sk.dreamcatcher-第10部分

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；　he　wondered　it　a　little；　anyway。
　　　　'Dry　lightning；　I　guess；'　the　man　said。　Jonesy　could　almost　see　him　shrugging　it　off。　He　scratched　at　the　red　place　on　his　cheek；　which　might　have　been　a　touch　of　frostbite。　'See　it　in　winter；　it　means　there's　a　storm　on　the　way。'
　　　　'And　you　saw　this？　Last　night？'
　　　　'I　guess　so。'　The　man　gave　him　another　quick；　sideways　glance；　but　this　time　Jonesy　saw　no　slyness　in　it；　and　guessed　he　had　seen　none　before。　He　saw　only　exhaustion。　'It's　all　mixed　up　in　my　mind　。　。　。　my　stomach's　been　hurting　ever　since　I　got　lost　it　always　hurts　when　I'm　ascairt；　ever　since　I　was　a　little　kid　。　。　。　'
　　　　And　he　was　like　a　little　kid；　Jonesy　thought；　looking　everywhere　at　once　with　perfect　unselfconsciousness。　Jonesy　led　the　guy　toward　the　couch　in　front　of　the　fireplace　and　the　guy　let　himself　be　led。　Ascairt。　He　even　said　ascairt　instead　of　afraid；　like　a　kid。　A　little　kid。
　　　　'Give　me　your　coat；'　Jonesy　said；　and　as　the　guy　first　unbuttoned　the　buttons　and　then　reached　for　the　zipper　under　them；　Jonesy　thought　again　of　how　he　had　thought　he　was　looking　at　a　deer；　at　a　buck　for　Chrissakes　…　he　had　mistaken　one　of　those　buttons　for　an　eye　and　had　damned　near　put　a　bullet　through　it。
　　　　The　guy　got　the　zipper　halfway　down　and　then　it　stuck；　one　side　of　the　little　gold　mouth　choking　on　the　cloth。　He　looked　at　it　…　gawked　at　it；　really　…　as　if　he　had　never　seen　such　a　thing　before。　And　when　Jonesy　reached　for　the　zipper；　the　man　dropped　his　hands　to　his　sides　and　simply　let　Jonesy　reach；　as　a　first…grader　would　stand　and　let　the　teacher　put　matters　right　when　he　got　his　galoshes　on　the　wrong　feet　or　his　jacket　on　inside　out。
　　　　Jonesy　got　the　little　gold　mouth　started　again　and　pulled　it　the　rest　of　the　way　down。　Outside　the　window…wall；　The　Gulch　was　disappearing；　although　you　could　still　see　the　black　scrawled　shapes　of　the　trees。　Almost　thirty　years　they　had　e　up　here　together　for　the　hunting；　almost　thirty　years　without　a　single　miss；　and　in　none　of　that　time　had　there　been　snow　heavier　than　the　occasional　squall。　It　looked　like　all　that　was　about　to　change；　although　how　could　you　tell？　These　days　the　guys　on　radio　and　TV　made　four　inches　of　fresh　powder　sound　like　the　next　Ice　Age。
　　　　For　a　moment　the　guy　only　stood　there　with　his　jacket　hanging　open　and　snow　melting　around　his　boots　on　the　polished　wooden　floor；　looking　up　at　the　rafters　with　his　mouth　open；　and　yes；　he　was　like　a　great　big　six…year…old　…　or　like　Duddits。　You　almost　expected　to　see　mittens　dangling　from　the　cuffs　of　his　jacket　on　clips。　He　shrugged　out　of　his　coat　in　that　perfectly　recognizable　child's　way；　simply　slumping　his　shoulders　once　it　was　unzipped　and　letting　it　fall。　If　Jonesy　hadn't　been　there　to　catch　it；　it　would　have　gone　on　the　floor　and　gotten　right　to　work　sopping　up　the　puddles　of　melting　snow。
　　　　'What's　that？'　he　asked。
　　　　For　a　moment　Jonesy　had　no　idea　what　the　guy　was　talking　about；　and　then　he　traced　the　stranger's　gaze　to　the　bit　of　weaving　which　hung　from　the　center　rafter。　It　was　colorful　…　red　and　green；　with　shoots　of　canary　yellow；　as　well　…　and　it　looked　like　a　spiderweb。
　　　　'It's　a　dreamcatcher；'　Jonesy　said。　'An　Indian　charm。　Supposed　to　keep　the　nightmares　away；　I　guess。'
　　　　'Is　it　yours？'
　　　　Jonesy　didn't　know　if　he　meant　the　whole　place　（perhaps　the　guy　hadn't　been　listening　before）　or　just　the　dreamcatcher；　but　in　either　case　the　answer　was　the　same。　'No；　my　friend's。　We　e　up　hunting　every　year。'
　　　　'How　many　of　you？'　The　man　was　shivering；　holding　his　arms　crisscrossed　over　his　chest　and　cupping　his　elbows　in　his　palms　as　he　watched　Jonesy　hang　his　coat　on　the　tree　by　the　door。
　　　　'Four。　Beaver　…　this　is　his　camp　　is　out　hunting　now。　I　don't　know　if　the　snow'll　bring　him　back　in　or　not。　Probably　it　will。　Pete　and　Henry　went　to　the　store。'
　　　　'Gosselin's？　That　one？'
　　　　'Uh…huh。　e　on　over　here　and　sit　down　on　the　couch。'　Jonesy　led　him　to　the　couch；　a　ridiculously　long　sectional。　Such　things　had　gone　out　of　style　decades　ago；　but　it　didn't　smell　too　bad　and　nothing　had　infested　it。　Style　and　taste　didn't　matter　much　at　Hole　in　the　Wall。
　　　　'Stay　put　now；'　he　said；　and　left　the　man　sitting　there；　shivering　and　shaking　with　his　hands　clasped　between　his　knees。　His　jeans　had　the　sausagey　look　they　get　when　there　are　longjohns　underneath；　and　still　he　shook　and　shivered。　But　the　heat　had　brought　on　an　absolute　flood　of　color；　instead　of　looking　like　a　corpse；　the　stranger　now　looked　like　a　diphtheria　victim。
　　　　Pete　and　Henry　were　doubling　in　the　bigger　of　the　two　downstairs　bedrooms。　Jonesy　ducked　in；　opened　the　cedar　chest　to　the　left　of　the　door；　and　pulled　out　one　of　the　two　down　forters　folded　up　inside。　As　he　recrossed　the　living　room　to　where　the　man　sat　shivering　on　the　couch；　Jonesy　realized　he　hadn't　asked　the　most　elementary　question　of　all；　the　one　even　six…year…olds　who　couldn't　get　their　own　zippers　down　asked。
　　　　As　he　spread　the　forter　over　the　stranger　on　the　outsized　camp　couch；　he　said：　'What's　your　name？'　And　realized　he　almost　knew。　McCoy？　McCann？
　　　　The　man　Jonesy　had　almost　shot　looked　up　at　him；　at　once　pulling　the　forter　up　around　his　neck。　The　brown　patches　under　his　eyes　were　filling　in　purple。
　　　　'McCarthy；'　he　said。　'Richard　McCarthy。'　His　hand；　surprisingly　plump　and　white　without　its　glove；　crept　out　from　beneath　the　coverlet　like　a　shy　animal。　'You　are？'
　　　　'Gary　Jones；'　he　said；　and　took　the　hand　with　the　one　which　had　almost　pulled　the　trigger。　'Folks　mostly　call　me　Jonesy。'
　　　　'Thanks；　Jonesy。'　McCarthy　looked　at　him　earnestly。　'I　think　you　saved　my　life。'
　　　　'Oh；　I　don't　know　about　that；'　Jonesy　said。　He　looked　at　that　red　patch　again。　Frostbite；　just　a　small　patch。　Frostbite；　had　to　be。

CHAPTER　TWO

THE　BEAV


1
　　　　
'You　know　I　can't　call　anyone；　don't　you？'　Jonesy　said。　'The　phone　lines　don't　e　anywhere　near　here。　There's　a　genny　for　the　electric；　but　that's　all。'
　　　　McCarthy；　only　his　head　showing　above　the　forter；　nodded。　'I　was　hearing　the　generator；　but　you　know　how　it　is　when　you're　lost　…　noises　are　funny。　Sometimes　the　sound　seems　to　be　ing　from　your　left　or　your　right；　then　you'd　swear　it's　behind　you　and　you　better　turn　back。'
　　　　Jonesy　nodded；　although　he　did　not；　in　fact；　know　how　it　was。　Unless　you　counted　the　week　or　so　immediately　after　his　accident；　time　he　had　spent　wandering　in　a　fog　of　drugs　and　pain；　he　had　never　been　lost。
　　　　'I'm　trying　to　think　what'd　be　the　best　thing；'　Jonesy　said。　'I　guess　when　Pete　and　Henry　get　back；　we　better　take　you　out。　How　many　in　your　party？'
　　　　It　seemed　McCarthy　had　to　think。　That；　added　to　the　unsteady　way　he　had　been　walking；　solidified　Jonesy's　impression　that　the　man　was　in　shock。　He　wondered　that　one　night　lost　in　the　woods　would　do　that；　he　wondered　if　it　would　do　it　to　him。
　　　　'Four；'　McCarthy　said；　after　that　minute　to　think。　'Just　like　you　guys。　We　were　hunting　in　pairs。　I　was　with　a　friend　of　mine；　Steve　Otis。　He's　a　lawyer　like　me；　down　in　Skowhegan。　We're　all　from　Skowhegan；　you　know；　and　this　week　for　us　。　。　。　it's　a　big　deal。'　Jonesy　nodded；　smiling。　'Yeah。　Same　here。'
　　　　'Anyway；　I　guess　I　just　wandered　off。'　He　shook　his　head。　'I　don't　know；　I　was　hearing　Steve　over　on　my　right；　sometimes　seeing　his　vest　through　the　trees；　and　then　I　。　。　。　I　just　don't　know。　I　got　thinking　about　stuff；　I　guess　…　one　thing　the　woods　are　great　for　is　thinking　about　stuff　…　and　then　I　was　on　my　own。　I　guess　I　tried　to　backtrack　but　then　it　got　dark　。　。　。'　He　shook　his　head　yet　again；　'It's　all　mixed　up　in　my　mind；　but　yeah　…　there　were　four　of　us；　I　guess　that's　one　thing　I'm　sure　of　Me　and　Steve　and　Nat　Roper　and　Nat's　sister；　Becky。'
　　　　'They　must　be　worried　sick。'
　　　　McCarthy　looked　first　startled；　then　apprehensive。　This　was　clearly　a　new　idea　for　him。　'Yeah；　they　must　be。　Of　course　they　are。　Oh　dear；　Oh　gee。'
　　　　Jonesy　had　to　restrain　a　smile　at　this。　When　he　got　going；　McCarthy　sounded　a　little　like　a　character　in　that　movie；　Fargo。
　　　　'So　we　better　take　you　out。　If；　that　is…'
　　　　'I　don't　want　to　be　a　bother…'
　　　　'We'll　take　you　out。　If　we　can。　I　mean；　this　weather　came　in　fast。'
　　　　'It　sure　did；'　McCarthy　said　bitterly。　'You'd　think　they　could　do　better　with　all　their　darn　satellites　and　doppler　radar　and　gosh　knows　what　else。　So　much　for　fair　and　seasonably　cold；　huh？'
　　　　Jonesy　looked　at　the　man　under　the　forter；　just　the　flushed　face　and　the　thatch　of　thinning　brown　hair　showing；　with　some　perplexity。　The　forecasts　he　had　heard　…　he；　Pete；　Henry；　and　the　Beav　…　had　been　full　of　the　prospect　of　snow　for　the　last　two　days。　Some　of　the　prognosticators　hedged　their　bets；　saying　the　snow　could　change　over　to　rain；　but　the　fellow　on　the　Castle　Rock　radio　station　that　morning　（WCAS　was　the　only　radio　they　could　get　up　here；　and　even　that　was　thin　and　jumbled　with　static）　had　been　talking　about　a　fast…moving　Alberta　Clipper；　six　or　eight　inches；　and　maybe　a　nor'easter　to　follow；　if　the　temperatures　stayed　down　and　the　low　didn't　go　out　to　sea。　Jonesy　didn't　know　where　McCarthy　had　gotten　his　weather　forecasts；　but　it　sure　hadn't　been　WCAS。　The　guy　was　just　mixed　up；　that　was　most　likely　it；　and　had　every　right　to　be。
　　　　'You　know；　I　could　put　on　some　soup。　How　would　that　be；　Mr　McCarthy？'
　　　　McCarthy　smiled　gratefully。　'I　think　that　would　be　pretty　fine；〃　he　said。　'My　stomach　hurt　last　night　and　something　fierce　this　morning；　but　I　feel　better　now。'
　　　　'Stress；'　Jonesy　said。　'I　would　have　been　puking　my　guts。　Probably　filling　my　pants；　as　well。'
　　　　'I　didn't　throw　up；'　McCarthy　said。　'I'm　pretty　sure　I　didn't。　But　。　。　。'　Another　shake　of　the　head；　it　was　like　a　nervous　tic　with　him。　'I　don't　know。　The　way　things　are　jumbled；　it's　like　a　nightmare　I　had。'
　　　　'The　nightmare's　over；'　Jonesy　said。　He　felt　a　little　foolish　saying　such　a　thing　…　a　little　auntie…ish　…　but　it　was　clear　the　guy　needed　reassurance。
　　　　'Good；'　McCarthy　said。　'Thank　you。　And　I　would　like　some　soup。'
　　　　'There's　tomato；　chicken；　and　I　think　maybe　a　can　of　Chunky　Sirloin。　What　do　you　fancy？'
　　　　'Chicken；'　McCarthy　said。　'My　mother　always　said　chicken　soup　was　the　thing　when　you're　not　feeling　your　best。'
　　　　He　grinned　as　he　said　it；　and　Jonesy　tried　to　keep　t