sk.carrie-第6部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


s　hovering　grimly　over　a　family　seated　at　the　kitchen　table。　Beneath　was　the　caption　（also　luminous）：　The　Unseen　Guest。
She　went　into　the　living　room　and　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　faded；　starting…to…be…threadbare　rug。　She　closed　her　eyes　and　watched　the　little　dots　flash　by　in　the　darkness。　Her　headache　thumped　queasily　behind　her　temples。
Alone。
Momma　worked　on　the　speed　ironer　and　folder　down　at　the　Blue　Ribbon　Laundry　in　Chamberlain　Centre。　She　had　worked　there　since　Carrie　was　five；　when　the　pensation　and　insurance　that　had　resulted　from　her　father's　accident　had　begun　to　run　out。　Her　hours　were　from　seven…thirty　in　the　morning　until　four　in　the　afternoon。　The　laundry　was　Godless。　Momma　had　told　her　so　many　times。　The　foreman；　Mr　Elton　Mott；　was　especially　Godless。　Momma　said　that　Satan　had　reserved　a　special　blue　corner　of　Hell　for　Elt；　as　he　was　called　at　the　Blue　Ribbon。
Alone。
She　opened　her　eyes。　The　living　room　contained　two　chairs　with　straight　backs。　There　was　a　sewing　table　with　a　light　where　Carrie　sometimes　made　dresses　in　the　evening　while　Momma　tatted　doilies　and　talked　about　The　ing。　The　Black　Forest　cuckoo　clock　was　on　the　far　wall。
There　were　many　religious　pictures；　but　the　one　Carrie　liked　best　was　on　the　wall　above　her　chair。　It　was　Jesus　leading　lambs　on　a　hill　that　was　as　green　and　smooth　as　the　Riverside　golf　course。　The　others　were　not　as　tranquil：　Jesus　turning　the　money…changers　from　the　temple；　Moses　throwing　the　Tablets　down　upon　the　worshippers　of　the　golden　calf；　Thomas　the　Doubter　putting　his　hand　on　Christ's　wounded　side　（oh；　the　horrified　fascination　of　that　one　and　the　nightmares　it　had　given　her　as　a　girl！）；　Noah's　ark　floating　above　the　agonized；　drowning　sinners；　Lot　and　his　family　fleeing　the　great　burning　of　Sodom　and　Gomorrah。
On　a　small　deal　table　there　were　a　lamp　and　a　stack　of　tracts。　The　top　pamphlet　showed　a　sinner　（his　spiritual　status　was　obvious　from　the　agonized　expression　on　his　face）　trying　to　crawl　beneath　a　large　boulder。　The　title　blared：　Neither　shall　the　rock　hide　him　ON　THAT　DAY！
But　the　room　was　actually　dominated　by　a　huge　plaster　crucifix　on　the　far　wall；　fully　four　feet　high。　Momma　had　mail…ordered　it　special　from　St　Louis。　The　Jesus　impaled　upon　it　was　frozen　in　a　grotesque；　muscle…straining　rictus　of　pain；　mouth　drawn　down　in　a　groaning　curve。　His　crown　of　thorns　bled　scarlet　streams　down　temples　and　forehead。　The　eyes　were　turned　up　in　a　medieval　expression　of　slanted　agony。　Both　hands　were　also　drenched　with　blood　and　the　feet　were　nailed　to　a　small　plaster　platform。　This　corpus　had　also　given　Carrie　endless　nightmares　in　which　the　mutilated　Christ　chased　her　through　dream　corridors；　holding　a　mallet　and　nails；　begging　her　to　take　up　her　cross　and　follow　Him。　Just　lately　these　dreams　had　evolved　into　something　less　understandable　but　more　sinister。　The　object　did　not　seem　to　be　murder　but　something　even　more　awful。
Alone。
The　pain　in　her　legs　and　belly　and　privates　had　drained　away　a　little。　She　no　longer　thought　she　was　bleeding　to　death。　The　word　was　menstruation；　and　all　at　once　it　seemed　logical　and　inevitable。　It　was　her　Time　of　the　Month。　She　giggled　a　strange；　affrighted　giggle　in　the　solemn　stillness　of　the　flying　room。　It　sounded　like　a　quiz　show。　You　too　can　win　an　all…expenses…paid　trip　to　Bermuda　on　Time　of　the　Month。　Like　the　memory　of　the　stones；　the　knowledge　of　menstruation　seemed　always　to　have　been　there；　blocked　but　waiting。
She　turned　and　walked　heavily　upstairs。　The　bathroom　had　a　wooden　floor　that　had　been　scrubbed　nearly　white　（Cleanliness　is　next　to　Godliness）　and　a　tub　on　claw　feet。　Rust　stains　dripped　down　the　porcelain　below　the　chrome　spout；　and　there　was　no　shower　attachment。　Momma　said　showers　were　sinful。
Carrie　went　in；　opened　the　towel　cabinet；　and　began　to　hunt　purposefully　but　carefully；　not　leaving　anything　out　of　place。　Momma's　eyes　were　sharp。
The　blue　box　was　in　the　very　back；　behind　the　old　towels　they　didn't　use　any　more。　There　was　a　fuzzily　silhouetted　woman　in　a　long；　filmy　gown　on　the　side。
She　took　one　of　the　napkins　out　and　looked　at　it　curiously。　She　had　blotted　the　lipstick　she　stuck　into　her　purse　quite　openly　with　these　…　once　on　a　street　corner。　Now　she　remembered　（or　imagined　she　did）　quizzical；　shocked　looks。　Her　face　flamed。　They　had　told　her。　The　flush　faded　to　a　milky　anger。
She　went　into　her　tiny　bedroom。　There　were　many　more　religious　pictures　here；　but　there　were　more　lambs　and　fewer　scenes　of　righteous　wrath。　A　Ewen　pennant　was　tacked　over　the　dresser。　On　the　dresser　itself　was　a　Bible　and　a　plastic　Jesus　that　glowed　in　the　dark。
She　undressed　…　first　her　blouse；　then　her　hateful　kneelength　skirt；　her　slip；　her　girdle；　her　pettipants；　her　garter　belt；　her　stockings；　She　looked　at　the　pile　of　heavy　clothes；　their　buttons　and　rubber；　with　an　expression　of　fierce　wretchedness。　In　the　school　library　there　was　a　stack　of　back　issues　of　Seventeen　and　often　she　leafed　through　them；　pasting　an　expression　of　idiotic　casualness　on　her　face。　The　models　looked　so　easy　and　smooth　in　their　short；　kicky　skirts；　pantyhose；　and　frilly　underwear　with　patterns　on　them。　Of　course　easy　was　one　of　Momma's　pet　words　（she　knew　what　Momma　would　say　to　a　question）　to　describe　them。　And　it　would　make　her　dreadfully　self…conscious；　she　knew　that。　Naked；　evil；　blackened　with　the　sin　of　exhibitionism；　the　breeze　blowing　lewdly　up　the　backs　of　her　legs；　inciting　lust。　And　she　knew　that　they　would　know　how　she　felt。　They　always　did。　They　would　embarrass　her　somehow；　push　her　savagely　back　into　clowndom。　It　was　their　way。
She　could；　she　knew　she　could　be
（what）
in　another　place。　She　was　thick　through　the　waist　only　because　sometimes　she　felt　so　miserable；　empty；　bored；　that　the　only　way　to　fill　that　gaping；　whistling　hole　was　to　eat　and　eat　and　eat…but　she　was　not　that　thick　through　the　middle。　Her　body　chemistry　would　not　allow　her　to　go　beyond　a　certain　point。　And　she　thought　her　legs　were　actually　pretty；　almost　as　pretty　as　Sue　Snell's　or　Vicky　Hans's。　She　could　be
（what　o　what　o　what）　
could　stop　the　chocolates　and　her　pimples　would　go　down。　They　always　did。　She　could　fix　her　hair。　Buy　pantyhose　and　blue　and　green　tights。　Make　little　skirts　and　dresses　from　Butterick　and　Simplicity　patterns。　The　price　of　a　bus　ticket；　a　train　ticket。　She　could　be；　could　be；　could　be
Alive。
She　unsnapped　her　heavy　cotton　bra　and　let　it　fall。　Her　breasts　were　milk…white；　upright　and　smooth。　The　nipples　were　a　light　coffee　colour。　She　ran　her　hands　over　them　and　a　little　shiver　went　through　her。　Evil；　bad；　oh　it　was。　Momma　had　told　her　there　was　Something。　The　Something　was　dangerous；　ancient；　unutterably　evil。　It　could　make　you　Feeble。　Watch；　Momma　said。　It　es　at　night。　It　will　make　you　think　of　the　evil　that　goes　on　in　parking　lots　and　roadhouses。
But；　though　this　was　only　nine…twenty　in　the　morning；　Carrie　thought　that　the　Something　had　e　to　her。　She　ran　her　hands　over　her　breasts
（dirtypillows）　
again；　and　the　skin　was　cool　but　the　nipples　were　hot　and　hard；　and　when　she　tweaked　one　it　made　her　feel　weak　and　dissolving。　Yes；　this　was　the　Something。
Her　underpants　were　spotted　with　blood。
Suddenly　she　felt　that　she　must　burst　into　tears；　scream；　or　rip　the　Something　out　of　her　body　whole　and；　beating；　crush　it；　kill　it。
The　napkin　Miss　Desjardin　had　fixed　was　already　wilting　and　she　changed　it　carefully；　knowing　how　bad　she　was；　how　bad　they　were；　how　she　hated　them　and　herself。　Only　Momma　was　good。　Momma　had　battled　the　Black　Man　and　had　vanquished　him。　Carrie　had　seen　it　happen　in　a　dream。　Momma　had　driven　him　out　of　the　front　door　with　a　broom；　and　the　Black　Man　had　fled　up　Carlin　Street　into　the　night；　his　cloven　feet　striking　red　sparks　from　the　cement。
Her　momma　had　torn　the　Something　out　of　herself　and　was　pure。
Carrie　hated　her。
She　caught　a　glimpse　of　her　own　face　in　the　tiny　mirror　she　had　hung　on　the　back　of　the　door；　a　mirror　with　a　cheap　green　plastic　rim；　good　only　for　bing　hair　by。
She　hated　her　face；　her　dull；　stupid；　bovine　face；　the　vapid　eyes；　the　red；　shiny　pimples；　the　nests　of　black　heads。　She　hated　her　face　most　of　all。
The　reflection　was　suddenly　split　by　a　jagged；　silvery　crack。　The　mirror　fell　on　the　floor　and　shattered　at　her　feet；　leaving　only　the　plastic　ring　to　stare　at　her　like　a　blinded　eye。
From　Ogilvie's　Dictionary　of　Physic　Phenomena：
Telekinesis　is　the　ability　to　move　objects　or　to　cause　changes　in　objects　by　force　of　the　mind。　The　phenomenon　has　most　reliably　been　reported　in　times　of　crisis　or　in　stress　situations；　when　automobiles　have　been　levitated　from　pinned　bodies　or　debris　from　collapsed　buildings；　etc。
The　phenomenon　is　often　confused　with　the　work　of　poltergeists；　which　are　playful　spirits。　It　should　be　noted　that　poltergeists　are　astral　beings　of　questionable　reality；　while　telekinesis　is　thought　to　be　an　empiric　function　of　the　mind；　possibly　electrochemical　in　nature　。。。
When　they　had　finished　making　love；　as　she　slowly　put　her　clothes　in　order　in　the　back　seat　of　Tommy　Ross's　1963　Ford；　Sue　Snell　found　her　thoughts　turning　back　to　Carrie　White。
It　was　Friday　night　and　Tommy　（who　was　still　looking　pensively　out　the　back　window　with　his　pants　still　down　around　his　ankles；　the　effect　was　ic　but　oddly　endearing）　had　taken　her　bowling。　That；　of　course；　was　a　mutually　accepted　excuse。　Fornication　had　been　on　their　minds　from　the　word　go。
She　had　been　going　out　more　or　less　steadily　with　Tommy　ever　since　October　（it　was　now　May）　and　they　had　been　lovers　for　only　two　weeks。　Seven　times；　she　amended。　Tonight　had　been　the　seventh。　There　had　been　no　fireworks　yet；　no　bands　playing　'Stars　and　Stripes　Forever；'　but　it　had　gotten　a　little　better。
The　first　time　had　hurt　like　hell。　Her　girl　friends；　Helen　Shyres　and　Jeanne　Gault；　had　both　done　It；　and　they　both　assured　her　that　it　only　hurt　for　a　minute　…　like　getting　a　shot　of　penicillin　…　and　then　it　was　roses。　But　for　Sue；　the　first　time　had　been　like　being　reamed　out　with　a　hoe　handle。　Tommy　had　confessed　to　her　since；　with　a　grin；　that　he　had　gotten　the　rubber　on　wrong；　too。
Tonight　was　only　the　second　time　she　had　begun　to　feel　something　like　pleasure；　and　then　it　was　over。　Tommy　had　held　out　for　as　long　as　he　could；　but　then