jefflong.yearzero-第14部分

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　He　dug　wider　through　the　covering　of　snow　and　elbowed　his　way　to　sitting。　Blinking；　he　found　himself　in　a　netherworld　pitched　at　a　tilt　and　paved　with　leaden　snow。　The　sky　was　greasy。　There　was　no　color。　None。　Mountains　hulked　on　every　side。　Their　summits　ran　into　void。　The　light　was　so　flat　he　felt　blind。　His　watch　read　one。　It　was　after　noon　of　the　next　day。
　He　sat　there　with　his　arms　resting　on　top　of　the　ruptured　snow。　His　head　pounded。　His　throat　was　raw。　The　fingers　of　one　hand　were　fat　as　sausages。　He　tried　moving　his　leg　under　the　blanket　of　snow；　and　the　pain　nailed　him　flat。
　He　quit　testing　things。　He　began　weeping　for　himself。　Remembering　a　snapshot　of　Grace　in　his　shirt　pocket；　he　fumbled　inside　his　jacket。　Most　of　his　fingernails　had　pulled　away。　It　was　clumsy　work。　He　got　the　photo　from　his　pocket。
　Suddenly　the　world　took　on　color。　She　was　standing　in　a　field　of　yellow　sunflowers　and　wearing　tights　with　red　hearts。　The　sky　was　clear　blue。　The　day　came　flooding　back。
　He'd　asked　her　to　smile。　As　usual　Grace　had　chosen　grave　intensity。　Her　slate　blue　eyes　seemed　to　stare　right　through　the　lens。　There　was　no　mistaking　her　heart。
　Nathan　Lee　brought　the　picture　closer。　He　swiped　at　his　tears。　He　touched　her　face；　then　looked　down　at　himself。　Was　this　the　legacy　he　was　going　to　leave　his　daughter？　Half　buried；　baked　black；　a　jack…in…the…box　mummy。　All　because　he'd　quit？
　He　carefully　returned　the　photo　to　his　pocket；　then　began　chopping　himself　loose；　furious　at　his　self…pity。　One　handful　at　a　time；　he　excavated　himself。　It　took　two　hours　to　open　the　tomb　and　roll　himself　out。
　His　knee　had　swollen　to　the　size　of　his　thigh。　Nathan　Lee　started　crawling。　He　arranged　the　body　bag　under　his　bad　leg　as　a　sort　of　sled；　and　pulled　himself　along。
　Around　three；　Nathan　Lee　reached　flatter　terrain。　By　holding　the　knee　with　both　hands；　he　could　manage　a　sort　of　shuffle。
　He　found　the　gully　leading　down　to　camp　and　came　within　sight　of　the　yak　herders'　stone　windbreak。　He　armed　himself　with　a　rock　and　made　himself　resolute。　If　Ochs　threatened　him；　he　would　break　the　man's　leg。　Then　they　could　both　exit　as　cripples。　If　that　didn't　stop　him；　Nathan　Lee　was　ready　to　brain　the　bastard。
　He　reached　the　windbreak。　He　peered　over　the　wall。
　Their　blue　tent　was　gone。
　　
　IT　TOOK　HIMfive　days　to　cross　a　half…day　moraine。　Nathan　Lee　found　a　porter's　stick　among　the　boulders；　and　that　became　his　crutch。　Even　as　hunger　whittled　him　down；　his　knee　swelled　larger。　The　first　tide　of　monsoon　weather　receded；　and　the　snow　melted；　providing　him　thousands　of　rivulets　to　drink　from。　The　threads　of　glacier　water　braided　together　to　form　a　stream；　then　a　small　torrent。
　The　sterile；　bony　moraine　gave　way　to　a　valley　with　wildflowers。　He　covered　six　miles　in　three　days；　steadily　losing　altitude。　The　air　grew　rich。　Rhododendrons　glistened　among　pines。　He　sampled　the　green　leaves　and　strips　of　pine　meat。　It　made　him　sick。　He　filled　his　stomach　with　milky　glacier　water。　Despite　his　famine；　Nathan　Lee　felt　more　and　more　lucid。　That　was　a　bad　sign；　he　knew。　The　visionary's　conceit。
　On　the　next　day；　the　hermits'　cave　appeared　on　a　hillside。　It　was　empty；　of　course。　Ochs　had　looted　their　cache；　resting　and　gorging　on　their　food　before　heading　on。　The　one　thing　Ochs　had　not　taken　was　a　five…pound　sack　oftsampa。　Early　on；　he'd　declared　Rinchen's　roasted　barley　meal　inedible。　Mixed　with　water；　it　formed　a　sticky　brown　paste。　Nathan　Lee　took　it　like　a　sacrament。
　One　more　pass　loomed。　Shipton　Pass　was　less　than　18；000　feet　high；　but　Nathan　Lee　was　weak　and　his　head　ached　all　the　time。　It　took　a　week　to　climb　through　the　cold　fog；　another　week　to　descend。　He　could　judge　the　altitude　when　the　leeches　began　bleeding　him。Hirudinea　suvanjieff　did　not　live　above　7500　feet。　They　would　reach　out　from　the　leaves　and　branches　like　slick　black　fingers。　Every　half　hour　he　would　scrape　them　from　his　ankles　and　arms　and　eat　a　few；　tasting　his　own　blood。
　On　the　last　day　of　July；　he　reached　a　chain　footbridge　swaying　over　the　raging　Arun　River。　Makalu　was　the　headwaters　of　the　Arun。　The　beginning　was　the　end。
　He　came　to　a　village　called　Khandbari。　The　street　was　vacant。　It　turned　out　they　were　busy　killing　a　rabid　dog；　which　was　done　by　setting　out　big　leaves　with　poisoned　rice　and　then　everyone　waiting　indoors。　As　he　limped　through　the　middle　of　the　village；　people　came　to　their　windows。　There　was　no　question　he　made　a　strange　sight　with　his　beard　and　wood　crutch　and　rain　jacket　made　of　a　body　bag。　Nathan　Lee　was　so　starved　he　picked　up　one　of　the　leaves　of　rice；　but　they　cried　out　to　him。
　He　sat　on　a　bench　in　front　of　a　small　schoolhouse。　After　a　while；　two　policemen　in　brown　uniforms　and　Nikes　approached。　The　younger　man　looked　frightened。　At　first；　Nathan　Lee　thought　he　was　scared　of　the　lurking　dog。　Then　he　realized　he　was　the　source　of　the　man's　fear。
　The　older　policeman　was　armed　with　a　small　bamboo　baton　tucked　under　one　arm。　〃Please　show　me　your　passport；　sir；〃　he　said。
　〃Gone；〃　rasped　Nathan　Lee。
　〃Are　you　the　gentleman；　then；　from　Makalu？〃
　They　knew　him。　Suddenly　the　last　of　his　strength　drained　away。　Ochs　had　e　through　here；　of　course。　He　had　started　weaving　his　cover　story；　and　it　was　clearly　one　of　his　own　survival　from　great　violence　and　deception。　Nathan　Lee　was　too　tired　to　try　to　repair　the　damage。　〃May　I　have　somechai；　please？〃　he　asked。
　The　interview　was　interrupted　while　the　younger　policeman　scampered　off　for　tea。　It　took　several　minutes。　While　he　was　gone；　Nathan　Lee　asked；　〃What　happens　now？〃
　The　officer　said；　〃Everything　will　be　fine；　sir。〃
　The　young　policeman　returned　with　a　thick　glass　of　milk　tea　dosed　with　sugar。　In　his　other　hand　was　an　ancient　set　of　shackles。
　Nathan　Lee　accepted　the　tea。　He　calmly　watched　them　cuff　his　good　ankle。　None　of　this　seemed　real。　None　of　it。　He　had　a　daughter　back　home。　He　was　not　a　bad　man。　They　would　straighten　matters　out。Everything　will　be　fine。
　Out　of　kindness；　they　didn't　shackle　his　swollen　leg。　The　chain　and　extra　cuff　lay　on　the　ground；　unnecessary。　It　was　plain　for　all　to　see　that　the　beast　had　been　captured。
　4
　Sunday
　KERKYRA；CORFU
　After　mass；　the　faithful　milled　in　the　square；　chatting　with　their　neighbors；　enjoying　their　last　quiet　hour　before　the　tourists　arrived。　Easter　was　over。　The　mummified　body　of　the　island's　saint　had　been　paraded　through　the　streets　and　returned　to　his　church。　In　the　town　museum；　a　2；600…year…old　statue　of　the　Gorgon　Medusa　with　serpents　for　hair　had　been　dusted　off。　The　money　season　was　about　to　begin。
　In　forty　minutes　the　ferry　from　Italy　would　arrive　at　the　New　Port。　The　first　of　hordes　of　pasty　white　British　and　Germans　would　descend　into　their　midst。　Before　the　summer　was　out；　the　visitors　would　number　tens　of　thousands；　some　on　their　way　to　other　islands；　many　just　planting　themselves　on　Corfu's　beaches。　All　had　to　pass　through　the　island's　capital。　The　town　was　ready。　Therembetis　had　tuned　their　bouzoukis　and　electric　guitars。　Cafes　and　bars　were　well　stocked。　The　prostitutes　and　taxi　drivers　and　hotel　keepers　could　not　wait。
　It　was　a　pretty　morning。　The　sun　was　warm；　the　sea　blue。　The　hills　above　town　were　bright　green　with　basil　and　rosemary　and　thyme　and　oregano　seedlings。　Drugged　with　sun；　sleepy　cats　watched　from　windows　and　flower　boxes。
　Suddenly　there　was　a　shout　from　up　the　narrow　street；　then　another；　a　bark　of　outrage。　〃Slow　down；　fool；〃　someone　yelled。
　A　wild…eyed　young　man　came　careening　down　the　winding　lane；　scarcely　able　to　control　his　bicycle。　A　big　fisherman　reached　out　and　caught　him　before　he　ran　into　the　Sunday　crowd。　The　bike　struck　a　wall。　He　dropped　the　young　man　onto　his　seat　on　the　cobbles。
　〃Ah；　it's　only　Spyros；〃　people　said。　Half　the　men　on　Corfu　were　named　Spyros　after　their　saint；　the　mummy　Spyridon。　But　something　in　the　inflection　distinguished　this　one。　He　was　Spyros　the　simpleton；　a　laborer　on　a　farm。
　〃Madonna；　Madonna。〃　Tears　poured　down　his　face。　He　was　dressed　in　coarse；　patched　trousers　and　a　faded　Rolling　Stones　T…shirt。
　〃What　is　it　this　time；　Spyros？〃
　Spyros　scrambled　to　his　feet。　He　began　shouting　about　an　apparition。
　〃Hush；〃　a　woman　said；　〃you'll　scare　the　children。〃
　But　he　went　on。　An　angel　had　appeared　to　him　in　the　hills　above　town。　〃The　Virgin　herself。〃
　A　local　tough　strutted　up。　He　shoved　Spyros。　〃Don't　be　sacrilegious；〃　he　said。
　The　big　fisherman　pushed　the　tough　away。　〃Leave　him　alone。　He's　simple；〃　he　said。
　〃Then　shut　him　up。　He'll　drive　the　tourists　away。〃
　〃She　is　ing；〃　said　Spyros。　He　cast　fearful　glances　up　the　street。　Others　looked　and　saw　nothing。
　Someone　threw　a　small　stone　at　him　as　if　driving　away　a　dog。　Another　stone　followed。　People　clucked　or　hissed　or　spit。
　〃She　es　from　heaven；〃　said　the　young　man。
　〃Go　back　to　your　goats；　Spyros。〃
　〃I　never　trusted　his　family；〃　a　man　said。　〃Look　at　those　blue　eyes。　He　es　from　the　Turks。〃
　Only　slowly　did　they　bee　aware　of　her。　She　appeared　from　the　lane's　deep　shadows　and　descended　into　view。　Perhaps　she　had　followed　the　simpleton　downhill。　Perhaps　she　was　drawn　by　the　church　bells。　Maybe　she　had　simply　obeyed　gravity　on　her　trek　to　the　sea。
　〃Dear　Christ　in　Heaven；〃　someone　whispered。
　She　moved　on　two　legs；　but　did　not　look　human。　Naked　as　a　ghost；　she　seemed　made　of　glass。　From　a　distance；　as　they　squinted　into　the　shadows；　her　body　seemed　to　flicker　in　and　out　of　reality。　She　drew　nearer；　but　haltingly；　with　the　pace　of　a　sleepwalker。
　As　she　passed；　Spyros　put　his　hands　to　his　head　and　cowered　against　the　wall。　The　fisherman　stared　in　disbelief；　then　took　off　his　cap　uncertainly。　He　crossed　himself。　She　swayed　past　them　without　a　glance。
　〃What　is　this？〃　someone　murmured。　The　square　opened　to　her。　The　crowd　pressed　back　against　the　buildings。Who　could　she　be？　Where　did　she　e　from？
　She　entered　the　sunlight　and　became　even　more　fantastic。　For　her　skin　was　nearly　transparent。　Her　veins　showed　clearly。　Backlit　by　the　sun；　her　organs　were　a　silhouetted　mass。　One　could　see　the　limned　bones。
　And　yet　she　was　not　a　gruesome　sight。　Quite　the　opposite。　Despite　her　condition；　the　woman's　beauty　was　evident。　Her　hair　was　long。　Except　for　the　transparent　root