arms　around　him　and　rested　her　cheek　against　his　back。　Hallorann　started　the　snowmobile　and　turned　the　throttle　delicately　so　they　would　start　up　without　a　jerk。　The　woman　had　the　weakest　sort　of　grip　on　him；　and　if　she　shifted　backward；　her　weight　would　tumble　both　her　and　the　boy　off。
　　They　began　to　move。　He　brought　the　snowmobile　around　in　a　circle　and　then　they　were　traveling　west　parallel　to　the　hotel。　Hallorann　cut　in　more　to　circle　around　behind　it　to　the　equipment　shed。
　　They　had　a　momentarily　clear　view　into　the　Overlook's　lobby。　The　gasflame　ing　up　through　the　shattered　floor　was　like　a　giant　birthday　candle；　fierce　yellow　at　its　heart　and　blue　around　its　flickering　edges。　In　that　moment　it　seemed　only　to　be　lighting；　not　destroying。　They　could　see　the　registration　desk　with　its　silver　bell；　the　credit　card　decals；　the　old…fashioned；　scrolled　cash　register；　the　small　figured　throw　rugs；　the　highbacked　chairs；　horsehair　hassocks。　Danny　could　see　the　small　sofa　by　the　fireplace　where　the　three　nuns　had　sat　on　the　day　they　had　e　up…closing　day。　But　this　was　the　real　closing　day。
　　Then　the　drift　on　the　porch　blotted　the　view　out。　A　moment　later　they　were　skirting　the　west　side　of　the　hotel。　It　was　still　light　enough　to　see　without　the　snowmobile's　headlight。　Both　upper　stories　were　flaming　now；　and　pennants　of　flame　shot　out　the　windows。　The　gleaming　white　paint　had　begun　to　blacken　and　peel。　The　shutters　which　had　covered　the　Presidential　Suite's　picture　window…　shutters　Jack　had　carefully　fastened　as　per　instructions　in　mid…October…now　hung　in　flaming　brands；　exposing　the　wide　and　shattered　darkness　behind　them；　like　a　toothless　mouth　yawing　in　a　final；　silent　deathrattle。
　　Wendy　had　pressed　her　face　against　Hallorann's　back　to　cut　out　the　wind；　and　Danny　had　likewise　pressed　his　face　against　his　mother's　back；　and　so　it　was　only　Hallorann　who　saw　the　final　thing；　and　he　never　spoke　of　it。　From　the　window　of　the　Presidential　Suite　he　thought　he　saw　a　huge　dark　shape　issue；　blotting　out　the　snowfield　behind　it。　For　a　moment　it　assumed　the　shape　of　a　huge；　obscene　manta；　and　then　the　wind　seemed　to　catch　it；　to　tear　it　and　shred　it　like　old　dark　paper。　It　fragmented；　was　caught　in　a　whirling　eddy　of　smoke；　and　a　moment　later　it　was　gone　as　if　it　had　never　been。　But　in　those　few　seconds　as　it　whirled　blackly；　dancing　like　negative　motes　of　light；　he　remembered　something　from　his　childhood　。　。　。　fifty　years　ago；　or　snore。　He　and　his　brother　had　e　upon　a　huge　nest　of　ground　wasps　just　north　of　their　farm。　It　had　been　tucked　into　a　hollow　between　the　earth　and　an　old　lightning…blasted　tree。　His　brother　had　had　a　big　old　niggerchaser　in　the　band　of　his　hat；　saved　all　the　way　from　the　Fourth　of　July。　He　had　lighted　it　and　tossed　it　at　the　nest。　It　had　exploded　with　a　loud　bang；　and　an　angry；　rising　hum…almost　a　low　shriek…had　risen　from　the　blasted　nest。　They　had　run　away　as　if　demons　had　been　at　their　beels。　In　a　way；　Hallorann　supposed　that　demons　had　been。　And　looking　back　over　his　shoulder；　as　he　was　now；　he　had　on　that　day　seen　a　large　dark　cloud　of　hornets　rising　in　the　hot　air；　swirling　together；　breaking　apart；　looking　for　whatever　enemy　had　done　this　to　their　home　so　that　they…the　single　group　intelligence…could　sting　it　to　death。
　　Then　the　thing　in　the　sky　was　gone　and　it　might　only　have　been　smoke　or　a　great　flapping　swatch　of　wallpaper　after　all；　and　there　was　only　the　Overlook；　a　flaming　pyre　in　the　roaring　throat　of　the　night。
　　
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　　There　was　a　key　to　the　equipment　shed's　padlock　on　his　key　ring；　but　Hallorann　saw　there　would　be　no　need　to　use　it。
　　The　door　was　ajar；　the　padlock　hanging　open　on　its　hasp。
　　〃I　can't　go　in　there；〃　Danny　whispered。
　　〃That's　okay。　You　stay　with　your　mom。　There　used　to　be　a　pile　of　old　horseblankets。　Probably　all　moth…eaten　by　now；　but　better　than　freezin　to　death。
　　Missus　Torrance；　you　still　with　us？〃
　　〃I　don't　know；〃　the　wan　voice　answered。　〃I　think　so。〃
　　〃Good。　I'll　be　just　a　second。〃
　　〃e　back　as　quick　as　you　can；〃　Danny　whispered。　〃Please。〃　Hallorann　nodded。　He　had　trained　the　headlamp　on　the　door　and　now　he　floundered　through　the　snow；　casting　a　long　shadow　in　front　of　himself。　He　pushed　the　equipment　shed　door　open　and　stepped　in。　The　horseblankets　were　still　in　the　corner；　by　the　rogue　set。　He　picked　up　four　of　themthey　smelled　musty　and　old　and　the　moths　certainly　had　been　having　a　free　lunch…and　then　he　paused。
　　One　of　the　rogue　mallets　was　gone。
　　（Was　that　what　he　hit　me　with？）　Well；　it　didn't　matter　what　he'd　been　hit　with；　did　it？　Still；　his　fingers　went　to　the　side　of　his　face　and　began　to　explore　the　huge　lump　there。　Six　hundred　dollars'　worth　of　dental　work　undone　at　a　single　blow。　And　after　all　（maybe　he　didn't　hit　me　with　one　of　those。　Maybe　one　got　lost。　Or　stolen。　Or　took　for　a　souvenir。　After　all）　it　didn't　really　matter。　No　one　was　going　to　be　playing　rogue　here　next　summer。　Or　any　summer　in　the　foreseeable　future。
　　No；　it　didn't　really　matter；　except　that　looking　at　the　racked　mallets　with　the　single　missing　member　had　a　kind　of　fascination。　He　found　himself　thinking　of　the　hard　wooden　whack！　of　the　mallet　head　striking　the　round　wooden　ball。　A　nice　summery　sound。　Watching　it　skitter　across　the　（bone。　blood。）　gravel。　It　conjured　up　images　of　（bone。　blood。）　iced　tea；　porch　swings；　ladies　in　white　straw　hats；　the　hum　of　mosquitoes；　and　（bad　little　boys　who　don't　play　by　the　rules。）　all　that　stuff。　Sure。　Nice　game。　Out　of　style　now；　but　。　。　。　nice。
　　〃Dick？〃　The　voice　was　thin；　frantic；　and；　he　thought；　rather　unpleasant。　〃Are　you　all　right；　Dick？　e　out　now。　Please！〃　（〃e　on　out　now　nigguh　de　massa　callin　youall。〃）　His　hand　closed　tightly　around　one　of　the　mallet　handles；　liking　its　feel。
　　（pare　the　rod；　spoil　the　child。）　His　eyes　went　blank　in　the　flickering；　fire…shot　darkness。　Really；　it　would　be　doing　them　both　a　favor。　She　was　messed　up　。　。　。　in　pain。　。　。　and　most　of　it　（all　of　it）　was　that　damn　boy's　fault。　Sure。　He　had　left　his　own　daddy　in　there　to　burn。
　　When　you　thought　of　it；　it　was　damn　close　to　murder。　Patricide　was　what　they　called　it。　Pretty　goddam　low：
　　〃Mr。　Hallorann？〃　Her　voice　was　low；　weak；　querulous。　He　didn't　much　like　the　sound　of　it。
　　〃Dick！〃　The　boy　was　sobbing　now；　in　terror。
　　Hallorann　drew　the　mallet　from　the　rack　and　turned　toward　the　flood　of　white　light　from　the　snowmobile　headlamp。　His　feet　scratched　unevenly　over　the　boards　of　the　equipment　shed；　like　the　feet　of　a　clockwork　toy　that　has　been　wound　up　and　set　in　motion。
　　Suddenly　he　stopped；　looked　wonderingly　at　the　mallet　in　his　hands；　and　asked　himself　with　rising　horror　what　it　was　he　had　been　thinking　of　doing。　Murder？
　　Had　he　been　thinking　of　murder？
　　For　a　moment　his　entire　mind　seemed　filled　with　an　angry；　weakly　hectoring　voice：　（Do　it！　Do　it；　you　weak…kneed　no…balls　nigger！　Kill　them！　KILL　THEM　BOTH！）　Then　he　flung　the　mallet　behind　him　with　a　whispered；　terrified　cry。　It　clattered　into　the　corner　where　the　horseblankets　had　been；　one　of　the　two　heads　pointed　toward　him　in　an　unspeakable　invitation。
　　He　fled。
　　Danny　was　sitting　on　the　snowmobile　seat　and　Wendy　was　holding　him　weakly。　His　face　was　shiny　with　tears；　and　he　was　shaking　as　if　with　ague。　Between　his　clicking　teeth　he　said：　〃Where　were　you？　We　were　scared！〃
　　〃It's　a　good　place　to　be　scared　of；〃　Hallorann　said　slowly。　〃Even　if　that　place　burns　flat　to　the　foundation；　you'll　never　get　me　within　a　hundred　miles　of　here　again。　Here；　Missus　Torrance；　wrap　these　around　you。　I'll　help。　You　too；　Danny。