sk.dreamcatcher-第23部分

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t　to　be　within　ten　miles　of　him。　Was　smelling　nonexistent　cologne　like　that？　He　didn't　know；　only　that　he　didn't　like　the　way　the　smell　seemed　all　mixed　up　in　his　mind　with　the　idea　of　death。
　　　　Forget　it；　numbnuts。　You're　spooking　yourself；　that's　all。　There's　a　big　difference　between　really　seeing　the　line　and　just　spooking　yourself。　Forget　about　it　and　get　what　you　came　for。
　　　　'Good　fuckin　idea；'　Pete　said。
　　　　The　store…bags　were　plastic；　not　paper；　the　kind　with　handles；　Old　Man　Gosselin　had　marched　at　least　that　far　into　the　future。　Pete　snagged　one；　and　as　he　did；　felt　a　rip　of　pain　on　the　pad　of　his　right　hand。　Only　one　goddam　broken　bottle　and　so　naturally　he'd　cut　himself　on　it；　and　pretty　deep；　from　the　feel。　Maybe　this　was　his　punishment　for　leaving　the　woman　alone　back　there。　If　so；　he'd　take　it　like　a　man　and　count　himself　let　off　easy。
　　　　He　gathered　up　eight　bottles；　started　to　work　his　way　back　out　of　the　Scout；　then　thought　again。　Had　he　staggered　all　the　way　back　here　for　a　lousy　eight　beers？　'I　think　not；'　he　muttered；　and　then　got　the　other　seven；　taking　time　to　scrounge　them　all　in　spite　of　how　creepy　the　Scout　was　making　him　feel。　At　last　he　backed　out；　fighting　the　panicky　idea　that　something　small；　but　with　big　teeth；　would　soon　spring　at　him；　taking　a　great　big　chomp　out　of　his　balls。　Pete's　Punishment；　Part　Two。
　　　　He　didn't　exactly　freak；　but　he　wiggled　back　out　faster　than　he'd　wiggled　in；　and　his　knee　locked　up　again　just　as　he　got　entirely　clear。　He　rolled　over　on　his　back；　whimpering；　looking　up　into　the　snow　…　the　last　of　it；　now　ing　down　in　great　big　flakes　as　lacy　as　a　woman's　best　underwear　…　and　massaging　the　knee；　telling　it　to　e　on；　now；　honey；　e　on　now；　sweetie；　let　go；　you　fucking　bitch。　And　just　as　he　was　starting　to　think　that　this　time　it　wouldn't；　it　did。　He　hissed　through　his　teeth；　sat　up；　and　looked　at　the　bag　'THANKS　FOR　SHOPPING　AT　OUR　PLACE！　printed　on　the　side　in　red。
　　　　'Where　else　would　I　shop；　you　old　bastard？'　he　asked。　He　decided　to　allow　himself　one　beer　after　all　before　starting　back　to　the　woman。　Hell；　it　would　lighten　the　load。　　　
　　　　Pete　fished　one　out；　twisted　the　cap；　and　poured　the　top　half　down　his　throat　in　four　big　gulps。　It　was　cold　and　the　snow　he　was　sitting　in　was　even　colder；　but　he　still　felt　better。　That　was　the　magic　of　beer。　The　magic　of　scotch；　vodka；　and　gin　as　well；　but　when　it　came　to　alcohol；　he　was　with　Tom　T。　Hall：　he　liked　beer。
　　　　Looking　at　the　bag；　he　thought　again　of　the　carrot…top　back　in　the　store　…　the　mystified　grin；　the　Chinese　eyes　that　had　originally　earned　such　people　the　term　mongoloids；　as　in　mongoloid　idiot。　That　led　him　to　Duddits　again；　Douglas　Cavell　if　you　wanted　to　be　formal　about　it。　Why　Duds　had　been　on　his　mind　so　much　lately　Pete　couldn't　say；　but　he　had；　and　Pete　made　himself　a　promise：　when　this　was　over；　he　was　going　to　stop　in　Derry　and　see　old　Duddits。　He'd　make　the　others　go　with　him；　and　somehow　he　didn't　think　he'd　have　to　try　very　hard　to　convince　them。　Duddits　was　probably　the　reason　they　were　still　friends　after　so　many　years。　Hell；　most　kids　never　so　much　as　thought　of　their　college　or　high…school　buddies　again；　let　alone　those　they'd　chummed　with　in　junior　high　。　。　。　what　was　now　known　as　middle　school；　although　Pete　had　no　doubt　it　was　the　same　sad　jungle　of　insecurities；　confusion；　smelly　armpits；　crazy　fads；　and　half…baked　ideas。　They　hadn't　known　Duddits　from　school；　of　course；　because　Duddits　didn't　go　to　Derry　junior　High。　Duds　went　to　The　Mary　M。　Snowe　School　for　the　Exceptional；　which　was　known　to　the　neighborhood　kids　as　The　Retard　Academy　or　sometimes　just　The　Dumb　School。　In　the　ordinary　course　of　events　their　paths　never　would　have　crossed；　but　there　was　this　vacant　lot　out　on　Kansas　Street；　and　the　abandoned　brick　building　that　went　with　it。　Facing　the　street　you　could　still　read　TRACKER　BROTHERS　SHIPPING　TRUCKING　AND　STORAGE　in　fading　white　paint　on　the　old　red　brick。　And　on　the　other　side；　in　the　big　alcove　where　the　trucks　had　once　backed　up　to　unload　。　。　。　something　else　was　painted　there。
　　　　Now；　sitting　in　the　snow　but　no　longer　feeling　it　melting　to　cold　slush　under　his　ass；　drinking　his　second　beer　without　even　being　aware　he　had　opened　it　（the　first　empty　he　had　cast　into　the　woods　where　he　could　still　see　animals　moving　east）；　Pete　remembered　the　day　they　had　met　Duds。　He　remembered　Beaver's　stupid　jacket　that　the　Beav　had　loved　so　much；　and　Beaver's　voice；　thin　but　somehow　powerful；　announcing　the　end　of　something　and　the　beginning　of　something　else；　announcing　in　some　ungraspable　but　perfectly　real　and　knowable　way　that　the　course　of　their　lives　had　changed　one　Tuesday　afternoon　when　all　they　had　been　planning　was　some　two…on…two　in　Jonesy's　driveway　and　then　maybe　a　game　of　Parcheesi　in　front　of　the　TV；　now；　sitting　here　in　the　woods　beside　the　overturned　Scout；　still　smelling　the　cologne　Henry　hadn't　been　wearing；　drinking　his　life's　happy　poison　with　a　hand　wearing　a　bloodstained　glove；　the　car　salesman　remembered　the　boy　who　had　not　quite　given　up　his　dreams　of　being　an　astronaut　in　spite　of　his　increasing　problems　with　math　（Jonesy　had　helped　him；　and　then　Henry　had　helped　him　and　then；　in　tenth　grade；　he'd　been　beyond　help）；　and　he　remembered　the　other　boys　as　well；　mostly　the　Beav；　who　had　turned　the　world　upside　down　with　a　high　yell　in　his　just…beginning…to…change　voice：　Hey　you　guys；　quit　it！　Just　fucking　QUIT　it！
　　　　'Beaver；'　Pete　said；　and　toasted　the　dark　afternoon　as　he　sat　with　his　back　propped　against　the　overturned　Scout's　hood。　'You　were　beautiful；　man。'　But　hadn't　they　all　been？
　　　　Hadn't　they　all　been　beautiful？


4

Because　he　is　in　the　eighth　grade　and　his　last　class　of　the　day　is　music；　on　the　ground　floor；　Pete　is　always　out　before　his　three　best　friends；　who　always　finish　the　day　on　the　second　floor；　Jonesy　and　Henry　in　American　Fiction；　which　is　a　reading　class　for　smart　kids；　and　Beaver　next　door　in　Math　for　Living；　which　is　actually　Math　for　Stupid　Boys　and　Girls。　Pete　is　fighting　hard　not　to　have　to　take　that　one　next　year；　but　he　thinks　it's　a　fight　he　will　ultimately　lose。　He　can　add；　subtract；　multiply；　and　divide；　he　can　do　fractions；　too；　although　it　takes　him　too　much　time。　But　now　there　is　something　new；　now　there　is　the　x。　Pete　does　not　understand　the　x；　and　fears　it。
　　　　He　stands　outside　the　gate　by　the　chainlink　fence　as　the　rest　of　the　eighth…graders　and　the　babyass　seventh…graders　stream　by；　stands　there　kicking　his　boots　and　pretending　to　smoke；　one　hand　cupped　to　his　mouth　and　the　other　concealed　beneath　it　…　the　concealed　hand　the　one　with　the　hypothetical　hidden　butt。
　　　　And　now　here　e　the　ninth…graders　from　the　second　floor；　and　walking　among　them　like　royalty　…　like　uncrowned　kings；　almost；　although　Pete　would　never　say　such　a　corny　thing　out　loud　…　are　his　friends；　Jonesy　and　Beaver　and　Henry。　And　if　there　is　a　king　of　kings　it　is　Henry；　whom　all　the　girls　love　even　if　he　does　wear　glasses。　Pete　is　lucky　to　have　such　friends；　and　he　knows　it　…　is　probably　the　luckiest　eighth…grader　in　Derry；　x　or　no　x。　The　fact　that　having　friends　in　the　ninth　grade　keeps　him　from　getting　beaten　up　by　any　of　the　eighth…grade　badasses　is　the　very　least　of　it。
　　　　'Hey；　Pete！'　Henry　says　as　the　three　of　them　e　sauntering　out　through　the　gate。　As　always；　Henry　seems　surprised　to　see　him　there；　but　absolutely　delighted。　'What　you　up　to；　my　man？'
　　　　'Nothin　much；'　Pete　replies　as　always。　'What's　up　with　you？'
　　　　'SSDD；'　Henry　says；　whipping　off　his　glasses　and　giving　them　a　polish。　If　they　had　been　a　club；　SSDD　likely　would　have　been　their　motto；　eventually　they　will　even　teach　Duddits　to　say　it　…　it　came　out　Say　shih；　iffa　deh　in　Duddits…ese；　and　is　one　of　the　few　things　Duddits　says　that　his　parents　can't　understand。　This　of　course　will　delight　Pete　and　his　friends。
　　　　Now；　however；　with　Duddits　still　half　an　hour　in　their　future；　Pete　just　echoes　Henry：　'Yeah；　man；　SSDD。'
　　　　Same　shit；　different　day。　Except　in　their　hearts；　the　boys　only　believe　the　first　half；　because　in　their　hearts　they　believe　it's　the　same　day；　day　after　day。　It's　Derry；　it's　1978；　and　it　win　always　be　1978。　They　say　there　will　be　a　future；　that　they　will　live　to　see　the　twenty…first　century　…　Henry　will　be　a　lawyer；　Jonesy　win　be　a　writer；　Beaver　will　be　a　long…haul　truck…driver；　Pete　will　be　an　astronaut　with　a　NASA　patch　on　his　shoulder　…　but　this　is　just　what　they　say；　as　they　chant　the　Apostle's　Creed　in　church　with　no　real　idea　of　what's　ing　out　of　their　mouths；　what　they're　really　interested　in　is　Maureen　Chessman's　skirt；　which　was　short　to　begin　with　and　has　ridden　a　pretty　good　way　up　her　thighs　as　she　shifted　around。　They　believe　in　their　hearts　that　one　day　Maureen's　skirt　will　ride　up　high　enough　for　them　to　see　the　color　of　her　panties；　and　they　similarly　believe　that　Derry　is　forever　and　so　are　they。　It　will　always　be　junior　high　school　and　quarter　of　three；　they　will　always　be　walking　up　Kansas　Street　together　to　play　basketball　in　Jonesy's　driveway　（Pete　also　has　a　hoop　in　his　driveway　but　they　like　Jonesy's　better　because　his　father　has　posted　it　low　enough　so　you　can　dunk）；　talking　about　the　same　old　things：　classes　and　teachers　and　which　kid　got　into　a　fuckin　pisser　with　which　kid；　or　which　kid　is　going　to　get　into　a　fuckin　pisser　with　which　kid；　whether　or　not　so…and…so　could　take　so…and…so　if　they　got　into　a　fuckin　pisser　（except　they　never　will　because　so…and…so　and　so…and…so　are　tight）；　who　did　something　gross　lately　（their　favorite　so　far　this　year　has　to　do　with　a　seventh…grader　named　Norm　Parmeleau；　now　known　as　Macaroni　Parmeleau；　a　nickname　that　will　pursue　him　for　years；　even　into　the　new　century　of　which　these　boys　speak　but　do　not　in　their　hearts　actually　believe；　to　win　a　fifty…cent　bet；　Norm　Parmeleau　had　one　day　in　the　cafeteria　firmly　plugged　both　nostrils　with　macaroni　and　cheese；　then　hawked　it　back　like　snot　and　swallowed　it；　Macaroni　Parmeleau　who；　like　so　many　junior…high…school　kids；　has　mistaken　notoriety　for　celebrity）；　who　is　going　out　with　whom　（if　a　girl　and　a　guy　are　observed　going　home　together　after　school；　they　are　presumed　to　be　probably　going　out；　if　they　are　observed　ban　in　onto　hands　or　suckin　face　it　is