dclegg.purity-第7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！


eap　souvenir　someone　lost。　No　one　believes　in　gods。〃
　But　still；　the　itchy　thought　touched　him　somewhere　between　his　eyes　and　scalp　…　he　could　practically　feel　the　fire　crawling　on　him。
　But　if　you're　not。
　If　you're　real。
　I'll　do　what　needs　to　be　done。
　5
　Mrs。　M；　in　her　own　words：
　Here's　what　I　thought　of　it　all：　my　daughter　Jenna　had　been　trouble　from　the　day　she　was　born。　She　was　pretty　and　plain　at　the　same　time；　and　I　say　that　as　a　loving　mother。　She　inherited　her　father's　face；　not　much　of　mine；　although　I　guess　she　got　my　eyes。　Lucky　her　…　my　least　favorite　feature　since　my　own　mother　always　told　me　I　had　sad　eyes。　When　Jenna　was　four　years　old；　she　told　me　that　no　man　was　going　to　do　to　her　what　her　Daddy　did　to　me。
　Definitely　wise　beyond　her　years；　but　just　not　special　enough　to　handle　what　life　would　deliver　to　her；　that's　for　damn　sure。
　It　was　her　trust　fund。　It　made　her　trouble。
　Look；　there's　something　that　everyone　pussyfoots　around　but　no　one　ever　talks　about。　That's　money。　Pure　and　simple。　Money。　When　a　girl　has　some；　she　can　be　elevated　to　the　status　of　goddess。　The　most　ordinary　…　even　homely　…　creature　can　bee　ravishing　with　just　a　portfolio　or　a　trust　fund。
　That　island　…　in　summer　…　is　full　of　trust　fund　widows　who　should　by　all　rights　be　considered　blemishes；　but　instead　are　constantly　sought　out　for　parties　and　gatherings　and　literary　events。　For　Jenna；　there's　always　been　money。　And　I've　watched　it　feed　her　in　a　way　that　can't　be　healthy；　but　what　could　I　do？
　She　has　access　to　money。　Lots　of　money。　Money　clothes　her。
　She　was　ruined　because　of　it；　basically。　She　could　never　learn　how　to　survive。　She　could　never　learn　how　to　rely　on　herself　and　her　own　character　to　get　through　a　difficult　or　challenging　situation。
　She　could　always　buy　her　way　out　of　things。
　This　isn't　true　of　me。　I　was　raised　solidly　middle…class。　My　father　had　died　when　I　was　six；　and　my　mother　didn't　have　too　many　options；　not　back　then。　In　many　ways；　I　feel　for　Owen　because　of　this。　His　life　is　a　lot　like　mine　was　as　a　child。　Yes；　there　was　some　inheritance　later　for　me；　but　when　you　spend　most　of　your　childhood　wanting　things　you　never　really　get　over　it。
　And　money　bees　a　prison；　too。　When　you　know　what　it's　like　to　live　without　it；　and　when　it's　within　your　grasp；　then　you　know　what　it's　like　to　not　have　it。
　So；　you　cling　to　it。　Pure　and　simple。　You　hang　on　for　dear　life。
　I　suppose　people　will　say　things　about　my　marriage　to　Frank　that　reflect　this；　but　my　marriage　is　a　different　kettle　of　fish。　We've　got　our　way　of　living；　and　yes；　you　can　assail　it　all　you　want；　but　it　works　for　us　nine　times　out　of　ten；　and　those　times　when　it　doesn't　quite　work；　well；　we　have　places　to　go　where　he　can　live　his　life　and　I　can　live　mine；　and　the　breather　is　well…needed。　On　both　our　parts。
　I'm　not　the　easiest　woman　in　the　world　to　live　with。
　And　he's　no　saint。
　I　sat　down　with　my　little　girl　when　she　was　just　learning　about　sex；　and　I　told　her　that　men　have　different　ways　of　dealing　with　love；　and　usually　it's　through　the　one　part　of　their　body　that　seems　to　cause　others　the　most　damage。
　〃But　it's　just　his　body；〃　I　told　her。　She　cried　over　all　of　this。　She　cried　when　she　found　out　her　father　had　another　woman。　A　mistress。　But　you　have　to　cry　at　first；　don't　you？　To　get　all　those　little　fairy　tales　out　of　your　head　about　how　life　gets　lived；　about　how　there　are　a　few　good　men；　how　some　men　don't　cheat。
　And　it's　not　true。　All　men　cheat；　and　all　women　marry　cheaters；　and　to　not　look　at　that　square　in　the　face　is　like　not　looking　at　the　good　side　of　marriage；　too。
　So　she　cried　off　and　on　for　a　few　years；　and　I　held　her　sometimes；　I　was　cold　to　her　at　times　…　I　knew　she　needed　to　work　this　idea　out　in　her　mind。
　When　she　fell　in　love　for　the　first　time；　she　told　me　that　she　was　grateful　for　what　she'd　had　to　go　through　with　her　father。　〃I　don't　know　why　men　do　what　they　do；〃　she　told　me。
　〃If　you　did；　you'd　have　solved　the　greatest　mystery　of　life；〃　I　said　to　her。
　Or　something　like　that。
　But　for　my　money；　she　should've　avoided　that　Jimmy　McTeague。　He　was　bad　news。　I　know　every　little　deb　and　sorority　girl　east　of　the　Mississippi　thought　he　was　just　the　end　of　the　world；　but　they　were　such　goofy　little　virgins　it　was　hard　to　have　patience　with　them。
　Jimmy　McTeague　is　the　devil　incarnate。　I　know　that's　an　over…the…top　way　of　putting　it。　He　wasn't　evil；　but　he　was　cold。　I　knew　a　little　about　his　family；　and　none　of　it　was　very　good。　His　father　had　some　bad　business　deals　going；　and　even　if　he　had　all　the　stores；　Frank　told　me　some　things　that　alarmed　me。
　With　Jimmy；　I　felt　it　the　first　day　I　met　him；　which　was　sometime　before　summer。　Perhaps　some　Easter　break？　She　brought　him　by　the　house　in　Greenwich；　and　the　first　thing　out　of　his　mouth　was；　〃Hello　Catherine。　I've　heard　so　much　about　you；　I　almost　feel　like　we've　had　an　affair。〃
　He　thought　that　kind　of　thing　was　funny；　that　off…the…　cuff　jokiness。
　Within　minutes；　he'd　given　me　some　nick…　name；　which　of　course　he　had　to　repeat　five　or　ten　times　to　truly　annoy　me；　and　within　an　hour　of　chatting　with　him；　I　knew　more　about　that　boy　than　I　cared　to　know。
　He　is　dangerous。
　And　so　yes；　I　think　it　all　has　more　to　do　with　Jimmy　McTeague　than　with　anybody。　At　her　birthday　party　in　late　July；　he　told　me　that　he　thought　the　world　was　meant　to　be　owned　by　people　like　him。
　I　believe　those　were　his　exact　words。
　Yes；　he　had　money。　Yes；　he　was　extremely　good　looking　for　a　boy　his　age。
　Extremely。　Only　a　fool　wouldn't　notice　that。　But　he　had　no　spirit。　What　he　had　was　pure　badness。　He　was　absolutely　pure　in　his　badness。
　I　once　had　a　dog　like　that。　Beautiful。　pletely　bad。
　Jimmy　McTeague's　like　that。
　I　really　began　to　hate　that　boy　at　Jenna's　birthday　party。
　
　
　Chapter　Four
　The　birthday　party　
　1
　In　the　mirror；　Owen　bed　his　hair；　parting　it　a　bit　higher；　not　to　the　middle　of　his　forehead；　but　certainly　an　inch　higher　than　his　usual。　He　also　brushed　it　back　so　it　rose　a　bit　higher。　The　summer　blond…streaks　looked　better　this　way。　He　rubbed　some　gel　into　it；　and　made　sure　the　part　was　clean。　He　smiled　as　naturally　as　he　could。　No；　that　wasn't　right。　He　let　his　lips　pull　back　slightly。　He　squinted　his　eyes　the　way　that　Jimmy　did。　It　looked　rich　to　do　it。
　Like　the　sun　was　always　on　his　face；　even　on　a　cloudy　day。
　Then；　he　rubbed　some　of　his　mother's　Neutrogena　face　lotion　on　his　face。　It　brought　a　shine　to　his　cheeks　and　nose。　He　wasn't　sure　if　he　liked　it；　but　it　seemed　to　be　what　the　rich　boys　had。　That　shine。
　Hanging　on　the　bathroom　door：　the　crisp　J　Crew　shirt；　pale　blue；　the　tan　chinos。　He　dressed；　and　then　returned　to　his　bedroom　to　get　the　gift　he'd　wrapped　that　morning。
　〃You're　not　going　to　that　party；〃　his　mother　said；　glancing　at　his　father。
　Both　sat　in　the　small　living　room　in　the　dark；　the　television　providing　the　only　source　of　light。　Their　faces　flickered。　His　father　laughed。　〃Oh；　he'll　have　fun。
　The　kids　are　really　going　to　mix　it　up。〃
　〃Yeah。　It'll　be　fun。〃
　〃You're　not　one　of　them；〃　his　mother　said。　〃You　can　pretend。　You　always　pretend。〃　Then；　she　turned　to　his　father；　patting　his　shoulder。　〃Well？〃
　〃Leave　it　alone；　Boston；〃　his　father　said。　〃It's　the　kids'　party。　You　used　to　go　to　parties。〃
　〃What's　that　you've　got　there？〃　his　mother　asked。　She　got　up　from　the　couch；　setting　her　beer　down　on　the　coffee　table。　His　father　reached　over；　turning　on　the　standing　lamp。　Light　came　up。　His　mother　looked　gray；　despite　the　fact　that　she　colored　her　hair。　Even　her　skin　seemed　gray。　His　father　looked　like　a　wisp　of　smoke。　It　was　all　Owen　could　do　to　keep　them　from　vanishing　within　the　room。
　Owen　looked　down　at　the　box　in　his　hands。　〃It's　her　birthday。〃
　〃You　bought　her　something？〃　his　mother　asked；　a　grin　spreading　like　blood　on　her　face。　He　could　imagine　her　dead；　her　skull　cracked　open　like　an　egg。　〃You　bought　the　Montgomery　girl　something？　Working　for　tips　at　the　Salty　Dog　and　you　bought　the　richest　girl　in　the　world　something？〃　She　shook　her　head　gently。　〃Owen；　you're　always　trying　to　impress　someone　with　what　you　don't　have。〃　She　said　this　sweetly；　and　he　felt　a　twinge　of　love　for　her　then。
　He　almost　felt　bad　for　what　he'd　done。　He　almost　felt　bad　for　what　he'd　stolen　from　his　mother　to　put　in　the　box。
　He　almost　felt　bad　for　what　he　was　giving　Jenna。
　Almost。
　2
　The　party　was　in　full　swing　by　ten　at　night。　Every　Nancy；　every　Skip；　every　Jess　and　Sloan；　they　all　were　there；　poolside。　The　great　curtains　were　drawn　back；　and　the　glass　doors　had　been　removed　for　the　party。　White　tents　had　been　erected　along　the　yard；　lanterns　of　every　conceivable　hue　strung　along　the　walkway　to　the　Montgomery　place；　and　balloons　flew　with　some　regularity　from　the　back　acre。　The　smell　of　cigarettes　and　perfume　and　gin　and　beer　and　money　were　there；　too。
　Watching　it；　you'd　have　seen　nearly　fifty　teenagers　dancing；　laughing；　shouting；　a　tall　blond　girl　with　flowing　hair　and　limbs　soaked　from　having　been　thrown　into　the　swimming　pool；　the　fat　drunk　frat　boy　vomiting　over　by　the　birdbath；　half…a…dozen　homely　young　women　shining　under　the　spotlight　of　boy's　gazes　…　for　lust　and　money　and　breeding　and　privilege　all　attract　beyond　mere　looks。　The　Sound　sparkled　with　moonlight；　and　summer　was　at　its　peak；　the　sun　had　only　just　gone　down　an　hour　before；　and　the　smell　of　salt　sea　air　mingled　with　the　foam　of　mermaids'　souls；　lost　from　true　love。
　All　these　things　Owen　thought。
　3
　〃Did　you　see　Jimmy　at　the　nationals？　God；　I　hear　he's　going　to　be　at　Wimbledon　someday。　Soon。〃
　〃If　he's　at　Harvard　…〃
　〃When　he's　at　Harvard；　I'm　going　to　call　him　Jimmy　McTeague　of　the　Ivy　League。　Isn't　that　cute？〃
　〃I　think　what's　cute　is　his　father。　Have　you　ever　met　him？〃
　〃Well；　I've　been　in　the　store。〃
　〃Sports　superstores　never　interested　me。　It　seems　crass　to　sell　that　kind　of　thing。〃
　〃I　read　in　Forbes　that　his　dad　is　worth　several　billion。〃
　〃Dead　or　alive？〃
　〃Dead；　then　Jimmy's　worth　that。〃
　〃Jimmy　McTeague　is　shallow。　He　is。　He's　not　smart　either；〃　one　deb　said；　her　party　dress　ruined　because　someone　spilled　a　Bloody　Mary　down　the　front。　〃He's　pretty　but　he's　dumb。　And　my　uncle　went