sk.thewastelands-第37部分

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　　JAKE　STEPPED　OUT　OF　his　apartment　building　at　about　quarter　of　seven；　which　left　him　with　over　eight　hours　to　kill。　He　considered　taking　the　train　out　to　Brooklyn　right　away；　then　decided　it　was　a　bad　idea。　A　kid　out　of　school　was　apt　to　attract　more　attention　in　the　hinterlands　than　in　the　heart　of　a　big　city；　and　if　he　really　had　to　search　for　the　place　and　the　boy　he　was　supposed　to　meet　there；　he　was　cooked　already。
　　No　problem…o；　the　boy　in　the　yellow　T…shirt　and　green　bandanna　had　said。　You　found　the　key　and　the　rose；　didn't　you？　You'll　find　me　the　same　way。
　　Except　Jake　could　no　longer　remember　just　how　he　had　found　the　key　and　the　rose。　He　could　only　remember　the　joy　and　the　sense　of　surety　which　had　filled　his　heart　and　head。　He　would　just　have　to　hope　that　would　happen　again。　In　the　meantime；　he'd　keep　moving。　That　was　the　best　way　to　keep　from　being　noticed　in　New　York。
　　He　walked　most　of　the　way　to　First　Avenue；　then　headed　back　the　way　he　had　e；　only　sliding　uptown　little　by　little　as　he　followed　the　pattern　of　the　WALK　lights　（perhaps　knowing；　on　some　deep　level；　that　even　they　served　the　Beam）。　Around　ten　o'clock　he　found　himself　in　front　of　the　Metropolitan　Museum　of　Art　on　Fifth　Avenue。　He　was　hot；　tired；　and　depressed。　He　wanted　a　soda；　but　he　thought　he　ought　to　hold　onto　what　little　money　he　had　for　as　long　as　he　could。　He'd　taken　every　cent　out　of　the　box　he　kept　by　his　bed；　but　it　only　amounted　to　eight　dollars；　give　or　take　a　few　cents。
　　A　group　of　school…kids　were　lining　up　for　a　tour。　Public　school；　Jake　was　almost　sure…they　were　dressed　as　casually　as　he　was。　No　blazers　from　Paul　Stuart；　no　ties；　no　jumpers；　no　simple　little　skirts　that　cost　a　hundred　and　twenty…five　bucks　at　places　like　Miss　So　Pretty　or　Tweenity。　This　crowd　was　Kmart　all　the　way。　On　impulse；　Jake　stood　at　the　end　of　the　line　and　followed　them　into　the　museum。
　　The　tour　took　an　hour　and　fifteen　minutes。　Jake　enjoyed　it。　The　museum　was　quiet。　Even　better；　it　was　air…conditioned。　And　the　pictures　were　nice。　He　was　particularly　fascinated　by　a　small　group　of　Frederick　Remington's　Old　West　paintings　and　a　large　picture　by　Thomas　Hart　Benton　that　showed　a　steam　lootive　charging　across　the　great　plains　toward　Chicago　while　beefy　farmers　in　bib　overalls　and　straw　hats　stood　in　their　fields　and　watched。　He　wasn't　noticed　by　either　of　the　teachers　with　the　group　until　the　very　end。　Then　a　pretty　black　woman　in　a　severe　blue　suit　tapped　him　on　the　shoulder　and　asked　who　he　was。
　　Jake　hadn't　seen　her　ing；　and　for　a　moment　his　mind　froze。　Without　thinking　about　what　he　was　doing；　he　reached　into　his　pocket　and　closed　his　hand　around　the　silver　key。　His　mind　cleared　immediately；　and　he　felt　calm　again。
　　〃My　group　is　upstairs；〃　he　said；　smiling　guiltily。　〃We're　supposed　to　be　looking　at　a　bunch　of　modern　art；　but　I　like　the　stuff　down　here　a　lot　better；　because　they're　real　pictures。　So　I　sort　of　。。。　you　know　。　。　。〃
　　〃Snuck　away？〃　the　teacher　suggested。　The　ers　of　her　lips　twitched　in　a　suppressed　smile。
　　〃Well；　I'd　rather　think　of　it　as　French　leave。〃　These　words　simply　popped　out　of　his　mouth。
　　The　students　now　staring　at　Jake　only　looked　puzzled；　but　this　time　the　teacher　actually　laughed。　〃Either　yon　don't　know　or　have　forgotten；〃　she　said；　〃but　in　the　French　Foreign　Legion　they　used　to　shoot　deserters。　I　suggest　you　rejoin　your　class　at　once；　young　man。〃
　　〃Yes；　ma'am。　Thank　you。　They'll　be　almost　done　now；　anyway。〃
　　〃What　school　is　it？〃
　　〃Markey　Academy；〃　Jake　said。　This　also　just　popped　out。
　　He　went　upstairs；　listening　to　the　disembodied　echo　of　foot…falls　and　low　voices　in　the　great　space　of　the　rotunda　and　wondering　why　he　had　said　that。　He　had　never　heard　of　a　place　called　Markey　Academy　in　his　life。
　　
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　　HE　WAITED　AWHILE　IN　the　upstairs　lobby；　then　noticed　a　guard　looking　at　him　with　growing　curiosity　and　decided　it　wouldn't　be　wise　to　wait　any　longer…he　would　just　have　to　hope　the　class　he　had　joined　briefly　was　gone。
　　He　looked　at　his　wristwatch；　put　an　expression　on　his　face　that　he　hoped　looked　like　Gosh！　Look　how　late　it's　getting！；　and　trotted　back　downstairs。　The　class…and　the　pretty　black　teacher　who　had　laughed　at　the　idea　of　French　leave…was　gone；　and　Jake　decided　it　might　be　a　good　idea　to　get　gone　himself。　He　would　walk　awhile　longer…slowly；　in　deference　to　the　heat…and　catch　a　subway。
　　He　stopped　at　a　hot…dog　stand　on　the　er　of　Broadway　and　Forty…second；　trading　in　a　little　of　his　meager　cash　supply　for　a　sweet　sausage　and　a　Nehi。　He　sat　on　the　steps　of　a　bank　building　to　eat　his　lunch；　and　that　turned　out　to　be　a　bad　mistake。
　　A　cop　came　walking　toward　him；　twirling　his　nightstick　in　a　plex　series　of　maneuvers。　He　seemed　to　be　paying　attention　to　nothing　but　this；　but　when　he　came　abreast　of　Jake　he　abruptly　shoved　his　stick　back　into　his　loop　and　turned　to　him。
　　〃Say…hey；　big　guy；〃　he　said。　〃No　school　today？〃
　　Jake　had　been　wolfing　his　sausage；　but　the　last　bite　abruptly　stuck　in　his　throat。　This　was　a　lousy　piece　of　luck　。。。　if　luck　was　all　it　was。　They　were　in　Times　Square；　sleaze　capital　of　America；　there　were　push…ers；　junkies；　whores；　and　chicken…chasers　everywhere　。　。。　but　this　cop　was　ignoring　them　in　favor　of　him。
　　Jake　swallowed　with　an　effort；　then　said；　〃It's　finals　week　at　my　school。　I　only　had　one　test　today。　Then　I　could　leave。〃　He　paused；　not　liking　the　bright；　searching　look　in　the　cop's　eyes。　〃I　had　permission；〃　he　concluded　uneasily。
　　〃Uh…huh。　Can　I　see　some　ID？〃
　　Juke's　heart　sank。　Had　his　mother　and　father　already　called　the　cops？　He　supposed　that；　after　yesterday's　adventure；　that　was　pretty　likely。　Under　ordinary　circumstances；　the　NYPD　wouldn't　take　much　notice　of　another　missing　kid；　especially　one　that　had　been　gone　only　half　a　day；　but　his　father　was　a　big　deal　at　the　Network；　and　he　prided　himself　on　the　number　of　strings　he　could　pull。　Jake　doubted　if　this　cop　had　his　picture　。　。　。　but　he　might　very　well　have　his　name。
　　〃Well；〃　Jake　said　reluctantly；　〃I've　got　my　student　discount　card　from　Mid…World　Lanes；　but　that's　about　all。〃
　　〃Mid…World　Lanes？　Never　heard　of　it。　Where's　that？　Queens？〃
　　〃Mid…Town；　I　mean；〃　Jake　thought。　God；　this　was　going　north　instead　of　south　。　。　。　and　fast。　〃You　know？　On　Thirty…third？〃
　　〃Uh…huh。　That'll　do　fine。〃　The　cop　held　out　his　hand。
　　A　black　man　with　dreadlocks　spilling　over　the　shoulders　of　his　canary…yellow　suit　glanced　over。　〃Bussim；　ossifer！〃　this　apparition　said　cheerfully。　〃Bussiz　lil　whitebread　ass！　Do　yo　duty；　now！〃
　　〃Shut　up　and　get　in　the　wind；　Eli；〃　the　cop　said　without　looking　around。
　　Eli　laughed；　exposing　several　gold　teeth；　and　moved　along。
　　〃Why　don't　you　ask　him　for　some　ID？〃　Jake　asked。
　　〃Because　right　now　I'm　asking　you。　Snap　it　up；　son。〃
　　The　cop　either　had　his　name　or　had　sensed　something　wrong　about　him…which　wasn't　so　surprising；　maybe；　since　he　was　the　only　white　in　the　area　who　wasn't　obviously　trolling。　Either　way；　it　came　to　the　same：　sitting　down　here　to　eat　his　lunch　had　been　dumb。　But　his　feet　had　hurt；　and　he'd　been　hungry；　dammit…hungry。
　　You're　not　going　to　stop　me；　Jake　thought。　/　can't　let　you　stop　me。　There's　someone　I'm　supposed　to　meet　this　afternoon　in　Brooklyn　。　。　。　and　I'm　going　to　be　there。
　　Instead　of　reaching　for　his　wallet；　he　reached　into　his　front　pocket　and　brought　out　the　key。　He　held　it　up　to　the　policeman；　the　late…morning　sunshine　bounced　little　coins　of　reflected　light　onto　the　man's　cheeks　and　forehead。　His　eyes　widened。
　　〃Heyy！〃　he　breathed。　〃What　you　got　there；　kid？〃
　　He　reached　for　it；　and　Jake　pulled　the　key　back　a　little。　The　reflected　circles　of　light　danced　hypnotically　on　the　cop's　face。　〃You　don't　need　to　take　it；〃　Jake　said。　〃You　can　read　my　name　without　doing　that；　can't　you？〃
　　〃Yes；　sure。〃
　　The　curiosity　had　left　the　cop's　face。　He　looked　only　at　the　key。　His　gaze　was　wide　and　fixed；　but　not　quite　empty。　Jake　read　both　amazement　and　unexpected　happiness　in　his　look。　That's　me；　Jake　thought；　just　spread…ing　joy　and　goodwill　wherever　I　go。　The　question　is；　what　do　I　do　now？
　　A　young　woman　（probably　not　u　librarian；　judging　from　the　green　silk　hotpants　and　see…through　blouse　she　was　wearing）　came　wiggle…wob…bling　up　the　sidewalk　on　a　pair　of　purple　fuck…me　shoes　with　three…inch　heels。　She　glanced　first　at　the　cop；　then　at　Jake　to　see　what　the　cop　was　looking　at。　When　she　got　a　good　look；　she　stopped　cold。　One　of　her　hands　drifted　up　and　touched　her　throat。　A　man　bumped　into　her　and　told　her　to　watch　where　the　damn…hell　she　was　going。　The　young　woman　who　was　probably　not　a　librarian　took　no　notice　whatever。　Now　Jake　saw　that　four　or　five　other　people　had　stopped　as　well。　All　were　staring　at　the　key。　They　were　gathering　as　people　sometimes　will　around　a　very　good　three…card…monte　dealer　plying　his　trade　on　a　streetcorner。
　　You're　doing　a　great　job　of　being　inconspicuous；　he　thought。　Oh　yeah。　He　glanced　over　the　cop's　shoulder；　and　his　eye　caught　a　sign　on　the　far　side　of　the　street。　Denby's　Discount　Drug；　it　said。
　　〃My　name's　Tom　Denby；〃　he　told　the　cop。　〃It　says　so　right　here　on　my　discount　bowling　card…right？〃
　　〃Right；　right；〃　the　cop　breathed。　He　had　lost　all　interest　in　Jake；　he　was　only　interested　in　the　key。　The　little　coins　of　reflected　light　bounced　and　spun　on　his　face。
　　〃And　you're　not　looking　for　anybody　named　Tom　Denby；　are　you？〃
　　〃No；〃　the　cop　said。　〃Never　heard　of　him。〃
　　Now　there　were　at　least　half　a　dozen　people　gathered　around　the　cop；　all　of　them　staring　with　silent　wonder　at　the　silver　key　in　Jake's　hand。
　　〃So　I　can　go；　can't　I？〃
　　〃Huh？　Oh！　Oh；　sure…go；　for　your　father's　sake！〃
　　〃Thanks；〃　Jake　said；　but　for　a　moment　he　wasn't　sure　how　to　go。　He　was　hemmed　in　by　a　silent　crowd　of　zombies；　and　more　were　joining　it　all　the　time。　They　were　only　ing　to　see　what　the　deal　was；　he　realized；　but　the　ones　who　saw　the　key　just　stopped　dead　and　stared。
　　He　got　to　his　feet　and　backed　slowly　up　the　wide　bank　steps；　holding　the　key　out　in　front　of　him　like　a　lion…tamer　with　a　chair。　When　he　got　to　the　wide　concrete　plaza　at　the　top；　he　stuffed　it　back　into　his　pants　pockets；　turned；　and　fled。