sk.theshining-第41部分

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s　grotesque。
　　（You　weren't　hired　to　philosophize；　Torrance。）　Ah；　that　was　true。　So　true。　He　clipped　along　the　rabbit's　ears；　brushing　a　small　litter　of　sticks　and　twigs　off　onto　the　grass。　The　hedge…clipper　hummed　in　that　low　and　rather　disgustingly　metallic　way　that　all　battery…powered　appliances　seem　to　have。　The　sun　was　brilliant　but　it　held　no　warmth；　and　now　it　wasn't　so　hard　to　believe　that　snow　was　ing。
　　Working　quickly；　knowing　that　to　stop　and　think　when　you　were　at　this　kind　of　a　task　usually　meant　making　a　mistake；　Jack　touched　up　the　rabbit's　〃face〃　（up　this　close　it　didn't　look　like　a　face　at　all；　but　he　knew　that　at　a　distance　of　twenty　paces　or　so　light　and　shadow　would　seem　to　suggest　one；　that；　and　the　viewer's　imagination）　and　then　zipped　the　clippers　along　its　belly。
　　That　done；　he　shut　the　clippers　off；　walked　down　toward　the　playground；　and　then　turned　back　abruptly　to　get　it　all　at　once；　the　entire　rabbit。　Yes；　it　looked　all　right。　Well；　he　would　do　the　dog　next。
　　〃But　if　it　was　my　hotel；〃　he　said；　〃I'd　cut　the　whole　damn　bunch　of　you　down。〃　He　would；　too。　Just　cut　them　down　and　resod　the　lawn　where　they'd　been　and　put　in　half　a　dozen　small　metal　tables　with　gaily　colored　umbrellas。　People　could　have　cocktails　on　the　Overlook's　lawn　in　the　summer　sun。　Sloe　gin　fizzes　and　margaritas　and　pink　ladies　and　all　those　sweet　tourist　drinks。　A　rum　and　tonic；　maybe。　Jack　took　his　handkerchief　out　of　his　back　pocket　and　slowly　rubbed　his　lips　with　it。
　　〃e　on；　e　on；〃　he　said　softly。　That　was　nothing　to　be　thinking　about。
　　He　was　going　to　start　back；　and　then　some　impulse　made　him　change　his　mind　and　he　went　down　to　the　playground　instead。　It　was　funny　how　you　never　knew　kids；　he　thought。　He　and　Wendy　had　expected　Danny　would　love　the　playground；　it　had　everything　a　kid　could　want。　But　Jack　didn't　think　the　boy　had　been　down　half　a　dozen　times；　if　that。　He　supposed　if　there　had　been　another　kid　to　play　with；　it　would　have　been　different。
　　The　gate　squeaked　slightly　as　he　let　himself　in；　and　then　there　was　crushed　gravel　crunching　under　his　feet。　He　went　first　to　the　playhouse；　the　perfect　scale　model　of　the　Overlook　itself。　It　came　up　to　his　lower　thigh；　just　about　Danny's　height　when　he　was　standing　up。　Jack　hunkered　down　and　looked　in　the　third…floor　windows。
　　〃The　giant　has　e　to　eat　you　all　up　in　your　beds；〃　he　said　hollowly。　〃Kiss　your　Triple　A　rating　goodbye。〃　But　that　wasn't　funny；　either。　You　could　open　the　house　simply　by　pulling　it　apart…it　opened　on　a　hidden　hinge。　The　inside　was　a　disappointment。　The　walls　were　painted；　but　the　place　was　mostly　hollow。　But　of　course　it　would　have　to　be；　he　told　himself；　or　how　else　could　the　kids　get　inside？　What　play　furniture　might　go　with　the　place　in　the　summer　was　gone；　probably　packed　away　in　the　equipment　shed。　He　closed　it　up　and　heard　the　small　click　as　the　latch　closed。
　　He　walked　over　to　the　slide；　set　the　hedge…clipper　down；　and　after　a　glance　back　at　the　driveway　to　make　sure　Wendy　and　Danny　hadn't　returned；　he　climbed　to　the　top　and　sat　down。　This　was　the　big　kids'　slide；　but　the　fit　was　still　unfortably　tight　for　his　grownup　ass。　How　long　had　it　been　since　he　had　been　on　a　slide？　Twenty　years？　It　didn't　seem　possible　it　could　be　that　long；　it　didn't　feel　that　long；　but　it　had　to　be　that；　or　more。　He　could　remember　his　old　man　taking　him　to　the　park　in　Berlin　when　he　had　been　Danny's　age；　and　he　had　done　the　whole　bit…slide；　swings；　teeter…totters；　everything。　He　and　the　old　man　would　have　a　hotdog　lunch　and　buy　peanuts　from　the　man　with　the　cart　afterward。
　　They　would　sit　on　a　bench　to　eat　them　and　dusky　clouds　of　pigeons　would　flock　around　their　feet。
　　〃Goddam　scavenger　birds；〃　his　dad　would　say；　〃don't　you　feed　them；　Jacky。〃　But　they　would　both　end　up　feeding　them；　and　giggling　at　the　way　they　ran　after　the　nuts；　the　greedy　way　they　ran　after　the　nuts。　Jack　didn't　think　the　old　man　had　ever　taken　his　brothers　to　the　park。　Jack　had　been　his　favorite；　and　even　so　Jack　had　taken　his　lumps　when　the　old　man　was　drunk；　which　was　a　lot　of　the　time。　But　Jack　had　loved　him　for　as　long　as　he　was　able；　long　after　the　rest　of　the　family　could　only　hate　and　fear　him。
　　He　pushed　off　with　his　hands　and　went　to　the　bottom；　but　the　trip　was　unsatisfying。　The　slide；　unused；　had　too　much　friction　and　no　really　pleasant　speed　could　be　built　up。　And　his　ass　was　just　too　big。　His　adult　feet　thumped　into　the　slight　dip　where　thousands　of　children's　feet　had　landed　before　him。　He　stood　up；　brushed　at　the　seat　of　his　pants；　and　looked　at　the　hedge…clipper。　But　instead　of　going　back　to　it　he　went　to　the　swings；　which　were　also　a　disappointment。　The　chains　had　built　up　rust　since　the　close　of　the　season；　and　they　squealed　like　things　in　pain。　Jack　promised　himself　he　would　oil　them　in　the　spring。
　　You　better　stop　it；　he　advised　himself。　You're　not　a　kid　anymore。　You　don't　need　this　place　to　prove　it。
　　But　he　went　on　to　the　cement　rings…they　were　too　small　for　him　and　he　passed　them　up…and　then　to　the　security　fence　which　marked　the　edge　of　the　grounds。　He　curled　his　fingers　through　the　links　and　looked　through；　the　sun　crosshatching　shadow…lines　on　his　face　like　a　man　behind　bars。　He　recognized　the　similarity　himself　and　he　shook　the　chain　link；　put　a　harried　expression　on　his　face；　and　whispered：　〃Lemme　outta　here！　Lemme　outta　here！〃　But　for　the　third　time；　not　funny。　It　was　time　to　get　back　to　work。
　　That　was　when　he　heard　the　sound　behind　him。
　　He　turned　around　quickly；　frowning；　embarrassed；　wondering　if　someone　had　seen　him　fooling　around　down　here　in　kiddie　country。　His　eyes　ticked　off　the　slides；　the　opposing　angles　of　the　seesaws；　the　swings　in　which　only　the　wind　sat。
　　Beyond　all　that　to　the　gate　and　the　low　fence　that　divided　the　playground　from　the　lawn　and　the　topiary…the　lions　gathered　protectively　around　the　path；　the　rabbit　bent　over　as　if　to　crop　grass；　the　buffalo　ready　to　charge；　the　crouching　dog。　Beyond　them；　the　putting　green　and　the　hotel　itself。　From　here　he　could　even　see　the　raised　lip　of　the　roque　court　on　the　Overlook's　western　side。
　　Everything　was　just　as　it　had　been。　So　why　had　the　flesh　of　his　face　and　hands　begun　to　creep；　and　why　bad　the　hair　along　the　back　of　his　neck　begun　to　stand　up；　as　if　the　flesh　back　there　had　suddenly　tightened？
　　He　squinted　up　at　the　hotel　again；　but　that　was　no　answer。　It　simply　stood　there；　its　windows　dark；　a　tiny　thread　of　smoke　curling　from　the　chimney；　ing　from　the　banked　fire　in　the　lobby。
　　（Buster；　you　better　get　going　or　they're　going　to　e　back　and　wonder　if　you　were　doing　anything　all　the　while。）　Sure；　get　going。　Because　the　snow　was　ing　and　he　had　to　get　the　damn　hedges　trimmed。　It　was　part　of　the　agreement。　Besides；　they　wouldn't　dare　（Who　wouldn't？　What　wouldn't？　Dare　do　what？）　He　began　to　walk　back　toward　the　hedge…clipper　at　the　foot　of　the　big　kids'　slide；　and　the　sound　of　his　feet　crunching　on　the　crushed　stone　seemed　abnormally　loud。　Now　the　flesh　on　his　testicles　had　begun　to　creep　too；　and　his　buttocks　felt　hard　and　heavy；　like　stone。
　　（Jesus；　what　is　this？）　He　stopped　by　the　hedge…clipper；　but　made　no　move　to　pick　it　up。　Yes；　there　was　something　different。　In　the　topiary。　And　it　was　so　simple；　so　easy　to　see；　that　he　just　wasn't　picking　it　up。　e　on；　he　scolded　himself；　you　just　trimmed　the　fucking　rabbit；　so　what's　the　（that's　it）　His　breath　stopped　in　his　throat。
　　The　rabbit　was　down　on　all　fours；　cropping　grass。　Its　belly　was　against　the　ground。　But　not　ten　minutes　ago　it　had　been　up　on　its　hind　legs；　of　course　it　had　been；　he　had　trimmed　its　ears　。　。　。　and　its　belly。
　　His　eyes　darted　to　the　dog。　When　he　had　e　down　the　path　it　had　been　sitting　up；　as　if　begging　for　a　sweet。　Now　it　was　crouched；　head　tilted；　the　clipped　wedge　of　mouth　seeming　to　snarl　silently。　And　the　lions…　（oh　no；　baby；　oh　no；　uh…uh；　no　way）　the　lions　were　closer　to　the　path。　The　two　on　his　right　had　subtly　changed　positions；　had　drawn　closer　together。　The　tail　of　the　one　on　the　left　now　almost　jutted　out　over　the　path。　When　he　had　e　past　them　and　through　the　gate；　that　lion　had　been　on　the　right　and　he　was　quite　sure　its　tail　had　been　curled　around　it。
　　They　were　no　longer　protecting　the　path；　they　were　blocking　it。
　　Jack　put　his　hand　suddenly　over　his　eyes　and　then　took　it　away。　The　picture　didn't　change。　A　soft　sigh；　too　quiet　to　be　a　groan；　escaped　him。　In　his　drinking　days　he　had　always　been　afraid　of　something　like　this　happening。　But　when　you　were　a　heavy　drinker　you　called　it　the　DTs…good　old　Ray　Milland　in　Lost　Weekend；　seeing　the　bugs　ing　out　of　the　walls。
　　What　did　you　call　it　when　you　were　cold　sober？
　　The　question　was　meant　to　be　rhetorical；　but　his　mind　answered　it　（you　call　it　insanity）　nevertheless。
　　Staring　at　the　hedge　animals；　he　realized　something　had　changed　while　he　had　his　hand　over　his　eyes。　The　dog　had　moved　closer。　No　longer　crouching；　it　seemed　to　be　in　a　running　posture；　haunches　flexed；　one　front　leg　forward；　the　other　back。　The　hedge　mouth　yawned　wider；　the　pruned　sticks　looked　sharp　and　vicious。
　　And　now　he　fancied　he　could　see　faint　eye　indentations　in　the　greenery　as　well。
　　Looking　at　him。
　　Why　do　they　have　to　be　trimmed？　he　thought　hysterically。　They're　perfect。
　　Another　soft　sound。　He　involuntarily　backed　up　a　step　when　he　looked　at　the　lions。　One　of　the　two　on　the　right　seemed　to　have　drawn　slightly　ahead　of　the　other。　Its　head　was　lowered。　One　paw　had　stolen　almost　all　the　way　to　the　low　fence。　Dear　God；　what　next？
　　（next　it　leaps　over　and　gobbles　you　up　like　something　in　an　evil　nursery　fable）　It　was　like　that　game　they　had　played　when　they　were　kids；　red　light。　One　person　was　〃it；〃　and　while　he　turned　his　back　and　counted　to　ten；　the　other　players　crept　forward。　When　〃it〃　got　to　ten；　he　whirled　around　and　if　he　caught　anyone　moving；　they　were　out　of　the　game。　The　others　remained　frozen　in　statue　postures　until　〃it〃　turned　his　back　and　counted　again。　They　got　closer　and　closer；　and　at　last；　somewhere　between　five　and　ten；　you　would　feel　a　hand　on　your　back。　。　。
　　Gravel　rattled　on　the　path。
　　He　jerked　his　head　around　to　look　at　the　dog　and　it　was　halfway　down　the　pathway；　jus