sk.thewastelands-第32节

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　　It　was　time　to　go　home。
　　He　saw　the　two　books　he'd　bought　at　The　Manhattan　Restaurant　of　the　Mind　lying　nearby。　As　he　picked　them　up；　a　bright　silver　object　slipped　from　the　pages　of　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo　and　fell　into　a　scruffy　patch　of　weeds。　Jake　bent；　favoring　his　hurt　ankle；　and　picked　it　up。　As　he　did　so；　the　choir　seemed　to　sigh　and　swell；　then　fell　back　to　its　almost　inaudible　hum。
　　〃So　that　part　was　real；　too；〃　he　murmured。　He　ran　the　ball　of　his　thumb　over　the　blunt　protruding　points　of　the　key　and　into　those　primi…tive　V…shaped　notches。　He　sent　it　skating　over　the　mild　s…curves　at　the　end　of　the　third　notch。　Then　he　tucked　it　deep　into　the　right　front　pocket　of　his　pants　and　began　to　limp　back　toward　the　fence。
　　He　had　reached　it　and　was　preparing　to　scramble　over　the　top　when　a　terrible　thought　suddenly　seized　his　mind。
　　The　rose！　What　if　somebody　es　in　here　and　picks　it？
　　A　little　moan　of　horror　escaped　him。　He　turned　back　and　after　a　moment　his　eyes　picked　it　out；　although　it　was　deep　in　the　shadow　of　a　neighboring　building　now…a　tiny　pink　shape　in　the　dimness；　vulnerable；　beautiful；　and　alone。
　　I　can't　leave　it…I　have　to　guard　it！
　　But　a　voice　spoke　up　in　his　mind；　a　voice　that　was　surely　that　of　the　man　he　had　met　at　the　way　station　in　that　strange　other　life。　No　one　will　pick　it。　Nor　will　any　vandal　crush　it　beneath　his　heel　because　his　dull　eyes　cannot　abide　the　sight　of　its　beauty。　That　is　not　the　danger。　It　can　protect　itself　from　such　things　as　those。
　　A　sense　of　deep　relief　swept　through　Jake。
　　Can　I　e　here　again　and　look　at　it？　he　asked　the　phantom　voice。
　　When　I'm　low；　or　if　the　voices　e　hack　and　start　their　argument　again？　Can　I　e　back　and　look　at　it　and　have　some　peace？
　　The　voice　did　not　answer；　and　after　a　few　moments　of　listening；　Jake　decided　it　was　gone。　He　tucked　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo　and　Riddle…De…Dum！　into　the　waistband　of　his　pants…which；　he　saw；　were　streaked　with　dirt　and　dotted　with　clinging　burdocks…and　then　grabbed　the　board　fence。　He　boosted　himself　up；　swung　over　the　top；　and　dropped　onto　the　sidewalk　of　Second　Avenue　again；　being　careful　to　land　on　his　good　foot。
　　Traffic　on　the　Avenue…both　pedestrian　and　vehicular…was　much　heavier　now　as　people　made　their　way　home　for　the　night。　A　few　passersby　looked　at　the　dirty　boy　in　the　torn　blazer　and　untucked；　flapping　shirt　as　he　jumped　awkwardly　down　from　the　fence；　but　not　many。　New　Yorkers　are　used　to　the　sight　of　people　doing　peculiar　things。
　　He　stood　there　a　moment；　feeling　a　sense　of　loss　and　realizing　some…thing　else；　as　well…the　arguing　voices　were　still　absent。　That；　at　least；　was　something。
　　He　glanced　at　the　board　fence；　and　the　verse　of　spray…painted　dog…gerel　seemed　to　leap　out　at　him；　perhaps　because　the　paint　was　the　same　color　as　the　rose。
　　〃See　the　TURTLE　of　enormous　girth〃　Jake　muttered。　〃On　his　shell　he　holds　the　earth。〃　He　shivered。　〃What　a　day！　Boy！〃
　　He　turned　and　began　to　limp　slowly　in　the　direction　of　home。
　　
　　　19
　　THE　DOORMAN　MUST　HAVE　buzzed　up　as　soon　as　Jake　entered　the　lobby；　because　his　father　was　standing　outside　the　elevator　when　it　opened　on　the　fifth　floor。　Elmer　Chambers　was　wearing　faded　jeans　and　cowboy　boots　that　improved　his　five…ten　to　a　rootin；　tootin　six　feet。　His　black；　crewcut　hair　bolted　up　from　his　head；　for　as　long　as　Jake　could　remem…ber；　his　father　had　looked　like　a　man　who　had　just　suffered　some　tremen…dous；　galvanizing　shock。　As　soon　as　Jake　stepped　out　of　the　elevator；　Chambers　seized　him　by　the　arm。
　　〃Look　at　you！〃　His　father's　eyes　flicked　up　and　down；　taking　in　Jake's　dirty　face　and　hands；　the　blood　drying　on　his　cheek　and　temple；　the　dusty　pants；　the　torn　blazer；　and　the　burdock　that　clung　to　his　tie　like　some　peculiar　clip。　〃Get　in　here！　Where　the　hell　have　you　been？　Your　mother's　just　about　off　her　fucking　gourd！〃
　　Without　giving　Jake　a　chance　to　answer；　he　dragged　him　through　the　apartment　door。　Jake　saw　Greta　Shaw　standing　in　the　archway　between　the　dining　room　and　the　kitchen。　She　gave　him　a　look　of　guarded　sympathy；　then　disappeared　before　the　eyes　of　〃the　mister〃　could　chance　upon　her。
　　Jake's　mother　was　sitting　in　her　rocker。　She　got　to　her　feet　when　she　saw　Jake；　but　she　did　not　leap　to　her　feet；　neither　did　she　pelt　across　to　the　foyer　so　she　could　cover　him　with　kisses　and　invective。　As　she　came　toward　him；　Jake　assessed　her　eyes　and　guessed　she'd　had　at　least　three　Valium　since　noon。　Maybe　four。　Both　of　his　parents　were　firm　believers　in　better　living　through　chemistry。
　　〃You're　bleeding！　Where　have　you　been？〃　She　made　this　inquiry　in　her　cultured　Vassar　voice；　pronouncing　been　so　it　rhymed　with　seen。　She　might　have　been　greeting　an　acquaintance　who　had　been　involved　in　a　minor　traffic　accident。
　　〃Out；〃　he　said。
　　His　father　gave　him　a　rough　shake。　Jake　wasn't　prepared　for　it。　He　stumbled　and　came　down　on　his　bad　ankle。　The　pain　flared　again；　and　he　was　suddenly　furious。　Jake　didn't　think　his　father　was　pissed　because　he　had　disappeared　from　school；　leaving　only　his　mad　position　behind；　his　father　was　pissed　because　Jake　had　had　the　temerity　to　fuck　up　his　own　precious　schedule。
　　To　this　point　in　his　life；　Jake　had　been　aware　of　only　three　feelings　about　his　father：　puzzlement；　fear；　and　a　species　of　weak；　confused　love。　Now　a　fourth　and　fifth　surfaced。　One　was　anger；　the　other　was　disgust。　Mixed　in　with　these　unpleasant　feelings　was　that　sense　of　homesickness。　It　was　the　largest　thing　inside　him　right　now；　weaving　through　everything　else　like　smoke。　He　looked　at　his　father's　flushed　cheeks　and　screaming　haircut　and　wished　he　was　back　in　the　vacant　lot；　looking　at　the　rose　and　listening　to　the　choir。　This　is　not　my　place；　he　thought。　Not　anymore。　I　have　work　to　do。　If　only　I　knew　what　it　was。
　　〃Let　go　of　me；〃　he　said。
　　〃What　did　you　say　to　me？〃　His　father's　blue　eyes　widened。　They　were　very　bloodshot　tonight。　Jake　guessed　he　had　been　dipping　heavily　into　his　supply　of　magic　powder；　and　that　probably　made　this　a　bad　time　to　cross　him；　but　Jake　realized　he　intended　to　cross　him　just　the　same。　He　would　not　be　shaken　like　a　mouse　in　the　jaws　of　a　sadistic　tomcat。　Not　tonight。　Maybe　not　ever　again。　He　suddenly　realized　that　a　large　part　of　his　anger　stemmed　from　one　simple　fact：　he　could　not　talk　to　them　about　what　had　happened…what　was　still　happening。　They　had　closed　all　the　doors。
　　But　I　have　a　key；　he　thought；　and　touched　its　shape　through　the　fabric　of　his　pants。　And　the　rest　of　that　strange　verse　occurred　to　him：　If　you　want　to　run　and　play；　/e　along　the　BEAM　today。
　　〃I　said　let　go　of　me；〃　he　repeated。　〃I've　got　a　sprained　ankle　and　you're　hurting　it。〃
　　〃I'll　hurt　more　than　your　ankle　if　you　don't…〃
　　Sudden　strength　seemed　to　How　into　Jake。　He　seized　the　hand　clamped　on　his　arm　just　below　the　shoulder　and　shoved　it　violently　away。　His　father's　mouth　dropped　open。
　　〃I　don't　work　for　you；〃　Jake　said。　〃I'm　your　son；　remember？　If　you　forgot；　check　the　picture　on　your　desk。〃
　　His　father's　upper　lip　pulled　back　from　his　perfectly　capped　teeth　in　a　snarl　that　was　two　parts　surprise　and　one　part　fury。　〃Don't　you　talk　to　me　like　that；　mister…where　in　the　hell　is　your　respect？〃
　　〃I　don't　know。　Maybe　I　lost　it　on　the　way　home。〃
　　〃You　spend　the　whole　goddamn　day　absent　without　leave　and　then　you　stand　there　running　your　fat；　disrespectful　mouth…〃
　　〃Stop　it！　Stop　it；　both　of　you！〃　Jake's　mother　cried。　She　sounded　near　tears　in　spite　of　the　tranquilizers　perking　through　her　system。
　　Jake's　father　reached　for　Jake's　arm　again；　then　changed　his　mind。　The　surprising　force　with　which　his　son　had　torn　his　hand　away　a　moment　ago　might　have　had　something　to　do　with　it。　Or　perhaps　it　was　only　the　look　in　Jake's　eyes。　〃I　want　to　know　where　you've　been。〃
　　〃Out。　I　told　you　that。　And　that's　all　I'm　going　to　tell　you。〃
　　〃Fuck　that！　Your　headmaster　called；　your　French　teacher　actually　came　here；　and　they　both　had　beaucoup　questions　for　you！　So　do　I；　and　I　want　some　answers！〃
　　〃Your　clothes　are　dirty；〃　his　mother　observed；　and　then　added　tim…idly：　〃Were　you　mugged；　Johnny？　Did　you　play　hookey　and　get　mugged？〃
　　〃Of　course　he　wasn't　mugged；〃　Elmer　Chambers　snarled。　〃Still　wearing　his　watch；　isn't　he？〃
　　〃But　there's　blood　on　his　head。〃
　　〃It's　okay；　Mom。　I　just　bumped　it。〃
　　〃But…〃
　　〃I'm　going　to　go　to　bed。　I'm　very；　very　tired。　If　you　want　to　talk　about　this　in　the　morning；　okay。　Maybe　we'll　all　be　able　to　make　some　sense　then。　But　for　now；　I　don't　have　a　thing　to　say。〃
　　His　father　took　a　step　after　him；　reaching　out。
　　〃No；　Elmer！〃　Jake's　mother　almost　screamed。
　　Chambers　ignored　her。　He　grabbed　Jake　by　the　back　of　the　blazer。　〃Don't　you　just　walk　away　from　me…〃　he　began；　and　then　Jake　whirled；　tearing　the　blazer　out　of　his　hand。　The　seam　under　the　right　arm；　already　strained；　let　go　with　a　rough　purring　sound。
　　His　father　saw　those　blazing　eyes　and　stepped　away。　The　rage　on　his　face　was　doused　by　something　that　looked　like　terror。　That　blaze　was　not　metaphorical；　Jake's　eyes　actually　seemed　to　be　on　fire。　His　mother　gave　voice　to　a　strengthless　little　scream；　clapped　one　hand　to　her　mouth；　took　two　large；　stumbling　ste