sk.thewastelands-第34部分

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！


med　in　the　darkness　behind　his　lids　until　they　made　a　sentence　which　stood　forth　in　an　outline　of　blue　light：
　　TRAVELLER；　BEYOND　LIES　MID…WORLD。
　　Sleeping　in　his　bed；　Jake　drew　his　knees　up　against　his　chest。　The　hand　holding　the　key　was　under　his　pillow；　and　now　his　fingers　tightened　their　grip　on　it。
　　Mid…World；　he　thought；　of　course。　St。　Louis　and　Topeka　and　Oz　and　the　World's　Fair　and　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo。
　　He　opened　his　dreaming　eyes　and　pressed　on。　The　clearing　behind　the　trees　was　paved　with　old　cracked　asphalt。　A　faded　yellow　circle　had　been　painted　in　the　middle。　Jake　realized　it　was　a　playground　basketball　court　even　before　he　saw　the　boy　at　the　far　end；　standing　at　the　foul　line　and　shooting　baskets　with　a　dusty　old　Wilson　ball。　They　popped　in　one　after　another；　falling　neatly　through　the　netless　hole。　The　basket　jutted　out　from　something　that　looked　like　a　subway　kiosk　which　had　been　shut　up　for　the　night。　Its　closed　door　was　painted　in　alternating　diagonal　stripes　of　yellow　and　black。　From　behind　it…or　perhaps　from　below　it…Jake　could　hear　the　steady　rumble　of　powerful　machinery。　The　sound　was　somehow　disturbing。　Scary。
　　Don't　step　on　the　robots；　the　boy　shooting　the　baskets　said　without　turning　around。　I　guess　they're　all　dead；　but　I　wouldn't　take　any　chances；　if　I　were　you。
　　Jake　looked　around　and　saw　a　number　of　shattered　mechanical　devices　lying　around。　One　looked　like　a　rat　or　mouse；　another　like　a　bat。　A　mechanical　snake　lay　in　two　rusty　pieces　almost　at　his　feet。
　　ARE　you　me？　Jake　asked；　taking　a　step　closer　to　die　boy　at　the　basket；　but　even　before　he　turned　around；　Jake　knew　that　wasn't　the　case。　The　boy　was　bigger　than　Jake；　and　at　least　thirteen。　His　hair　was　darker；　and　when　he　looked　at　Jake；　he　saw　that　the　stranger's　eyes　were　hazel。　His　own　were　blue。
　　What　do　you　think？　the　strange　boy　asked；　and　bounce…passed　the　ball　to　Jake。
　　No；　of　course　not；　Jake　said。　He　spoke　apologetically。　It's　just　that　I've　been　cut　in　two　for　the　last　three　weeks　or　so。　He　dipped　and　shot　from　mid…court。　The　ball　arched　high　and　dropped　silently　through　the　hoop。　He　was　delighted　。　。　。　but　he　discovered　he　was　also　afraid　of　what　this　strange　boy　might　have　to　tell　him。
　　I　know；　the　boy　said。　It's　been　a　bitch　for　you；　hasn't　it？　He　was　wearing　faded　madras　shorts　and　a　yellow　t…shirt　that　said　NEVER　A　DULL　MOMENT　IN　MID…WORLD。　He　had　tied　a　green　bandanna　around　his　forehead　to　keep　his　hair　out　of　his　eyes。　And　things　are　going　to　get　worse　before　they　get　better。
　　What　is　this　place？　Jake　asked。　And　who　are　you？
　　It's　the　Portal　of　the　Bear　。　。　。　but　it's　also　Brooklyn。
　　That　didn't　seem　to　make　sense；　and　yet　somehow　it　did。　Jake　told　himself　that　things　always　seemed　that　way　in　dreams；　but　this　didn't　really　feel　like　a　dream。
　　As　for　me；　I　don't　matter　much；　the　boy　said。　He　hooked　the　basket…ball　over　his　shoulder。　It　rose；　then　dropped　smoothly　through　the　hoop。　I'm　supposed　to　guide　you；　that's　all。　I'll　take　you　where　you　need　to　go；　and　I'll　show　you　what　you　need　to　see；　but　you　have　to　be　careful　because　I　won't　know　you。　And　strangers　make　Henry　nervous。　He　can　get　mean　when　he's　nervous；　and　he's　bigger　than　you。
　　Who's　Henry？　Jake　asked。
　　Never　mind。　Just　don't　let　him　notice　you。　All　you　have　to　do　is　hang　out　。　。　。　and　follow　us。　Then；　when　we　leave　。　。　。
　　The　boy　looked　at　Jake。　There　was　both　pity　and　fear　in　his　eyes。　Jake　suddenly　realized　that　the　boy　was　starting　to　fade…lie　could　see　the　yellow　and　black　slashes　on　the　box　right　through　the　boy's　yellow　t…shirt。
　　How　will　I　find　you？　Jake　was　suddenly　terrified　that　the　boy　would　melt　away　pletely　before　he　could　say　everything　Jake　needed　to　hear。
　　No　problem；　the　boy　said。　His　voice　had　taken　on　a　queer；　chiming　echo。　Just　take　the　subway　to　Co…Op　City。　You'll　find　me。
　　No；　I　won't！　Jake　cried。　Co…Op　City's　huge！　There　must　be　a　hundred　thousand　people　living　there！
　　Now　the　boy　was　just　a　milky　outline。　Only　his　hazel　eyes　were　still　pletely　there；　like　the　Cheshire　cat's　grin　in　Alice。　They　regarded　Jake　with　passion　and　anxiety。　No　problem…o；　he　said。　You　found　the　key　and　the　rose；　didn't　you？　You'll　find　me　the　same　way。　This　afternoon；　Jake。　Around　three　o'clock　should　be　good。　You'll　have　to　be　careful；　and　you'll　have　to　be　quick。　He　paused；　a　ghostly　boy　with　an　old　basketball　lying　near　one　transparent　foot。　I　have　to　go　now　。　。　。　but　it　was　good　to　meet　you。　You　seem　like　a　nice　kid；　and　I'm　riot　surprised　he　loves　you。　Remember；　there's　danger；　though。　He　careful　。　。　。　and　he　quick。
　　Wait！　Jake　yelled；　and　run　across　the　basketball　court　toward　the　disappearing　boy。　One　of　his　feet　struck　a　shattered　robot　that　looked　like　a　child's　toy　tractor。　He　stumbled　and　fell　to　his　knees；　shredding　his　pants。　He　ignored　the　thin　burn　of　pain。　Wait！　You　have　to　tell　me　what　all　this　is　about！　You　have　to　tell　me　why　these　things　are　happening　to　me！
　　Because　of　the　Beam；　the　boy　who　was　now　only　a　pair　of　floating　eyes　replied；　and　because　of　the　Tower。　In　the　end；　all　things；　even　the　Beams；　serve　the　Dark　Tower。　Did　you　think　you　would　be　any　different？
　　Jake　flailed　and　stumbled　to　his　feet。　Will　I　find　him？　Will　I　find　the　gunslinger？
　　I　don't　know；　the　boy　answered。　His　voice　now　seemed　to　e　from　a　million　miles　away。　I　only　know　you　must　try。　About　that　you　have　no　choice。
　　The　boy　was　gone。　The　basketball　court　in　the　woods　was　empty。　The　only　sound　was　that　faint　rumble　of　machinery；　and　Jake　didn't　like　it。　There　was　something　wrong　with　that　sound；　and　he　thought　that　what　was　wrong　with　the　machinery　was　affecting　the　rose；　or　vice…versa。　It　was　all　hooked　together　somehow。
　　He　picked　up　the　old；　scuffed…up　basketball　and　shot。　It　went　neatly　through　the　hoop　。　。　。　and　disappeared。
　　A　river；　the　strange　boy's　voice　sighed。　It　was　like　a　puff　of　breeze。　It　came　from　nowhere　and　everywhere。　The　answer　is　a　river。
　　　
　　　4
　　JAKE　WOKE　IN　THE　first　milky　light　of　dawn；　looking　up　at　the　ceiling　of　his　room。　He　was　thinking　of　the　guy　in　The　Manhattan　Restaurant　of　the　Mind…Aaron　Deepneau；　who'd　been　hanging　around　on　Bleecker　Street　back　when　Bob　Dylan　only　knew　how　to　blow　open　G　on　his　Hohner。　Aaron　Deepneau　had　given　Jake　a　riddle。
　　What　can　run　but　never　walks；
　　Has　a　mouth　but　never　talks；
　　Has　a　bed　but　never　sleeps；
　　Has　a　head　but　never　weeps？
　　Now　he　knew　the　answer。　A　river　ran；　a　river　had　a　mouth；　a　river　had　a　bed；　a　river　had　a　head。　The　boy　had　told　him　the　answer。　The　boy　in　the　dream。
　　And　suddenly　he　thought　of　something　else　Deepneau　had　said：　That's　only　half　the　answer。　Samson's　riddle　is　a　double；　my　friend。
　　Jake　glanced　at　his　bedside　clock　and　saw　it　was　twenty　past　six。　It　was　time　to　get　moving　if　he　wanted　to　be　out　of　here　before　his　parents　woke　up。　There　would　be　no　school　for　him　today；　Jake　thought　that　maybe；　as　far　as　he　was　concerned；　school　had　been　cancelled　forever。
　　He　threw　back　the　bedclothes；　swung　his　feet　out　onto　the　floor；　and　saw　that　there　were　scrapes　on　both　knees。　Fresh　scrapes。　He　had　bruised　his　left　side　yesterday　when　he　slipped　on　the　bricks　and　fell；　and　he　had　banged　his　head　when　he　fainted　near　the　rose；　but　nothing　had　happened　to　his　knees。
　　〃That　happened　in　the　dream；〃　Jake　whispered；　and　found　he　wasn't　surprised　at　all。　He　began　to　dress　swiftly。
　　　
　　　5
　　IN　THE　BACK　OF　his　closet；　under　a　jumble　of　old　laceless　sneakers　and　a　heap　of　Spiderman　ic　books；　he　found　the　packsack　he　had　worn　to　grammar　school。　No　one　would　be　caught　dead　with　a　packsack　at　Piper…how　too；　too　mon；　my　death…and　as　Jake　grabbed　it；　he　felt　a　wave　of　powerful　nostalgia　for　those　old　days　when　life　had　seemed　so　simple。
　　He　stuffed　a　clean　shirt；　a　clean　pair　of　jeans；　some　underwear　and　socks　into　it；　then　added　Riddle…De…Dum！　and　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo。　He　had　put　the　key　on　his　desk　before　foraging　in　the　closet　for　his　old　pack；　and　the　voices　came　back　at　once；　but　they　were　distant　and　muted。　Besides；　he　felt　sure　he　could　make　them　go　away　pletely　by　holding　the　key　again；　and　that　eased　his　mind。
　　Okay；　he　thought；　looking　into　the　pack。　Even　with　the　books　added；　there　was　plenty　of　room　left。　What　else？
　　For　a　moment　he　thought　there　was　nothing　else　。　。　。　and　then　he　knew。
　　　
　　　6
　　His　FATHER'S　STUDY　SMELLED　of　cigarettes　and　ambition。
　　It　was　dominated　by　a　huge　teakwood　desk。　Across　the　room；　set　into　a　wall　otherwise　lined　with　books；　were　three　Mitsubishi　television　monitors。　Each　was　tuned　to　one　of　the　rival　networks；　and　at　night；　when　his　father　was　in　here；　each　played　out　its　progression　of　prime…time　images　with　the　sound　off。
　　The　curtains　were　drawn；　and　Jake　had　to　turn　on　the　desk　lamp　in　order　to　see。　He　felt　nervous　just　being　in　here；　even　wearing　sneakers。　If　his　father　should　wake　up　and　e　in　（and　it　was　possible；　no　matter　how　late　he　went　to　bed　or　how　much　he　drank；　Elmer　Chambers　was　a　light　sleeper　and　an　early　riser）；　he　would　be　angry。　At　the　very　least　it　would　make　a　clean　getaway　much　tougher。　The　sooner　he　was　out　of　here；　the　better　Jake　would　feel。
　　The　desk　was　locked；　but　his　father　had　never　made　any　secret　of　where　he　kept　the　key。　Jake　slid　his　fingers　under　the　blotter　and　hooked　it　out。　He　opened　the　third　drawer；　reached　past　the　hanging　files；　and　touched　cold　metal。
　　A　board　creaked　in　the　hall　and　he　froze。　Several　seconds　passed。　When　the　creak　didn't　e　again；　Jake　pulled　out　the　weapon　his　father　kept　for　〃home　defense〃…a　。44　Ruger　automatic。　His　father　had　shown　this　weapon　to　Jake　with　great　pride　on　the　day　he　had　bought　it…two　years　ago；　that　had　been。　He　had　been　totally　deaf　to　his　wife's　nervous　demands　that　he　put　it　away　before　someone　got　hurt。
　　Jake　found　the　button　on　the　side　that　released　the　clip。　It　fell　out　into　his　hand　with　a　metallic　snak！　sound　that　seemed　very　loud　in　the　quiet　apartment。　He　glanced　nervously　toward　the　door　again；　then　turned　his　attention　to　the　clip。　It　was　fully　loaded。　He　started　to　slide　it　back　into　the　gun；　and　then　took　it　out　again。　Keeping　a　loaded　gun　in　a　locked　desk　drawer　was　one　thing；　carrying　one　aro