sk.dreamcatcher-第13部分

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　　　　'Twinge　in　the　hip；'　he　said。　'Sorry。　Mr　McCarthy　…　Rick　…　you'll　want　to　take　off　your　sweater　and　pants。　Boots　too；　of　course。
　　　　McCarthy　looked　around　at　him　like　a　man　roused　from　a　dream。　'Sure；'　he　said。　'You　bet。'
　　　　'Need　help？'　Beaver　asked。
　　　　'No；　gosh　no。'　McCarthy　looked　alarmed　or　amused　or　both。　'I'm　not　that　far　gone。'
　　　　'Then　I'll　leave　Jonesy　to　supervise。'
　　　　Beaver　slipped　out　and　McCarthy　began　to　undress；　starting　by　pulling　his　sweater　off　over　his　head。　Beneath　it　he　wore　a　red…and…black　hunter's　shirt；　and　beneath　that　a　thermal　undershirt。　And　yes；　there　was　less　gut　poking　out　the　front　of　that　shirt；　Jonesy　was　sure　of　it。
　　　　Well　。　。　。　almost　sure。　Only　an　hour　ago；　he　reminded　himself；　he　had　been　sure　McCarthy's　coat　was　the　head　of　a　deer。
　　　　McCarthy　sat　down　in　the　chair　beside　the　window　to　take　off　his　shoes；　and　when　he　did　there　was　another　fart　…　not　as　long　as　the　first　one；　but　just　as　loud　and　hoarse。　Neither　of　them　mented　on　it；　or　the　resulting　smell；　which　was　strong　enough　in　the　little　room　to　make　Jonesy's　eyes　feel　like　watering。
　　　　McCarthy　kicked　his　boots　off　…　they　made　clunking　sounds　on　the　wooden　floor　…　then　stood　up　and　unbuckled　his　belt。　As　he　pushed　his　blue　jeans　down；　revealing　the　lower　half　of　his　thermal　underwear；　the　Beav　came　back　in　with　a　ceramic　pot　from　upstairs。　He　put　it　down　by　the　head　of　the　bed。　'Just　in　case　you　have　to；　you　know；　urk。　Or　if　you　get　one　of　those　collect　calls　you　just　have　to　take　right　away。'
　　　　McCarthy　looked　at　him　with　a　dullness　Jonesy　found　alarming　…　a　stranger　in　what　had　been　his　bedroom；　somehow　ghostly　in　his　baggy　long　underwear。　An　ill　stranger。　The　question　was　just　how　ill。
　　　　'In　case　you　can't　make　the　bathroom；'　the　Beav　explained。　'Which；　by　the　way；　is　close　by。　Just　bang　a　left　outside　the　bedroom　door；　but　remember　it's　the　second　door　as　you　go　along　the　wall；　okay？　If　you　forget　and　go　in　the　first　one；　you'll　be　taking　a　shit　in　the　linen　closet。'
　　　　Jonesy　was　surprised　into　a　laugh　and　didn't　care　for　the　sound　of　it　in　the　slightest　…　high　and　slightly　hysterical。
　　　　'I　feel　better　now；'　McCarthy　said；　but　Jonesy　detected　absolutely　zero　sincerity　in　the　man's　voice。　And　the　guy　just　stood　there　in　his　underwear；　like　an　android　whose　memory　circuits　have　been　about　three…quarters　erased。　Before；　he　had　shown　some　life；　if　not　exactly　vivacity；　now　that　was　gone；　like　the　color　in　his　cheeks。
　　　　'Go　on；　Rick；'　Beaver　said　quietly。　'Lie　down　and　catch　some　winks。　Work　on　getting　your　strength　back。'
　　　　'Yes；　okay。'　He　sat　down　on　the　freshly　opened　bed　and　looked　out　the　window。　His　eyes　were　wide　and　blank。　Jonesy　thought　the　smell　in　the　room　was　dissipating；　but　perhaps　he　was　just　getting　used　to　it；　the　way　you　got　used　to　the　smell　of　the　monkeyhouse　at　the　zoo　if　you　stayed　in　there　long　enough。　'Gosh；　look　at　it　snow。'
　　　　'Yeah；'　Jonesy　said。　'How's　your　stomach　now？'
　　　　'Better。'　McCarthy's　eyes　moved　to　Jonesy's　face。　They　were　the　solemn　eyes　of　a　frightened　child。　'I'm　sorry　about　passing　gas　that　way　…　I　never　did　anything　like　that　before；　not　even　in　the　Army　when　it　seemed　like　we　ate　beans　every　day　…　but　I　feel　better。'
　　　　'Sure　you　don't　need　to　take　a　leak　before　you　turn　in？'　Jonesy　had　four　children；　and　this　question　came　almost　automatically。　　　　
　　　　'No。　I　went　in　the　woods　just　before　you　found　me。　Thank　you　for　taking　me　in。　Thank　you　both。'
　　　　'Ah；　hell；'　Beaver　said；　and　shuffled　his　feet　unfortably。　'Anybody　woulda。'
　　　　'Maybe；'　McCarthy　said。　'And　maybe　not。　In　the　Bible　it　says；　〃Behold；　I　stand　at　the　door　and　knock。〃'　Outside；　the　wind　gusted　more　fiercely　yet；　making　Hole　in　the　Wall　shake。　Jonesy　waited　for　McCarthy　to　finish　…　it　sounded　as　if　he　had　more　to　say　…　but　the　man　just　swung　his　feet　into　bed　and　pulled　the　covers　up。
　　　　From　somewhere　deep　in　Jonesy's　bed　there　came　another　of　those　long；　rasping　farts；　and　Jonesy　decided　that　was　enough　for　him。　It　was　one　thing　to　let　in　a　wayfaring　stranger　when　he　came　to　your　door　just　ahead　of　a　storm；　it　was　another　to　stand　around　while　he　laid　a　series　of　gas…bombs。
　　　　The　Beaver　followed　him　out　and　closed　the　door　gently　behind　him。


5

When　Jonesy　started　to　talk；　the　Beav　shook　his　head；　raised　his　finger　to　his　lips；　and　led　Jonesy　across　the　big　room　to　the　kitchen；　which　was　as　far　as　they　could　get　from　McCarthy　without　going　into　the　shed　out　back。
　　　　'Man；　that　guy's　in　a　world　of　hurt；'　Beaver　said；　and　in　the　harsh　glow　of　the　kitchen's　fluorescent　strips；　Jonesy　could　see　just　how　worried　his　old　friend　was。　The　Beav　rummaged　into　the　wide　front　pocket　of　his　overalls；　found　a　toothpick；　and　began　to　nibble　on　it。　In　three　minutes　…　the　length　of　time　it　took　a　dedicated　smoker　to　finish　a　cigarette　…　he　would　reduce　it　to　a　palmful　of　flax…fine　splinters。　Jonesy　didn't　know　how　the　Beav's　teeth　stood　up　to　it　（or　his　stomach）；　but　he　had　been　doing　it　his　whole　life。
　　　　'I　hope　you're　wrong；　but　。　。　。'　Jonesy　shook　his　head。　'Did　you　ever　smell　anything　like　those　farts？'
　　　　'Nope；'　Beaver　said。　'But　there's　a　lot　more　going　on　with　that　guy　than　just　a　bad　stomach。'
　　　　'What　do　you　mean？'
　　　　'Well；　he　thinks　it's　November　eleventh；　for　one　thing。'
　　　　Jonesy　had　no　idea　what　the　Beav　was　talking　about。　November　eleventh　was　the　day　their　own　hunting　party　had　arrived；　bundled　into　Henry's　Scout；　as　always。
　　　　'Beav；　it's　Wednesday。　It's　the　fourteenth。'
　　　　Beaver　nodded；　smiling　a　little　in　spite　of　himself。　The　toothpick；　which　had　already　picked　up　an　appreciable　warp；　rolled　from　one　side　of　his　mouth　to　the　other。　'I　know　that。　You　know　that。　Rick；　he　don't　know　that。　Rick　thinks　it's　the　Lord's　Day。'
　　　　'Beav；　what　exactly　did　he　say　to　you？'　Whatever　it　was；　it　couldn't　have　been　much　…　it　just　didn't　take　that　long　to　scramble　a　couple　of　eggs　and　heat　a　can　of　soup。　That　started　a　train　of　thought；　and　as　Beaver　talked；　Jonesy　ran　water　to　do　up　the　few　dishes。　He　didn't　mind　camping　out；　but　he　was　damned　if　he　was　going　to　live　in　squalor；　as　so　many　men　seemed　willing　to　do　when　they　left　their　homes　and　went　into　the　woods。
　　　　'What　he　said　was　they　came　up　on　Saturday　so　they　could　hunt　a　little；　then　spend　Sunday　working　on　the　roof；　which　had　a　couple　of　leaks　in　it。　He　goes；　〃At　least　I　didn't　have　to　break　the　mandment　about　working　on　the　Sabbath。　When　you're　lost　in　the　woods；　the　only　thing　you　have　to　work　on　is　not　going　crazy。〃'
　　　　'Huh；'　Jonesy　said。
　　　　'I　guess　I　couldn't　swear　in　a　court　of　law　that　he　thinks　this　is　the　eleventh；　but　it's　either　that　or　go　back　a　week　further；　to　the　fourth；　because　he　sure　does　think　it's　Sunday。　And　I　just　can't　believe　he's　been　out　there　ten　days。'
　　　　Jonesy　couldn't；　either。　But　three？　Yes。　That　he　could　believe。　'It　would　explain　something　he　told　me；'　Jonesy　said。　'He…'
　　　　The　floor　creaked　and　they　both　jumped　a　little；　looking　toward　the　closed　bedroom　door　on　the　other　side　of　the　big　room；　but　there　was　nothing　to　see。　And　the　floors　and　walls　were　always　creaking　out　here；　even　when　the　wind　wasn't　blowing　up　high。　They　looked　at　each　other；　a　little　shamefaced。
　　　　'Yeah；　I'm　jumpy；'　Beaver　said；　perhaps　reading　Jonesy's　face；　perhaps　picking　the　thought　out　of　Jonesy's　mind。　'Man；　you　have　to　admit　it's　a　little　creepy；　him　turning　up　right　out　of　the　woods　like　that。'
　　　　'Yeah；　it　is。'
　　　　'That　fart　sounded　like　he　had　something　crammed　up　his　butt　that　was　dying　of　smoke　inhalation。'
　　　　The　Beav　looked　a　little　surprised　at　that；　as　he　always　did　when　he　said　something　funny。　They　began　laughing　simultaneously；　holding　onto　each　other　and　doing　it　through　open　mouths；　expelling　the　sounds　as　a　series　of　harsh　sighs；　trying　to　keep　it　down；　not　wanting　the　poor　guy　to　hear　them　if　he　was　still　awake；　hear　and　know　they　were　laughing　at　him。　Jonesy　had　a　particularly　hard　time　keeping　it　quiet　because　the　release　was　so　necessary　…　it　had　a　hysterical　seventy　to　it　and　he　doubled　over；　gasping　and　snorting；　water　running　out　of　his　eyes。
　　　　At　last　Beaver　grabbed　him　and　yanked　him　out　the　door。　There　they　stood　coatless　in　the　deepening　snow；　finally　able　to　laugh　out　loud　with　the　booming　wind　to　cover　the　sounds　they　made。


6

When　they　went　back　in　again；　Jonesy's　hands　were　so　numb　he　barely　felt　the　hot　water　when　he　plunged　his　hands　into　it；　but　he　was　laughed　out　and　that　was　good。　He　wondered　again　about　Pete　and　Henry　…　how　they　were　doing　and　if　they'd　make　it　back　okay。
　　　　'You　said　it　explained　some　stuff；'　the　Beav　said。　He　had　started　another　toothpick。　'What　stuff？'
　　　　'He　didn't　know　snow　was　ing；'　Jonesy　said。　He　spoke　slowly；　trying　to　recall　McCarthy's　exact　words。　〃'So　much　for　fair　and　seasonably　cold；〃　I　think　that's　what　he　said。　But　that　would　make　sense　if　the　last　forecast　he　heard　was　for　the　eleventh　or　twelfth。　Because　until　late　yesterday；　it　was　fair；　wasn't　it？'
　　　　'Yeah；　and　seasonably　fuckin　cold；'　Beaver　agreed。　He　pulled　a　dishtowel　with　a　pattern　of　faded　ladybugs　on　it　from　the　drawer　by　the　sink　and　began　to　dry　the　dishes。　He　looked　across　at　the　closed　bedroom　door　as　he　worked。　'What　else'd　he　say？'
　　　　'That　their　camp　was　in　Kineo。'
　　　　'Kineo？　That's　forty；　fifty　miles　west　of　here。　He…'　Beaver　took　the　toothpick　out　of　his　mouth；　examined　the　bite…marks　on　it；　and　put　the　other　end　in　his　mouth。　'Oh；　I　see。'
　　　　'Yeah。　He　couldn't　have　done　all　that　in　a　single　night；　but　if　he　was　out　there　for　three　days…'
　　　　'…and　four　nights；　if　he　got　lost　on　Saturday　afternoon　that　makes　four　nights…'
　　　　'Yeah；　and　four　nights。　So；　supposing　he　kept　pretty　much　headed　dead　east　that　whole　time　。　。　。'　Jonesy　calculated　fifteen　miles　a　day。　'I'd　say　it's　possible。'
　　　　'But　how　e　he　didn't　freeze？'　Beaver　had　lowered　his　voice　to　a　near…whisper；　probably　without　being　aware　of　it。　'He's　got　a　nice　heavy　coat　and　he's　wearin　longies；　but　nights　have　been　in　the　twenties　everywhere　north　of　the　county　line　since　Halloween。　So　you　tell　me　how　he　spends　four　nights　out　there　and　doesn't　freeze。　Doesn't　even　look　like　he's　got　any　frostbite；　just　that　mess　on　his　cheek。'
　　　　'I　don't　know。　And　there'