sk.theplant-第17部分

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　　Herb　stepped　back　from　the　door　and　looked　at　Bill。　〃Are　you　convinced；　O　Doubting　Thomas？〃
　　〃You　know　I　am；〃　Bill　said。　〃Don't　rub　it　in；　okay？〃
　　〃Nobody　is　going　to　rub　anything　in；〃　Roger　said　brusquely。　〃We've　got　more　important　things　to　do。　Now　e　on。〃
　　He　lead　us　back　toward　Editorial；　smoothing　his　tie　as　he　went　and　then　tucking　it　into　his　belt。　I　paused　just　once；　at　the　jog　in　the　corridor；　and　looked　back。　I　was　convinced　that　it　would　be　gone；　that　the　whole　thing　had　been　some　sort　of　wacky　five…way　hallucination；　but　it　was　still　there；　a　green　flood　of　leaves　and　a　brownish　tangle　of　limber　vines；　a　good　many　now　crawling　up　the　wall。
　　〃Amazing；〃　Herb　breathed　beside　me。
　　〃Yes；〃　I　said。
　　〃And　all　that　stuff　that　happened　in　Rhode　Island？　All　that's　true？〃
　　〃It's　all　true；〃　I　agreed。
　　〃e　on；〃　Roger　called。　〃We've　got　a　lot　to　talk　about。〃
　　I　started　moving；　but　then　Herb　caught　my　arm。　〃I　almost　wish　old　Iron…Guts　wasn't　dead；〃　he　said。　〃Can　you　imagine　how　something　like　this　would　blow　his　mind？〃
　　I　didn't　respond　to　this；　but　I　was　thinking　plenty；　most　of　it　having　to　do　with　Tina　Barfield's　note。
　　Back　in　Roger's　office　again；　Roger　behind　his　desk；　me　in　the　chair　beside　it；　Sandra　in　her　chair；　Bill　and　Herb　once　more　sitting　on　the　carpet　with　their　legs　stretched　out　and　their　backs　to　the　wall。
　　〃Any　questions？〃　Roger　asked；　and　we　all　shook　our　heads。　Someone　reading　this　diary…someone　outside　of　these　events；　in　other　words…would　no　doubt　find　that　incredible：　how　in　God's　name　could　there　be　no　questions？　How　could　we　have　avoided　spending　at　least　the　rest　of　the　morning　speculating　about　the　invisible　world？　More　likely　the　rest　of　the　day？
　　The　answer's　simple：　it　was　because　of　the　mind…meld。　We　had　e　to　a　mutual　understanding　few　people　are　able　to　manage。　And　there's　also　the　small　fact　that　we　have　a　business　to　save…our　meal…tickets；　if　you　want　to　get　down　and　dirty　about　it。　Getting　down　and　dirty　seems　easier　for　me　since　Ruth　kissed　me　off…perhaps　the　prolixity　will　go　next。　I　can　hope；　anyway。　I'll　tell　you　something　about　the　fabled　meal…ticket；　since　I'm　on　the　subject。　You　worry　when　you're　in　danger　of　losing　it；　but　you　don't　bee　truly　frantic　until　you're　in　danger　of　losing　it　and　you　realize　it　could　possibly　be　saved。　If；　that　is；　you　move　very　quickly　and　don't　stumble。　Fatalism　is　a　crutch。　I　never　knew　that　before；　but　I　do　now。
　　And　one　more　thing　about　the　〃no　questions〃　thing。　People　can　get　used　to　anything…quadriplegia；　hair　loss；　cancer；　even　finding　out　your　beloved　only　daughter　just　joined　the　Hare　Krishnas　and　is　currently　spare…changing　business　travelers　at　Stapleton　International　in　a　pair　of　fetching　orange　pajamas。　We　adapt。　An　invisible；　telepathy…inducing　ivy　is　just　one　more　thing　to　get　used　to。　We'll　worry　about　the　ramifications　later；　maybe。　Right　then　we　had　a　pair　of　books　to　work　on：　World's　Sickest　Jokes　and　The　Devil's　General。
　　The　only　one　of　us　to　have　problems　getting　with　the　program　was　Herb　Porter；　and　his　distraction　had　nothing　to　do　with　Zenith　the　mon　ivy。　At　least　not　directly。　He　kept　shooting　reproachful；　bewildered　glances　at　Sandra；　and　thanks　to　the　mind…meld；　I　knew　why。　Bill　and　Roger　did；　too。　It　seems　that　over　the　last　half…year　or　so；　Mr。　Riddley　Walker　of　Bug's　Anus；　Alabama　has　been　waxing　more　than　the　floors　here　at　Zenith　House。
　　〃Herb？〃　Roger　asked。　〃Are　you　with　us　or　agin　us？〃
　　Herb　kind　of　snapped　around；　like　a　man　who's　just　been　awakened　from　a　doze。　〃Huh？　Yeah！　Of　course！〃
　　〃I　don't　think　you　are；　not　entirely。　And　I　want　you　with　us。　The　good　bark　Zenith　has　sprung　one　hell　of　a　nasty　leak；　in　case　you　haven't　noticed。　If　we're　going　to　keep　her　from　sinking；　we　need　all　hands　at　the　pumps。　No　frigging　in　the　rigging。　Do　you　take　my　point？〃
　　〃I　take　it；〃　Herb　said　sullenly。
　　Sandra；　meanwhile；　gave　him　a　look　which　contained　nothing　but　perplexity。　I　think　she　knows　what　Herb　knows　（and　that　we　all　know）。　She　just　can't　understand　why　in　God's　name　Herb　would　care。　Men　don't　understand　women；　I　know　that's　true。　。　。　but　women　deeply　don't　understand　men。　And　if　they　did；　they　probably　wouldn't　have　much　to　do　with　us。
　　〃All　right；〃　Roger　said；　〃suppose　you　tell　us　what；　if　anything；　is　being　done　with　the　General　Hecksler　book。〃
　　To　Roger's　delight　and　amazement；　a　great　deal　has　been　done　on　the　Iron…Guts　bio；　and　in　a　very　short　time。　While　Roger　and　I　were　in　Central　Falls；　Herb　Porter　was　one　busy　little　bee。　Not　only　has　he　engaged　Olive　Barker　as　the　ghost　on　The　Devil's　General；　he's　gotten　her　solemn　promise　to　deliver　a　sixty　thousand…word　first　draft　in　just　three　weeks。
　　To　say　that　I　was　surprised　by　this　quick　action　would　be　drawing　it　mild。　In　my　previous　experience；　Herb　Porter　only　moves　fast　when　Riddley　es　down　the　hall　yelling；　〃Dey's　doughnuts　in　de　kitchenette；　and　dey　sho　are　fine！　Dey's　doughnuts　in　de　kitchenette；　and　dey　sho　are　fine！〃
　　〃Three　weeks；　man；　I　don't　know；〃　Bill　said　dubiously。　〃Stroke　aside；　Olive's　got　this　little　problem。〃　He　mimed　swallowing　a　handful　of　pills。
　　〃That's　the　best　part；〃　Herb　said。　〃Mademoiselle　Barker　is　clean；　at　least　for　the　time　being。　She's　going　to　those　meetings　and　everything。　You　know　she　was　always　the　fastest　on…demand　writer　we　had　when　she　was　straight。〃
　　〃Clean　copy；　too；〃　I　said。　〃At　least　it　used　to　be。〃
　　〃Can　she　stay　clean　for　three　weeks；　do　you　think？〃
　　〃She'll　stay　clean；〃　Herb　said　grimly。　〃For　the　next　three　weeks；　I'm　Olive　Barker's　personal　sponsor。　She　gets　calls　three　times　a　day。　If　I　hear　so　much　as　a　single　slurred　s；　and　I'm　over　there　with　a　stomach…pump。　And　an　enema　bag。〃
　　〃Please；〃　Sandra　said；　grimacing。
　　Herb　ignored　her。　〃But　that's　not　all。　Wait。〃
　　He　darted　out；　crossed　the　hall　to　the　glorified　closet　that's　his　office　（on　the　wall　is　a　poster…sized　photo　of　General　Anthony　Hecksler　which　Herb　throws　darts　at　when　he's　bored）；　and　came　back　with　a　sheaf　of　paper。　He　looked　uncharacteristically　shy　as　he　put　them　in　Roger's　hands。
　　Instead　of　looking　at　the　manuscript…because　of　course　that　was　what　it　was…Roger　looked　at　Herb；　eyebrows　raised。
　　For　a　moment　I　thought　Herb　was　having　an　allergic　reaction；　perhaps　as　a　result　of　some　skin　sensitivity　to　ivy　leaves。　Then　I　realized　he　was　blushing。　I　saw　this；　but　the　idea　still　seems　foreign　to　me；　like　the　idea　of　Clint　Eastwood　blubbering　into　his　mommy's　lap。
　　〃It's　my　account　of　the　Twenty　Psychic　Garden　Flowers　business；〃　Herb　said。　〃I　think　it's　pretty　good；　actually。　Only　about　thirty　per　cent　of　it　is　actually　true…I　never　tackled　Iron…Guts　and　brought　him　to　his　knees　when　he　showed　up　here　waving　a　knife；　for　instance。　。　。〃
　　True　enough；　I　thought；　since　Hecksler　never　showed　up　here　at　all；　to　the　best　of　our　knowledge。
　　〃。　。　。but　it　makes　good　reading。　I。　。　。　I　was　inspired。〃　Herb　lowered　his　face　for　a　moment；　as　if　the　idea　of　inspiration　struck　him　as　somehow　shameful。　Then　he　raised　his　head　again　and　looked　around　at　us　defiantly。　〃Besides；　the　goddam　loony's　dead；　and　I　don't　expect　any　trouble　from　his　sister；　especially　if　we　bring　her　into　the　tent　to　help　with　the　book　and　slip　her　a　couple　of　hundred　for　her。　。　。　well；　call　it　creative　assistance。〃
　　Roger　was　looking　through　the　pages　Herb　had　handed　him；　pretty　much　ignoring　this　flood　of　verbiage。　〃Herb；〃　he　said。　〃There's。　。　。　my　goodness　gracious；　there's　thirty…eight　pages　here。　That's　close　to　ten　thousand　words。　When　did　you　do　it？〃
　　〃Last　night；〃　he　said；　looking　down　at　the　floor　again。　His　cheeks　were　brighter　than　ever。　〃I　told　you；　I　was　inspired。〃
　　Sandra　and　Bill　looked　impressed；　but　not　as　impressed　as　I　felt。　To　the　best　of　my　knowledge；　only　Thomas　Wolfe　was　a　ten…thousand…a…day　man。　Certainly　it　overshadows　my　pitiful　clackings　on　this　Olivetti。　And　as　Roger　leafed　through　the　pages　again；　I　saw　less　than　a　dozen　strikeovers　and　interlinings。　God；　he　must　have　been　inspired。
　　〃This　is　terrific；　Herb；〃　Roger　said；　and　there　was　no　doubting　the　sincerity　in　his　voice。　〃If　the　writing's　okay…based　on　your　memos　and　summaries　I　have　every　reason　to　think　it　will　be…it's　going　to　be　the　heart　of　the　book。〃　Herb　flushed　again；　this　time　I　think　with　pleasure。
　　Sandra　was　looking　at　his　manuscript。　〃Herb；　do　you　think　writing　that　so　fast。　。　。　do　you　think　it　had　anything　to　do　with。　。　。　you　know。　。　。〃
　　〃Sure　it　did；〃　Bill　said。　〃Must　have。　Don't　you　think　so；　Herb？〃
　　I　could　see　Herb　struggling；　wanting　to　take　credit　for　the　ten　thousand　words　that　were　going　to　form　the　dramatic　heart　of　The　Devil's　General；　and　then　（I　swear　this　is　true）　I　could　sense　his　thoughts　turning　to　the　plant；　to　the　spectacular　richness　of　it　when　Bill　Gelb　yanked　open　the　door　and　it　came　sprawling　out　of　its　closet。
　　〃Of　course　it　was　the　plant；〃　he　said。　〃I　mean；　it　had　to　have　been。　I've　never　written　anything　that　good　in　my　life。〃
　　And　I　could　guess　who　the　hero　of　the　piece　would　turn　out　to　be；　but　I　kept　my　mouth　shut。　On　that　subject；　at　least。　On　another　one；　I　thought　it　prudent　to　open　it。
　　〃In　Tina　Barfield's　letter　to　me；〃　I　said；　〃she　told　me　that　when　we　read　about　Carlos's　death；　not　to　believe　it。　Then　she　said；　'Like　the　General。　'　I　repeat：　'Like　the　General。　'　〃
　　〃That　is　utter　and　plete　bullshit；〃　Herb　said；　but　he　sounded　uneasy；　and　a　lot　of　the　color　faded　out　of　his　cheeks。　〃The　guy　crawled　into　a　goddamned　gas　oven　and　gave　himself　a　Viking　funeral。　The　cops　found　his　gold　teeth；　each　engraved　with　the　number　7；　for　7th　Army。　And　if　that's　not　enough；　they　also　found　the　lighter　Douglas　MacArthur　gave　him。　He　never　would　have　given　that　up。　Never。〃
　　〃So　maybe　he's　dead；〃　Bill　said。　〃According　to　Roger　and　John；　this　guy　Keen　was　dead；　too；　but　he　was　still　lively　enough　to　read　the　used…car　ads　in　the　newspaper。〃
　　〃Mr。　Keen　just　had　his　heart　torn　out；　though；〃　Herb　said。　He　spoke　almost　nonchalantly；　as　if　getting　your　heart　torn　out　was　roughly　the　same　as　ripping　a　hangnail　off　on　the　trunk…latch　of　your　car。　〃There　wasn't　anything　left　of　Iron…Guts　but　ashes；　teeth；　and　a　few　lumps　of　bon