thillerman.theblessingway-第26部分

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y　to　herself；　trying　to　understand　the　tale　she　was　telling。
　She　had　met　Jim　at　Pennsylvania　State　on　the　first　day　of　a　Shakespeare's　Tragedies　class。　He　had　taken　the　chair　to　her　left　and　she　had　hardly　noticed　him　until　the　professor　called　the　roll。　But　the　professor's　voice　had　risen　slightly　in　a　question　as　he　read　〃Jimmy　Willie　Hall〃　off　the　class　card。　The　professor　had　intended　no　rudeness　and　he　made　this　clear　by　nodding　in　acknowledgment　to　Jim's　〃Heah；〃　but　someone　in　the　back　of　the　room　had　sniggered　and　this　churlishness　to　a　stranger　had　embarrassed　Ellen；　embarrassed　her　all　the　more　because　she；　too；　had　smiled　at　the　ludicrous　sound。　She　had　glanced　at　the　young　man　with　the　outlandish　name　and　noticed　he　wore　cowboy　boots　and　had　a　wide…brimmed　gray　felt　hat　pushed　under　his　chair。　On　a　campus　where　styles　were　set　by　the　casual；　careless　conformity　of　young　men　from　Philadelphia　one　was　as　out　of　place　as　the　other。　And；　when　she　had　looked　at　him　again；　she　had　seen　that　while　his　face；　neck；　and　hands　were　incredibly　sunburned　his　forearms　about　the　wrists　were　as　white　as　the　shirt　he　was　wearing。
　〃He　looked　very　strange　and　out　of　place；〃　Ellen　said。　And　suddenly　she　laughed。　〃I　thought　he　would　be　lonely；〃　she　said；　sounding　incredulous。
　She　had　spoken　to　this　Jimmy　Willie　Hall　in　the　lecture　building　hallway。　Jim　had　said；　in　reply　to　her　ment　that　he　wasn't　from　the　East；　that　he　was　from　Hall；　New　Mexico；　and　when　she　had　asked　where　that　was；　he　had　said　he　wasn't　really　from　Hall；　exactly；　because　their　place　was　twenty　one　miles　northwest　of　there；　in　the　foothills　of　the　Oscura　Mountains。　It　was　just　that　they　picked　up　their　mail　at　Hall。　He　guessed　he　should　say　he　was　from　Corona；　which　was　larger　and　slightly　closer。
　The　conversation　had　been　inane　and　pointless；　Ellen　recalled；　as　exploratory　chats　with　strangers　tend　to　be。　She　asked　why；　if　Corona　was　larger　and　nearer；　they　picked　up　their　mail　at　Hall；　and　he　had　explained　that　there　was　no　road　from　the　Hall　ranch　to　Corona。　To　get　there　you　had　to　go　through　the　Oscura　Range　and　Jicarilla　Apache　Reservation　or　over　the　malpais…across　seven　miles　of　broken　lava　country。　You　can't　even　get　a　horse　over　that；　he　had　explained。　The　only　time　he　had　tried；　his　horse　had　broken　a　leg　and　he　had　been　bitten　by　a　rattlesnake。
　〃That　sounds　like　he　was　trying　to　impress　me；〃　she　said。　〃But　he　wasn't。　A　girl　can　tell　about　that。　He　was　just　telling　me　about　a　silly　mistake　he　had　made。〃　Ellen's　voice　stopped。　〃I　guess　I　knew　right　then　he　wasn't　lonely；〃　she　continued；　thoughtfully；　〃and　that　I　had　never　seen　anyone　like　him。〃
　He　had　seemed；　she　remembered；　like　someone　visiting　from　the　far　side　of　the　globe　her　father　kept　in　the　office　of　his　pharmacy…someone　pletely　foreign　to　all　she　knew。　As　different　from　the　men　she　had　dated　as　his　empty　Oscura　foothills　were　from　her　family's　elm…shaded　residential　street　in　a　Philadelphia　suburb。
　〃You　remember　Othello〃？〃　Ellen　asked　suddenly。
　〃Othello？〃　McKee　said；　surprised。
　〃Yes。　The　Moor　of　Venice。　We　studied　it　that　semester；　after　Hamlet。　You　remember　how　Desdemona　was　fascinated　by　Othello？〃
　〃I　remember；〃　McKee　said；　trying　to　remember。
　〃That　was　us；〃　Ellen　said。　〃That　was　our　private　joke。〃
　〃Remember　how　it　goes？〃　She　paused　a　moment。
　〃A　maiden　never　bold；
　Of　spirit　so　still　and　quiet　that　her　motion
　Blush'd　at　herself；　and　she…in　spite　of　nature；
　Of　years；　of　country；　credit；　everything…
　To　fall　in　love　with　what　she　fear'd　to　look　on！
　It　is　a　judgment　maim'd　and　most　imperfect。。。〃
　〃Yes；〃　said　McKee；　〃I　remember　it。〃　He　felt　immensely　sad。
　〃I　would　say　that；〃　Ellen　said；　〃and　Jim　would　say　Othello's　lines：
　〃It　was　my　hint　to　speak…such　was　the　process；
　And　of　the　Cannibals　that　each　other　eat。
　The　Anthropophagi；　and　men　whose　heads
　Do　grow　beneath　their　shoulders。　This　to　hear
　Would　Desdemona　seriously　incline。。。'〃
　Ellen　stopped　again。　And　when　she　continued　the　voice　was　shaky。
　〃I　loved　him　for　the　dangers　he　had　passed。
　And　he　loved　me　that　I　did　pity　them。〃
　McKee　reached　across　the　darkness　and　found　her　hand。　〃It's　going　to　be　all　right；〃　he　said。　〃We'll　get　out　of　here　and　find　him。〃
　〃Can't　you　understand？〃　she　asked；　and　her　voice　sounded　angry　now。　〃Why　should　I　pity　someone　like　Jim　Hall？　Why　should　anyone　pity　anybody　who　has　everything？〃
　McKee　couldn't　think　of　an　answer。
　〃Because　he　doesn't　know　he　has　everything？〃　Ellen　suggested。　〃Because　he　isn't　happy？
　〃Sometimes　he　is；　but　mostly　he　isn't。　He's　angry。　He　says　he's　caught　in　a　system　which　keeps　you　on　the　treadmill。　Forty　years　on　the　treadmill；　he　says。　He　talks　about　it　a　lot；　about　how　it　takes　a　million　dollars　to　beat　the　system；　to　pay　your　own　ransom；　to　buy　back　your　own　life。〃
　She　laughed　again；　a　bitter　sound。　〃I　guess　he。。。　Well；　I　guess　Jim　will　make　a　million　dollars；〃　she　said。
　〃Not　teaching　on　an　engineering　faculty；〃　McKee　said。
　〃Oh；　he's　not　going　to　do　that；〃　she　said。　〃He's　going　with　one　of　the　electronic　munications　products　panies　and　he's　bringing　along　one　of　his　patents；　so　it's　a　very　good　job。〃
　〃Is　that　what　he's　working　on　out　here？〃　McKee　asked。　〃Trying　it　out。〃
　〃Oh；　no。　This　is　another　one；　I　think。　I…well；　I　wish　I　understood　it　better。　Something　to　do　with　very　narrow…range　sound　transmission。　He　explained　it　to　me…quite　often…but　I　don't　really　understand　it。〃
　McKee　started　to　ask　her　why　she　was　looking　for　Dr。　Hall　and　bit　back　the　question。　The　answer　was　obvious；　and　none　of　his　business。　A　woman　who　loves　a　man　would　simply　want　to　see　him。
　〃Dr。　Canfield　was　nice；　he　was　nice；　a　nice　man；〃　Ellen　said。　〃But　he　was　too　polite　to　ask　why　I　was　chasing　after　Jim。　And　you've　been　nice；　too。　But　would　you　like　to　know？〃
　〃It's　your　private　business；〃　McKee　said。　〃No；　I　don't　want　to　know。〃
　〃I　want　to　tell　you。　I　have　to　tell　someone；〃　she　said。　〃I　came　because　I　wanted　to　tell　Jim…to　tell　him　that　I　think　he's　wrong；　and　he's　going　to　have　to　make　a　choice。　He's　got　to　quit　wanting　a　million　dollars。　He　has　to。　I've　e　all　the　way　out　here。　He　has　to　understand。〃
　It　sounded　utterly　feminine　to　McKee；　the　reverse　side　of　Sara's　logic；　and　a　simpler　assignment。　A　brilliant；　ambitious　man　could　easily　enough　fail　to　make　a　fortune。　But　how　could　a　Bergen　McKee；　a　natural　on　the　treadmill；　make　himself　rich？
　And；　thinking　that；　McKee；　after　forty　hours　without　rest；　was　suddenly　asleep。
　Now　he　was　fully　awake　again。　He　pushed　himself　to　his　feet　and　surveyed　the　room。　The　floor　was　covered　with　a　heavy　deposit　of　dust。　He　could　feel　it；　flourlike；　under　the　soles　of　his　shoes。　But　the　condition　of　the　room　was　surprising。　It　was　virtually　intact。　The　roof　sagged　only　at　one　corner；　where　the　ceiling　beams　had　snapped　with　rot；　and　plaster　still　clung　to　most　of　the　lower　portion　of　the　walls。
　McKee　flaked　off　a　section　of　plaster　with　his　thumbnail；　broke　it　and　examined　it。　Inside　it　was　almost　black…a　mixture　of　animal　blood　and　caliche　clay　used　by　the　pueblo…building　people。
　It　was　stone…hard　and　would　last　for　centuries；　and　so　would　the　cedar　poles　in　the　roof　when　protected　from　weather　under　a　cliff。　But　not　for　this　many　centuries。　Left　alone；　the　roof　would　have　crumbled　long　ago　and　the　top　of　the　walls　would　have　fallen　inward。　This　ruin　must　have　been　partially　rebuilt…restored　by　one　of　the　later　pueblo　people　who　used　the　canyon　before　the　Navajos　arrived　and　drove　them　out。
　It　was　then　he　saw　the　face。　He　stood　for　a　moment　staring　at　it；　putting　together　what　it　meant；　feeling　a　sense　of　excitement　building　within　him。　The　face　was　drawn　on　the　plaster　in　something　yellow…probably　ocher。　It　was　faded　now　and　partly　missing　where　chips　of　plaster　had　fallen　away。　A　roundish　outline　with　a　topknot；　long　ears；　and　a　collar。　The　figure　was　unquestionably　a　Hopi　Kachina…either　the　Dung　Carrier　or　the　Mud　Head　Clown。　And　below　it　to　the　right　were　two　more　stylized　outlines。
　From　the　Hopi　mythology　McKee　recognized　Chowilawu；　the　spirit　of　Terrible　Power；　with　four　black…tipped　feathers　rising　vertically　from　his　squarish　head　and　a　horizontal　band　of　red　bunding　his　eyes。　The　third　head　had　been　almost　erased　by　flaking。　Only　the　dim　outline　of　a　protruding　ear　and　the　double　vertical　cheek　stripes　signifying　a　warrior　spirit　remained。　Down　the　wall　there　were　other　markings…the　zigzag　of　lightning；　bird　tracks；　the　stair…stepped　triangles　of　clouds；　and　a　row　of　phallic　symbols。　Undoubtedly；　one　of　the　Hopi　clans　had　used　this　as　a　ceremonial　kiva。
　He　stood　absolutely　silent　a　moment；　thinking；　and　then　squatted　beside　Miss　Leon　and　put　his　hand　on　her　shoulder。
　Time　to　wake　up。〃
　She　rubbed　her　arm　across　her　eyes。
　〃Very　domestic；〃　McKee　said。
　She　looked　up　at　him　and　then　pushed　herself　up　against　the　wall；　trying　to　straighten　her　tousled　hair　with　her　fingers。　〃Oh。　What　time　is　it？〃
　〃About　four　forty…five；〃　McKee　said。　〃We　shouldn't　have　wasted　all　that　time。　We　need　to　get　out　of　here。〃
　〃Out　of　here？　But　I　don't　see　how　we　can。〃　Miss　Leon　looked　up　at　the　exit　hole　in　the　roof　and　then　at　McKee。　〃What　do　you　mean？　How　can　we？〃
　〃The　Hopis　lived　in　this。　They　rebuilt　it。　Have　you　read　anything　about　how　the　Hopis　build　their　pueblos？〃　It　occurred　to　McKee　as　he　said　it　that　he　was　showing　off　and　the　thought　embarrassed　him。　Ellen　looked　puzzled。
　〃They　always　built　an　escape　hatch　at　the　bottom　of　a　wall；〃　he　explained。　〃A　hole　into　the　next　room；　and　then　they　would　fill　it　in　with　rocks　that　could　be　easily　pulled　out。　Kept　them　from　being　penned　up　in　part　of　the　structure　if　they　were　under　attack。〃
　〃Oh；〃　Ellen　said。　〃You　think　there's　a　way　out；　then。〃
　〃I　think　so。　We　can　find　out。　It　would　be　in　one　of　the　inside　corners。〃
　And　most　likely；　McKee　thought；　in　the　corner　adjoining　the　cliff。　Bracing　over　the　escape　hole　would　have　been　easier　there。
　The　corner　was　littered　with　broken　cedar　sticks。　Above；　occasional　moisture　seeping　down　the　cliff　face　had　accelerated　the　slow　work　of　decay。　The　builders　had　cut　holes　into　the　soft　stone　to　support　the　ends　of　ceiling　beams　and　here　the　rot　had　started　first。
　M