sk.theshining-第69部分

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　raised　it　to　his　lips；　and　hesitated。　He　heard　the　hard；　horrible　snap　as　Danny's　arm　broke。　He　saw　the　bicycle　flying　brokenly　up　over　the　hood　of　Al's　car；　starring　the　windshield。　He　saw　a　single　wheel　lying　in　the　road；　twisted　spokes　pointing　into　the　sky　like　jags　of　piano　wire。
　　He　became　aware　that　all　conversation　had　stopped。
　　He　looked　back　over　his　shoulder。　They　were　all　looking　at　him　expectantly；　silently。　The　man　beside　the　woman　in　the　sarong　had　removed　his　foxhead　and　Jack　saw　that　it　was　Horace　Derwent；　his　pallid　blond　hair　spilling　across　his　forehead。　Everyone　at　the　bar　was　watching；　too。　The　woman　beside　him　was　looking　at　him　closely；　as　if　trying　to　focus。　Her　dress　had　slipped　off　one　shoulder　and　looking　down　he　could　see　a　loosely　puckered　nipple　capping　one　sagging　breast。　Looking　back　at　her　face　he　began　to　think　that　this　might　be　the　woman　from　217；　the　one　who　had　tried　to　strangle　Danny。　On　his　other　hand；　the　man　in　the　sharp　blue　suit　had　removed　a　small　pearl…handled　。32　from　his　jacket　pocket　and　was　idly　spinning　it　on　the　bar；　like　a　man　with　Russian　roulette　on　his　mind。
　　（I　want…）　He　realized　the　words　were　not　passing　through　his　frozen　vocal　cords　and　tried　again。
　　〃I　want　to　see　the　manager。　I　。　。　。　I　don't　think　he　understands。　My　son　is　not　a　part　of　this。　He　。　。　。_〃
　　〃Mr。　Torrance；〃　Lloyd　said；　his　voice　ing　with　hideous　gentleness　from　inside　his　plague…raddled　face；　〃you　will　meet　the　manager　in　due　time。　He　has；　in　fact；　decided　to　make　you　his　agent　in　this　matter。　Now　drink　your　drink。〃
　　〃Drink　your　drink；〃　they　all　echoed。
　　He　picked　it　up　with　a　badly　trembling　hand。　It　was　raw　gin。　He　looked　into　it；　and　looking　was　like　drowning。
　　The　woman　beside　him　began　to　sing　in　a　flat；　dead　voice：　〃Roll　。　。　。　out　。　。
　　。　the　barrel　。　。　。　and　we'll　have　；　。　。　a　barrel　。　。　。　of　fun。　。　。〃　Lloyd　picked　it　up。　Then　the　man　in　the　blue　suit。　The　dog…man　joined　in；　thumping　one　paw　against　the　table
　　〃Now's　the　time　to　roll　the　barrel…〃　Derwent　added　his　voice　to　the　rest。　A　cigarette　was　cocked　in　one　corner　of　his　mouth　at　a　jaunty　angle。　His　right　arm　was　around　the　shoulders　of　the　woman　in　the　sarong；　and　his　right　band　was　gently　and　absently　stroking　her　right　breast。　He　was　looking　at　the　dog…man　with　amused　contempt　as　he　sang。
　　〃…because　the　gang's　。　。　。　all　。　。　。　here！〃　Jack　brought　the　drink　to　his　mouth　and　downed　it　in　three　long　gulps；　the　gin　highballing　down　his　throat　like　a　moving　van　in　a　tunnel；　exploding　in　his　stomach；　rebounding　up　to　his　brain　in　one　leap　where　it　seized　hold　of　him　with　a　final　convulsing　fit　of　the　shakes。
　　When　that　passed　off；　he　felt　fine。
　　〃Do　it　again；　please；〃　he　said；　and　pushed　the　empty　glass　toward　Lloyd。
　　〃Yes；　sir；〃　Lloyd　said；　taking　the　glass。　Lloyd　looked　perfectly　normal　again。
　　The　olive…skinned　man　had　put　his　。32　away。　The　woman　on　his　right　was　staring　into　her　singapore　sling　again。　One　breast　was　wholly　exposed　now；　leaning　on　the　bar's　leather　buffer。　A　vacuous　crooning　noise　came　from　her　slack　mouth。
　　The　loom　of　conversation　had　begun　again；　weaving　and　weaving。
　　His　new　drink　appeared　in　front　of　him。
　　〃　Muchas　gracias；　Lloyd；〃　he　said；　picking　it　up。
　　〃Always　a　pleasure　to　serve　you；　Mr。　Torrance。〃　Lloyd　smiled。
　　〃You　were　always　the　best　of　them；　Lloyd。〃
　　〃Why；　thank　you；　sir。〃　He　drank　slowly　this　time；　letting　it　trickle　down　his　throat；　tossing　a　few　peanuts　down　the　chute　for　good　luck。
　　The　drink　was　gone　in　no　time；　and　he　ordered　another。　Mr。　President；　I　have　met　the　martians　and　am　pleased　to　report　they　are　friendly。　While　Lloyd　fixed　another；　he　began　searching　his　pockets　for　a　quarter　to　put　in　the　jukebox。　He　thought　of　Danny　again；　but　Danny's　face　was　pleasantly　fuzzed　and　nondescript　now。　He　had　hurt　Danny　once；　but　that　had　been　before　he　had　learned　how　to　handle　his　liquor。　Those　days　were　behind　him　now。　He　would　never　hurt　Danny　again。
　　Not　for　the　world。
　　　
　　　》
　　CONVERSATIONS　AT　THE　PARTY
　　
　　He　was　dancing　with　a　beautiful　woman。
　　He　had　no　idea　what　time　it　was；　how　long　he　had　spent　in　the　Colorado　Lounge　or　how　long　he　had　been　here　in　the　ballroom。　Time　had　ceased　to　matter。
　　He　had　vague　memories：　listening　to　a　man　who　had　once　been　a　successful　radio　ic　and　then　a　variety　star　in　TV'；　infant　days　telling　a　very　long　and　very　hilarious　joke　about　incest　between　Siamese　twins；　seeing　the　woman　in　the　harem　pants　and　the　sequined　bra　do　a　slow　and　sinuous　striptease　to　some　bumping…and…　grinding　music　from　the　jukebox　（it　seemed　it　had　been　David　Rose's　theme　music　from　The　Stripper）；　crossing　the　lobby　as　one　of　three；　the　other　two　men　in　evening　dress　that　predated　the　twenties；　all　of　them　singing　about　the　stiff　patch　on　Rosie　O'Grady's　knickers。　He　seemed　to　remember　looking　out　the　big　double　doors　and　seeing　Japanese　lanterns　strung　in　graceful；　curving　arcs　that　followed　the　sweep　of　the　driveway…they　gleamed　in　soft　pastel　colors　like　dusky　jewels。　The　big　glass　globe　on　the　porch　ceiling　was　on；　and　night…insects　bumped　and　flittered　against　it；　and　a　part　of　him；　perhaps　the　last　tiny　spark　of　sobriety；　tried　to　tell　him　that　it　was　6　A。M。　on　a　morning　in　December。　But　time　had　been　canceled。
　　（The　arguments　against　insanity　fall　through　with　a　soft　shurring　sound/layer　on　layer　。　。　。）　Who　was　that？　Some　poet　he　had　read　as　an　undergraduate？　Some　undergraduate　poet　who　was　now　selling　washers　in　Wausau　or　insurance　in　Indianapolis？　Perhaps　an　original　thought？　Didn't　matter。
　　（The　night　is　dark/　the　stars　are　high/　a　disembodied　custard　piel　is　floating　in　the　sky　。　。　。）　He　giggled　helplessly。
　　〃What's　funny；　honey？〃　And　here　he　was　again；　in　the　ballroom。　The　chandelier　was　lit　and　couples　were　circling　all　around　them；　some　in　costume　and　some　not；　to　the　smooth　sounds　of　some　postwar　band…but　which　war？　Can　you　be　certain？
　　No；　of　course　not。　He　was　certain　of　only　one　thing：　he　was　dancing　with　a　beautiful　woman。
　　She　was　tall　and　auburn…haired；　dressed　in　clinging　white　satin；　and　she　was　dancing　close　to　him；　her　breasts　pressed　softly　and　sweetly　against　his　chest。
　　Her　white　hand　was　entwined　in　his。　She　was　wearing　a　small　and　sparkly　cat's…　eye　mask　and　her　hair　had　been　brushed　over　to　one　side　in　a　soft　and　gleaming　fall　that　seemed　to　pool　in　the　valley　between　their　touching　shoulders。　Her　dress　was　full…skirted　but　be　could　feel　her　thighs　against　his　legs　from　time　to　time　and　had　bee　more　and　more　sure　that　she　was　smoothand…powdered　naked　under　her　dress；　（the　better　to　feet　your　erection　with；　my　dear）　and　he　was　sporting　a　regular　railspike。　If　it　offended　her　she　concealed　it　well；　she　snuggled　even　closer　to　him。
　　〃Nothing　funny；　honey；〃　he　said；　and　giggled　again。
　　〃I　like　you；〃　she　whispered；　and　he　thought　that　her　scent　was　like　lilies；　secret　and　hidden　in　cracks　furred　with　green　moss…places　where　sunshine　is　short　and　shadows　long。
　　〃I　like　you；　too。〃
　　〃We　could　go　upstairs；　if　you　want。　I'm　supposed　to　be　with　Harry；　but　he'll　never　notice。　He's　too　busy　teasing　poor　Roger。〃　The　number　ended。　There　was　a　spatter　of　applause　and　then　the　band　swung　into
　　〃Mood　Indigo〃　with　scarcely　a　pause。
　　Jack　looked　over　her　bare　shoulder　and　saw　Derwent　standing　by　the　refreshment　table。　The　girl　in　the　sarong　was　with　him。　There　were　bottles　of　champagne　in　ice　buckets　ranged　along　the　white　lawn　covering　the　table；　and　Derwent　held　a　foaming　bottle　in　his　hand。　A　knot　of　people　had　gathered；　laughing。　In　front　of　Derwent　and　the　girl　in　the　sarong；　Roger　capered　grotesquely　on　all　fours；　his　tail　dragging　limply　behind　him。　He　was　barking。
　　〃Speak；　boy；　speak！〃　Harry　Derwent　cried。
　　〃Rowf！　Rowf！〃　Roger　responded。　Everyone　clapped；　a　few　of　the　men　whistled。
　　〃Now　sit　up。　Sit　up；　doggy！〃　Roger　clambered　up　on　his　haunches。　The　muzzle　of　his　mask　was　frozen　in　its　eternal　snarl。　Inside　the　eyeholes；　Roger's　eyes　rolled　with　frantic；　sweaty　hilarity。　He　held　his　arms　out；　dangling　the　paws。
　　〃Rowf！　Rowf！〃　Derwent　upended　the　bottle　of　champagne　and　it　fell　in　a　foamy　Niagara　onto　the　upturned　mask。　Roger　made　frantic　slurping　sounds；　and　everyone　applauded　again。　Some　of　the　women　screamed　with　laughter。
　　〃Isn't　Harry　a　card？〃　his　partner　asked　him；　pressing　close　again。　〃Everyone　says　so。　He's　AC/DC；　you　know。　Poor　Roger's　only　DC。　He　spent　a　weekend　with　Harry　in　Cuba　once　。　。　。　oh；　months　ago。　Now　he　follows　Harry　everywhere；　wagging　his　little　tail　behind　him。〃　She　giggled。　The　shy　scent　of　lilies　drifted　up。
　　〃But　of　course　Harry　never　goes　back　for　seconds　。　。　。　not　on　his　DC　side；　anyway　。　。　。　and　Roger　is　just　wild。　Harry　told　him　if　he　came　to　the　masked　ball　as　a　doggy；　a　cute　little　doggy；　he　might　reconsider；　and　Roger　is　such　a　silly　that　he　。　。　。〃　The　number　ended。　There　was　more　applause。　The　band　members　were　filing　down　for　a　break。
　　〃Excuse　me；　sweetness；〃　she　said。　〃There's　someone　I　just　roust　。　。　。　Darla！
　　Darla；　you　dear　girl；　where　have　you　been？〃　She　wove　her　way　into　the　eating；　drinking　throng　and　he　gazed　after　her　stupidly；　wondering　how　they　had　happened　to　be　dancing　together　in　the　first　place。　He　didn't　remember。　Incidents　seemed　to　have　occurred　with　no　connections。　First　here；　then　there；　then　everywhere。　His　head　was　spinning。　He　smelled　lilies　and　juniper　berries。　Up　by　the　refreshment　table　Derwent　was　now　holding　a　tiny　triangular　sandwich　over　Roger's　head　and　urging　him；　to　the　general　merriment　of　the　onlookers；　to　do　a　somersault。　The　dogmask　was　turned　upward。　The　silver　sides　of　the　dog　costume　bellowsed　in　and　out。　Roger　suddenly　leaped；　tucking　his　head　under；　and　tried　to　roll　in　mid…air。　His　leap　was　too　low　and　too　exhausted；　he　landed　awkwardly　on　his　back；　rapping　his　head　smartly　on　the　tiles。　A　hollow　groan　drifted　out　of　the　dogmask。
　　Derwent　led　the　applause。　〃Try　again；　doggy！　Try　again！〃　The　onlookers　took　up　the　chant…try　again；　try　again…　and　Jack　staggered　off　the　other　way；　feeling　vaguely　ill。
　　He　almost　fell　over　the　drinks　cart　that　was　being　wheeled　along　by　a　low…　browed　man　in　a　white　mess　jacket。　His