sk.thewastelands-第35部分

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then　took　it　out　again。　Keeping　a　loaded　gun　in　a　locked　desk　drawer　was　one　thing；　carrying　one　around　New　York　City　was　quite　another。
　　He　stuffed　the　automatic　down　to　the　bottom　of　his　pack；　then　felt　behind　the　hanging　files　again。　This　time　he　brought　out　a　box　of　shells；　about　half…full。　He　remembered　his　father　had　done　some　target　shooting　at　the　police　range　on　First　Avenue　before　losing　interest。
　　The　board　creaked　again。　Jake　wanted　to　get　out　of　here。
　　He　removed　one　of　the　shirts　he'd　packed；　laid　it　on　his　father's　desk；　and　rolled　up　the　clip　and　the　box　of　。44　slugs　in　it。　Then　he　replaced　it　in　the　pack　and　used　the　buckles　to　snug　down　the　flap。　He　was　about　to　leave　when　his　eye　fixed　on　the　little　pile　of　stationery　sitting　beside　his　father's　In/Out　tray。　The　reflectorized　Ray…Ban　sunglasses　his　father　liked　to　wear　were　folded　on　top　of　the　stationery。　He　took　a　sheet　of　paper；　and；　after　a　moment's　thought；　the　sunglasses　as　well。　He　slipped　the　shades　into　his　breast　pocket。　Then　he　removed　the　slim　gold　pen　from　its　stand；　and　wrote　Dear　Dad　and　Mom　beneath　the　letterhead。
　　He　stopped；　frowning　at　the　salutation。　What　went　below　it？　What；　exactly；　did　he　have　to　say？　That　he　loved　them？　It　was　true；　but　it　wasn't　enough…there　were　all　sorts　of　other　unpleasant　truths　stuck　through　that　central　one；　like　steel　needles　jabbed　into　a　ball　of　yarn。
　　That　he　would　miss　them？　He　didn't　know　if　that　was　true　or　not；　which　was　sort　of　horrible。　That　he　hoped　they　would　miss　him？
　　He　suddenly　realized　what　the　problem　was。　If　he　were　planning　to　be　gone　just　today；　he　would　be　able　to　write　something。　But　he　felt　a　near…certainty　that　it　wasn't　just　today；　or　this　week；　or　this　month；　or　this　summer。　He　had　an　idea　that　when　he　walked　out　of　the　apartment　this　time；　it　would　be　for　good。
　　He　almost　crumpled　the　sheet　of　paper；　then　changed　his　mind。　He　wrote：　Please　take　care　of　yourselves。　Love；　J。　That　was　pretty　limp；　but　at　least　it　was　something。
　　Fine。　Now　will　you　stop　pressing　your　luck　and　get　out　of　here？
　　He　did。
　　The　apartment　was　almost　dead　still。　He　tiptoed　across　the　living　room；　hearing　only　the　sounds　of　his　parents'　breathing：　his　mother's　soft　little　snores；　his　father's　more　nasal　respiration；　where　every　indrawn　breath　ended　in　a　slim　high　whistle。　The　refrigerator　kicked　on　as　he　reached　the　entryway　and　he　froze　for　a　moment；　his　heart　thumping　hard　in　his　chest。　Then　he　was　at　the　door。　He　unlocked　it　as　quietly　as　he　could；　then　stepped　out　and　pulled　it　gently　shut　behind　him。
　　A　stone　seemed　to　roll　off　his　heart　as　the　latch　snicked；　and　a　strong　sense　of　anticipation　seized　him。　He　didn't　know　what　lay　ahead；　and　he　had　reason　to　believe　it　would　be　dangerous；　but　he　was　eleven　years　old…too　young　to　deny　the　exotic　delight　which　suddenly　filled　him。　There　was　a　highway　ahead…a　hidden　highway　leading　deep　into　some　unknown　land。　There　were　secrets　which　might　disclose　themselves　to　him　if　he　was　clever　。　。　。　and　if　he　was　lucky。　He　had　left　his　home　in　the　long　light　of　dawn；　and　what　lay　ahead　was　some　great　adventure。
　　If　I　stand；　if　I　can　be　true；　I'll　see　the　rose；　he　thought　as　he　pushed　the　button　for　the　elevator。　I　know　it　。　。　。　and　I'll　see　him；　too。
　　This　thought　filled　him　with　an　eagerness　so　great　it　was　almost　ecstasy。
　　Three　minutes　later　he　stepped　out　from　beneath　the　awning　which　shaded　the　entrance　to　the　building　where　he　had　lived　all　his　life。　He　paused　for　a　moment；　then　turned　left。　This　decision　did　not　feel　random；　and　it　wasn't。　He　was　moving　southeast；　along　the　path　of　the　Beam；　resuming　his　own　interrupted　quest　for　the　Dark　Tower。
　　　
　　　7
　　TWO　DAYS　AFTER　EDDIE　had　given　Roland　his　unfinished　key；　the　three　travellers…hot；　sweaty；　tired；　and　out　of　sorts…pushed　through　a　particu…larly　tenacious　tangle　of　bushes　and　second…growth　trees　and　discovered　what　first　appeared　to　be　two　faint　paths；　running　in　tandem　beneath　the　interlacing　branches　of　the　old　trees　crowding　close　on　either　side。　After　a　few　moments　of　study；　Eddie　decided　they　weren't　just　paths　but　the　remains　of　a　long…abandoned　road。　Bushes　and　stunted　trees　grew　like　untidy　quills　along　what　had　been　its　crown。　The　grassy　indentations　were　wheelruts；　and　either　of　them　was　wide　enough　to　acmodate　Susannah's　wheelchair。
　　〃Hallelujah！〃　he　cried。　〃Let's　drink　to　it！〃
　　Roland　nodded　and　unslung　the　waterskin　he　wore　around　his　waist。　He　first　handed　it　up　to　Susannah；　who　was　riding　in　her　sling　on　his　back。　Eddie's　key；　now　looped　around　Roland's　neck　on　a　piece　of　raw…hide；　shifted　beneath　his　shirt　with　each　movement。　She　took　a　swallow　and　passed　the　skin　to　Eddie。　He　drank　and　then　began　to　unfold　her　chair。　Eddie　had　e　to　hate　this　bulky；　balky　contraption；　it　was　like　an　iron　anchor；　always　holding　them　back。　Except　for　a　broken　spoke　or　two；　it　was　still　in　fine　condition。　Eddie　had　days　when　he　thought　the　goddam　thing　would　outlast　all　of　them。　Now；　however；　it　might　be　useful　。。。　for　a　while；　at　least。
　　Eddie　helped　Susannah　out　of　the　harness　and　placed　her　in　the　chair。　She　put　her　hands　against　the　small　of　her　back；　stretched；　and　grimaced　with　pleasure。　Both　Eddie　and　Roland　heard　the　small　crackle　her　spine　made　as　it　stretched。
　　Up　ahead；　a　large　creature　that　looked　like　a　badger　crossed　with　a　raccoon　ambled　out　of　the　woods。　It　looked　at　them　with　its　large；　gold…rimmed　eyes；　twitched　its　sharp；　whiskery　snout　as　if　to　say　Huh！　Big　deal！；　then　strolled　the　rest　of　the　way　across　the　road　and　disappeared　again。　Before　it　did；　Eddie　noted　its　tail…long　and　closely　coiled；　it　looked　like　a　fur…covered　bedspring。
　　〃What　was　that；　Roland？〃
　　〃A　billy…bumbler。〃
　　〃No　good　to　eat？〃
　　Roland　shook　his　head。　〃Tough。　Sour。　I'd　rather　eat　dog。〃
　　〃Have　you？〃　Susannah　asked。　〃Eaten　dog；　I　mean？〃
　　Roland　nodded；　but　did　not　elaborate。　Eddie　found　himself　thinking　of　a　line　from　an　old　Paul　Newman　movie：　That's　right；　lady…eaten　em　and　lived　like　one。
　　Birds　sang　cheerily　in　the　trees。　A　light　breeze　blew　along　the　road。　Eddie　and　Susannah　turned　their　faces　up　to　it　gratefully；　then　looked　at　each　other　and　smiled。　Eddie　was　struck　again　by　his　grati…tude　for　her…it　was　scary　to　have　someone　to　love；　but　it　was　also　very　fine。
　　〃Who　made　this　road？〃　Eddie　asked。
　　〃People　who　have　been　gone　a　long　time；〃　Roland　said。
　　〃The　same　ones　who　made　the　cups　and　dishes　we　found？〃　Susan…nah　asked。
　　〃No…not　them。　This　used　to　be　a　coach…road；　I　imagine；　and　if　it's　still　here；　after　all　these　years　of　neglect；　it　must　have　been　a　great　one　indeed　。　。　。　perhaps　the　Great　Road。　If　we　dug　down；　I　imagine　we'd　find　the　gravel　undersurface；　and　maybe　the　drainage　system；　as　well。　As　long　as　we're　here；　let's　have　a　bite　to　eat。〃
　　〃Food！〃　Eddie　cried。　〃Bring　it　on！　Chicken　Florentine！　Polynesian　shrimp！　Veal　lightly　sautéed　with　mushrooms　and…〃
　　Susannah　elbowed　him。　〃Quit　it；　white　boy。〃
　　〃I　can't　help　it　if　I've　got　a　vivid　imagination；〃　Eddie　said　cheerfully。
　　Roland　slipped　his　purse　off　his　shoulder；　hunkered　down；　and　began　to　put　together　a　small　noon　meal　of　dried　meat　wrapped　in　olive…colored　leaves。　Eddie　and　Susannah　had　discovered　that　these　leaves　tasted　a　little　like　spinach；　only　much　stronger。
　　Eddie　wheeled　Susannah　over　to　him　and　Roland　handed　her　three　of　what　Eddie　called　〃gunslinger　burritos。〃　She　began　to　eat。
　　When　Eddie　turned　back；　Roland　was　holding　out　three　of　the　wrapped　pieces　of　meat　to　him…and　something　else；　as　well。　It　was　the　chunk　of　ash　with　the　key　growing　out　of　it。　Roland　had　taken　it　off　the　rawhide　string；　which　now　lay　in　an　open　loop　around　his　neck。
　　〃Hey；　you　need　that；　don't　you？〃　Eddie　asked。
　　〃When　I　take　it　off；　the　voices　return；　but　they're　very　distant；〃　Roland　said。　〃I　can　deal　with　them。　Actually；　I　hear　them　even　when　I'm　wearing　it…like　the　voices　of　men　who　are　speaking　low　over　the　next　hill。　I　think　that's　because　the　key　is　yet　unfinished。　You　haven't　worked　on　it　since　you　gave　it　to　me。〃
　　〃Well　。　。　。　you　were　wearing　it；　and　I　didn't　want　to　。。。〃
　　Roland　said　nothing；　but　his　faded　blue　eyes　regarded　Eddie　with　their　patient　teacher's　look。
　　〃All　right；〃　Eddie　said；　〃I'm　afraid　of　fucking　it　up。　Satisfied？〃
　　〃According　to　your　brother；　you　fucked　everything　up　。。。　isn't　that　right？〃　Susannah　asked。
　　〃Susannah　Dean；　Girl　Psychologist。　You　missed　your　calling；　sweetheart。〃
　　Susannah　wasn't　offended　by　the　sarcasm。　She　lifted　the　waterskin　with　her　elbow；　like　a　redneck　tipping　a　jug；　and　drank　deeply。　〃It's　true；　though；　isn't　it？〃
　　Eddie；　who　realized　he　hadn't　finished　the　slingshot；　either…not　yet；　at　least…shrugged。
　　〃You　have　to　finish　it；〃　Roland　said　mildly。　〃I　think　the　time　is　ing　when　you'll　have　to　put　it　to　use。〃
　　Eddie　started　to　speak；　then　closed　his　mouth。　It　sounded　easy　when　you　said　it　right　out　like　that；　but　neither　of　them　really　understood　the　bottom　line。　The　bottom　line　was　this：　seventy　per　cent　or　eighty　or　even　ninety…eight　and　a　half　just　wouldn't　do。　Not　this　time。　And　if　he　did　screw　up；　he　couldn't　just　toss　the　thing　over　his　shoulder　and　walk　away。　For　one　thing；　he　hadn't　seen　another　ash…tree　since　the　day　he　had　cut　this　particular　piece　of　wood。　But　mostly　the　thing　that　was　fucking　him　up　was　just　this：　it　was　all　or　nothing。　If　he　messed　up　even　a　little；　the　key　wouldn't　turn　when　they　needed　it　to　turn。　And　he　was　increasingly　nervous　about　that　little　squiggle　at　the　end。　It　looked　simple；　but　if　the　curves　weren't　exactly　right　。　。　。
　　It　won't　work　the　way　it　is　now；　though；　that　much　you　do　know。
　　He　sighed；　looking　at　the　key。　Yes；　that　much　he　did　know。　He　would　have　to　try　to　finish　it。　His　fear　of　failure　would　make　it　even　harder　than　it　maybe　had　to　be；　but　he　would　have　to　swallow　the　fear　and　try　anyway。　Maybe　he　could　even　bring　it　off。　God　knew　he　had　brought　off　a　lot　in　the　weeks　since　Roland　had　entered　his　mind　on　a　Delta　jet　bound　into　JFK　Airport。　That　he　was　still　alive　and　sane　was　an　acplishment　in　itself。
　　Eddie　handed　the　key　back　to　Roland。　〃Wear　it　for　now；〃　he　said。　〃I'll　go　back　to　work　whe