sk.carrie-第26部分

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ted　the　plump；　fulsome　bitterness　of　horror。　They　had　finally　given　her　the　shower　they　wanted。
A　second　voice　joined　the　first；　and　was　followed　by　a　third　…　girl's　soprano　giggle　…　a　fourth；　a　fifth；　six；　a　dozen；　all　of　them；　all　laughing。　Vic　Mooney　was　laughing。　She　could　see　him。　His　face　was　utterly　frozen；　shocked；　but　that　laughter　issued　forth　just　the　same。
She　sat　quite　still；　letting　the　noise　wash　over　her　like　surf　They　were　still　all　beautiful　and　there　was　still　enchantment　and　wonder；　but　she　had　crossed　a　line　and　now　the　fairy　tale　was　green　with　corruption　and　evil。　In　this　one　she　would　bite　a　poison　apple；　be　attacked　by　trolls；　be　eaten　by　tigers。
They　were　laughing　at　her　again。
And　suddenly　it　broke。　The　horrible　realization　of　how　badly　she　had　been　cheated　came　over　her；　and　a　horrible；　soundless　cry
（they're　LOOKING　at　me）
tried　to　e　out　of　her。　She　put　her　hands　over　her　face　to　hide　it　and　staggered　out　of　the　chair。　Her　only　thought　was　to　run；　to　get　out　of　the　light；　to　let　the　darkness　have　her　and　hide　her。
But　it　was　like　trying　to　run　through　molasses。　Her　traitor　mind　had　slowed　time　to　a　crawl；　it　was　as　if　God　had　switched　the　whole　scene　from　78　rpm　to　33　1/3。　Even　the　laughter　seemed　to　have　deepened　and　slowed　to　a　sinister　bass　rumble。　
Her　feet　tangled　in　each　other；　and　she　almost　fell　of　the　edge　of　the　stage。　She　recovered　herself；　bent　down；　and　hopped　down　to　the　floor。　The　grinding　laughter　swelled　louder。　It　was　like　rocks　rubbing　together。
She　wanted　not　to　see；　but　she　did　see；　the　lights　were　too　bright　and　she　could　see　all　their　faces。　Their　mouths；　；their　teeth；　their　eyes。　She　could　see　her　own　gorestreaked　hands　in　front　of　her　face。
Miss　Desjardin　was　running　toward　her；　and　Miss　Desjardin's　face　was　filled　with　lying　passion。　Carrie　could　we　beneath　the　surface　to　where　the　real　Miss　Geer　was　giggling　and　chuckling　with　rancid　old…maid　ribaldry。　Miss　Desjardin's　mouth　opened　and　her　voice　issued　forth；　horrible　and　slow　and　deep：
'Let　me　help　you；　dear。　Oh　I　am　so　sor…'
She　struck　out　at　her
（flex）
and　Miss　Desjardin　went　flying　to　rattle　off　the　wall　at　the　side　of　the　stage　and　fall　into　a　heap。
Carrie　ran。　She　ran　through　the　middle　of　them。　Her　hands　were　to　her　face　but　she　could　see　through　the　prison　of　her　fingers；　could　see　them；　how　they　were；　beautiful；　wrapped　in　light；　swathed　in　the　bright；　angelic　robes　of　Acceptance。　The　shined　shoes；　the　clear　faces；　the　careful　beauty…parlour　hairdos；　the　glittery　gowns。　They　stepped　back　from　her　as　if　she　was　plague；　but　they　kept　laughing；　then；　a　foot　was　stuck　slyly　out
（o　yes　that　es　next　o　yes）
and　she　fell　over　on　her　hands　and　knew　and　began　to　crawl；　to　crawl　along　the　floor　with　her　blood…clotted　hair　hanging　in　her　face；　crawling　like　St　Paul　on　the　Damascus　Road；　whose　eyes　had　been　blinded　by　the　light。　Next　someone　would　kick　her　ass。
But　no　one　did　and　then　she　was　scrabbling　to　her　feet　again。　Things　began　to　speed　up。　She　was　out　through　the　door；　out　into　the　lobby；　then　flying　down　the　stairs　that　she　and　Tommy　had　swept　up　so　grandly　two　hours　ago。
（tommy's　dead　full　price　paid　full　price　for　bringing　a　plague　into　the　place　of　light）
She　went　down　them　in　great；　awkward　leaps；　with　the　sound　of　the　laughter　flapping　around　her　like　black　birds。
Then；　darkness。
She　fled　across　the　school's　wide　front　lawn；　losing　both　of　her　prom　slippers　and　fleeing　barefoot　The　closely　cut　school　lawn　was　like　velvet；　lightly　dusted　with　dewfall；　and　the　laughter　was　behind　her。　She　began　to　calm　slightly。
Then　her　feet　did　tangle　and　she　fell　at　full　length　out　by　the　flagpole。　She　lay　quiescent；　breathing　raggedly；　her　hot　face　buried　in　the　cool　grass。　The　tears　of　shame　began　to　flow；　as　hot　and　as　heavy　as　that　first　flow　of　menstrual　blood　had　been。　They　had　beaten　her；　bested　her；　once　and　for　all　time。　It　was　over。
She　would　pick　herself　up　very　soon　now；　and　sneak　home　by　the　back　streets；　keeping　to　the　shadows　in　case　someone　came　looking　for　her；　find　Momma；　admit　she　had　been　wrong
（！　NO　！）
The　steel　in　her…　and　there　was　a　great　deal　of　it　suddenly　rose　up　and　cried　the　word　out　strongly。　The　closet？　The　endless；　wandering　prayers？　The　tracts　and　the　cross　and　only　the　mechanical　bird　in　the　Black　Forest　cuckoo　clock　to　mark　off　the　rest　of　the　hours　and　days　and　years　and　decades　of　her　life？
Suddenly；　as　if　a　videotape　machine　had　been　turned　on　in　her　mind；　she　saw　Miss　Desjardin　running　toward　her；　and　saw　her　thrown　out　of　her　way　like　a　rag　doll　as　she　used　her　mind　on　her；　without　even　consciously　thinking　of　it。
She　rolled　over　on　her　back；　eyes　staring　wildly　at　the　stars　from　her　painted　face。　She　was　forgetting
（！　THE　POWER　！）
It　was　time　to　teach　them　a　lesson。　Time　to　show　them　a　thing　or　two。　She　giggled　hysterically。　It　was　one　of　Momma's　pet　phrases。
（momma　ing　home　putting　her　purse　down　eyeglasses　flashing　well　i　guess　i　showed　that　elt　a　thing　or　two　at　the　shop　today）
There　was　the　sprinkler　system。　She　could　turn　it　on；　turn　it　on　easily。　She　giggled　again　and　got　up；　began　to　walk　barefoot　back　toward　the　lobby　doors。　Turn　on　the　sprinkler　system　and　close　all　the　doors。　Look　in　and　let　them　see　her　looking　in；　watching　and　laughing　while　the　shower　ruined　their　dresses　and　their　hairdos　and　took　the　shine　off　their　shoes。　Her　only　regret　was　that　it　couldn't　be　blood。
The　lobby　was　empty。　She　paused　halfway　up　the　stairs　and　FLEX；　the　doors　all　slammed　shut　under　the　concentrated　force　she　directed　at　them　the　pneumatic　door…closers　snapping　of。　She　heard　some　of　them　scream　and　it　was　music；　sweet　soul　music。
For　a　moment　nothing　changed　and　then　she　could　feel　them　pushing　against　the　doors；　wanting　them　to　open。　The　pressure　was　negligible。　They　were　trapped
（trapped）
and　the　word　echoed　intoxicatingly　in　her　mind。　They　were　under　her　thumb；　in　her　power。　Power！　What　a　word　that　was！
She　went　the　rest　of　the　way　up　and　looked　in　and　George　Dawson　was　smashed　up　against　the　glass；　struggling；　pushing；　his　face　distorted　with　effort。　There　were　others　behind　him；　and　they　all　looked　like　fish　in　an　aquarium。
She　glanced　up　and　yes；　there　were　the　sprinkler　pipes；　with　their　tiny　nozzles　like　metal　daisies。　The　pipes　went　through　small　holes　in　the　green　cinderblock　wall。　There　were　a　great　many　inside；　she　remembered。　Fire　laws；　or　something。
Fire　laws。　In　a　flash　her　mind　recalled
（black　thick　cords　like　snakes）
the　power　cords　strung　all　over　the　stage。　They　were　out　of　the　audience's　sight；　hidden　by　the　footlights；　but　she　had　had　to　step　carefully　over　them　to　get　to　the　throne。　Tommy　had　been　holding　her　arm。
（fire　and　water）
She　reached　up　with　her　mind；　felt　the　pipes；　traced　them　Cold；　full　of　water。　She　tasted　iron　in　her　mouth；　cold　wet　metal；　the　taste　of　water　drank　from　the　nozzle　of　a　garden　hose。
Flex
For　a　moment　nothing　happened。　Then　they　began　to　back　away　from　the　doors；　looking　around。　She　walked　to　the　small　oblong　of　glass　in　the　middle　door　and　looked　inside。
It　was　raining　in　the　gym。
Carrie　began　to　smile。
She　hadn't　gotten　all　of　them；　only　some。　But　she　found　that　by　looking　up　at　the　sprinkler　system　with　her　eyes；　she　could　trace　its　course　more　easily　with　her　mind。　She　began　to　turn　on　more　of　the　nozzles；　and　more。　Yet　it　wasn't　enough。　They　weren't　crying　yet；　so　it　wasn't　enough
（hurt　them　then　hurt　them）
There　was　a　boy　up　on　the　stage　by　Tommy；　gesturing　wildly　and　shouting　something。　As　she　watched；　he　climbed　down　and　ran　toward　the　rock　band's　equipment。　He　caught　hold　one　of　the　microphone　stands　and　was　transfixed。　Carrie　watched；　amazed；　as　his　body　went　through　a　nearly　motionless　dance　of　electricity。　His　feet　shuffled　in　the　water；　his　hair　stood　up　in　spikes；　and　his　mouth　jerked　open；　like　the　mouth　of　a　fish。　He　looked　funny。　She　began　to　laugh。
（by　christ　then　let　them　all　look　funny）
And　in　a　sudden；　blind　thrust；　she　yanked　at　all　the　power　she　could　feel。
Some　of　the　fights　puffed　out。　There　was　a　dazzling　flash　somewhere　as　a　live　power　cord　hit　a　puddle　of　water。　There　were　dull　thumps　in　her　mind　as　circuit　breakers　went　into　hopeless　operation。　The　boy　who　had　been　holding　the　mike　stand　fell　over　on　one　of　his　amps　and　there　was　an　explosion　of　purple　sparks　and　then　the　crepe　bunting　that　faced　the　stage　was　burning。
Just　below　the　thrones；　a　live　220…volt　electricity　cable　was　crackling　on　the　floor　and　beside　it　Rhonda　Simard　was　doing　a　crazed　puppet　dance　in　her　green　tulle　formal。　Its　full　skirt　suddenly　blazed　into　flame　and　she　fell　forward；　still　jerking。
It　might　have　been　at　that　moment　that　Carrie　went　over　the　edge。　She　leaned　against　the　doors；　her　heart　pumping　wildly；　yet　her　body　as　cold　as　ice　cubes。　Her　face　was　livid；　but　dull　red　fever　spots　stood　on　each　cheek。　Her　head　throbbed　thickly；　and　conscious　thought　was　lost。
She　reeled　away　from　the　doors；　still　holding　them　shut；　doing　it　without　thought　or　plan。　Inside　the　fire　was　brightening　and　she　realized　dimly　that　the　mural　must　have　caught　on　fire。
She　collapsed　on　the　top　step　and　put　her　head　down　on　her　knees；　trying　to　slow　her　breathing。　They　were　trying　to　get　out　the　doors　again；　but　she　held　them　shut　easilythat　alone　was　no　strain。　Some　obscure　sense　told　her　that　a　few　were　getting　out　the　fire　doors；　but　let　them。　She　would　get　them　later。　She　would　get　all　of　them。　Every　last　one。
She　went　down　the　stairs　slowly　and　out　the　front　doors；　still　holding　the　gymnasium　doors　closed。　It　was　easy。　All　you　had　to　do　was　see　them　in　your　mind。
The　town　whistle　went　off　suddenly；　making　her　scream　and　put　her　hands　in　front　of　her　face
（the　whistle　it's　just　the　fire　whistle）
for　a　moment。　Her　mind's　eye　lost　sight　of　the　gymnasium　doors　and　some　of　them　almost　got　out。　No；　no。　Naughty。　She　slammed　them　shut　again；　catching　somebody's　fingers…it　felt　like　Dale　Norbert　…　in　the　jamb　and　severing　one　of　them。
She　began　to　reel　across　the　lawn　again；　a　scarecrow　fig=　with　bulging　eyes；　toward　Main　Street。　On　her　right　was　dowtown　…　the　department　store；　the　Kelly　Fruit；　the　beauty　parlour　and　barbershop；　gas　stations；　police　station；　fire　station
（they'll　put　out　my　fire）
But　they　wouldn't。