pzb.lostsouls-第20部分

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nd　mind　stunned。　Steve　had　never　hit　her。　No　one　but　her　father　had　ever　hit　her。　Her　cheek　and　jaw　went　numb；　then　began　to　tingle。　Steve　would　beg　her　forgiveness；　surely。　But　he　stood　over　her；　his　dark　eyes　blazing；　and　when　she　tried　to　struggle　up　he　planted　the　sole　of　his　boot　square　in　her　crotch　and　shoved　hard。　A　lick　of　pain　shot　through　her。
　　〃You　cunt；〃　Steve　said。　His　voice　was　quiet；　inflectionless。　〃I　know　how　to　make　sure　you　won't　do　any　more　fucking　around　for　a　while。〃
　　And　Steve's　hands　went　to　his　belt　buckle。
　　Ann　threw　herself　back　against　the　wall。　Suddenly　Steve　was　on　the　bed　with　her；　pinning　her　there；　trapping　her。　She　thrashed　against　him　and　felt　him　getting　hard。　Seeing　him　excited　by　her　terror　scared　her　worse；　made　her　limp。　She　kept　trying　to　push　him　away；　but　she　was　weak　now；　and　he　was　so　strong。
　　He　yanked　her　skirt　up；　thrust　two　guitar…callused　fingers　into　her　vagina。　They　were　dry　and　felt　as　if　they　would　tear　her　open。　Now　he　had　her　hips　pinned　beneath　his。　His　jeans　were　down　around　his　knees。　His　cock　was　shoving　at　her；　battering　into　her。　She　felt　it　thrusting　through　her　dryness　up　into　the　unwilling　heart　of　her　womb；　and　most　of　her　did　not　want　it　there…but　it　was　Steve；　and　he　had　always　fit　inside　her　so　damn　well；　and　almost　before　she　realized　it　she　was　ing。　ing　against　her　will；　ing　in　pain　and　humiliation；　but　ing　hard　nonetheless。
　　Steve　mistook　the　throes　of　her　orgasm　for　struggles　and　thrust　her　arms　back　against　the　mattress。　His　big　hands　were　like　vises　around　her　wrists。　Ann　felt　delicate　bones　grinding　together；　in　a　moment　she　thought　they　might　snap。　She　threw　her　head　to　the　side　and　sank　her　teeth　into　the　ball　of　his　thumb　until　she　tasted　blood。　Now　he　was　pounding　into　her　so　hard　that　he　didn't　seem　to　notice　the　pain…but　his　grip　loosened　a　little；　and　then　he　was　shuddering　to　his　own　violent　orgasm；　and　the　rape　was　over。
　　〃There；〃　he　breathed；　lifting　his　head　to　stare　into　her　stricken　face。　〃There。　See　how　you　like　fucking　your　new　boyfriend　now。〃
　　After　he　had　stormed　out　and　roared　away　in　his　car；　she　wondered　why　she　felt　so　dirty。
　　That　had　happened　more　than　a　month　ago；　and　it　was　the　last　time　she　had　seen　Steve。　She　knew　he　had　tried　to　call　a　couple　of　times…or　someone　had　called　at　3：00　A。M。　and　hung　up　when　she　answered…but　she　did　not　care；　could　not　care。　She　made　Eliot　her　refuge；　her　sanctuary。　He　was　se　good　to　her　that　she　grew　impatient　with　him；　then　pletely　sick　of　him。　But　she　could　not　let　go。　She　was　afraid　of　that　empty　space　in　her　life。　She　was　afraid　she　might　let　Steve　fill　it　again；　and　that　would　kill　her　shaky　serf…respect　forever。
　　She　nestled　deeper　into　her　pillows　and　contemplated　going　back　to　sleep。　These　days　it　was　not　unusual　for　her　to　sleep　fourteen　or　fifteen　hours　at　a　stretch。　She　was　just　drifting　off　again　when　the　doorbell　rang。　She　tried　to　ignore　it。　The　sound　lingered　in　her　ears；　made　her　heart　pound。　〃Go　away；〃　she　whispered。
　　The　bell　rang　again。　Ann　swore；　and　as　if　in　response　it　rang　a　third　time。　She　swung　her　legs　over　the　side　of　the　bed；　fought　off　a　headrush　that　made　the　room　spin　giddily　around　her；　and　went　with　great　reluctance　to　see　who　was　at　her　door。
　　
　　The　boards　of　the　old　wooden　porch　shined　uneasily　under　Ghost's　feet。　The　Bransby　house　was　a　Victorian　monstrosity　gone　to　seed；　its　paint　peeling；　its　edges　softening。　He　had　not　called　before　riding　his　bike　over　here　because　he　was　afraid　Ann　might　refuse　to　see　him；　but　he　knew　by　her　beat…up　little　car　in　the　driveway　that　she　was　home。　He　also　knew　that　her　father　was　gone；　probably　to　an　AA　meeting　or　to　the　library　over　in　Corinth；　the　only　places　he　ever　went　that　anyone　knew　about。　That　was　good。　Ghost　had　always　been　a　little　scared　of　Simon　Bransby。
　　He　was　trying　to　decide　whether　to　leave　or　ring　the　bell　again　when　he　beard　steps　inside　the　house　…slow；　dragging　steps；　in　no　hurry　to　reach　the　door。　Eventually　Ghost　heard　Ann　fumbling　with　the　chain。　Then　the　tumblers　of　the　lock　slid　back；　and　she　stood　in　the　doorway；　leaning　against　the　jamb；　her　face　half　obscured　in　the　gloom　of　the　foyer。
　　At　first　Ghost　thought　Ann　had　two　black　eyes。　But　as　she　blinked　at　him；　he　realized　it　was　only　her　makeup；　smeared　around　her　eyes　as　if　she　had　slept　in　it。　In　fact；　though　it　was　two　in　the　afternoon；　she　looked　as　if　she　might　have　just　woken　up。　Her　long　autumn…colored　hair　was　tangled。　Her　black　dress　was　rumpled　and　hastily　buttoned。
　　For　a　long　moment　Ann　stared　at　Ghost；　his　rainbow…painted　bicycle　beside　him　on　the　porch；　the　colored　streamers　tied　to　the　brim　of　his　old　straw　hat。　She　looked　as　if　she　might　burst　out　crying　or　slam　the　door　in　his　face。　But　at　last　she　moved　aside　and　said；　〃e　on　in。〃
　　Without　another　word；　she　turned　and　walked　back　down　the　hall；　away　from　him。　Ghost　shut　the　door　behind　him　and　followed。　To　the　left　was　the　dusty　parlor；　where　several　weeks'　worth　of　newspapers　were　strewn　about　the　floor　and　heavy　draperies　were　closed　against　the　day。　Ghost　wondered　who　had　drawn　them…Simon？　Or　had　it　been　Ann；　who　used　to　keep　the　house　sunny　and　clean？
　　To　the　right　was　the　half…open　door　of　Simon's　laboratory。　Ghost　tried　not　to　look；　but　the　dull　gleam　of　sunlight　on　glass　caught　his　eye…the　test　tubes；　the　aquariums；　the　vials　of　weird　fluid。　He'd　been　in　there　a　couple　of　times　with　Steve；　though　Ann's　friends　were　not　supposed　to　go　in　the　room。　The　contents　of　the　aquariums　were　innocuous　enough　…toads　and　mice…but　the　laboratory　felt　like　a　place　of　pain。　And　there　was　a　big　refrigerator　with　a　chain　and　padlock　on　it。　Even　Ann　didn't　know　what　was　in　there。
　　Ann　reached　the　kitchen　table　and　propped　herself　against　it　for　a　moment；　then　collapsed　into　a　chair。　〃Make　some　coffee；　would　you；〃　she　said。　Ann's　voice　was　hoarser　than　usual；　nearly　toneless。　She　curled　her　bare　toes　around　the　rung　of　her　chair。　Her　red　toenail　polish　was　chipped　and　faded；　as　though　she　had　not　redone　it　for　weeks。
　　Ghost　found　the　coffee　in　the　freezer　and　started　making　it。　He　used　only　his　grandmother's　old　Corningware　drip　pot　at　home；　and　he　had　already　put　water　on　to　boil　before　he　realized　that　the　Bransby　kitchen　had　an　automatic　coffee　maker。　It　took　him　several　minutes　to　figure　out　where　the　coffee　went　and　where　to　pour　the　cold　water　in。
　　〃You're　not　a　part　of　the　machine　age；　Ghost；〃　said　Ann。　She　lit　a　Camel　and　narrowed　her　eyes　at　him　through　the　smoke。　At　last　she　asked；　〃Why　did　you　e　over？〃　
　　〃I　just　wanted　to　see　how　you　were　doing。〃　
　　〃Oh？　And　how　am　I　doing？〃　
　　〃You　look　bad。〃
　　Ann　gazed　levelly　at　him。　〃Thanks。　You　look　a　little　spooky　yourself。〃
　　〃You　know　that's　not　what　I　mean。〃　Ghost　pulled　the　coffeepot　out　from　under　the　drip…spout　too　soon。　Hot　coffee　hissed　against　the　burner；　and　he　hurriedly　put　the　pot　back。　〃You're　beautiful；　Ann。　But　you　look　sad。　Twitchy。　You　look　like　those　kids　you　used　to　make　fun　of　at　the　Sacred　Yew…black　clothes；　black　eyes；　dead　white　skin。　What　are　you　doing？〃
　　〃I'm　in　mourning；〃　she　said。　〃I'm　mourning　the　death　of　a　relationship。〃　She　got　up　and　pushed　him　away　from　the　coffee　maker；　expertly　slid　the　pot　out；　and　poured　them　each　a　cup。　Ghost　put　lots　of　milk　and　sugar　in　his。　Ann　left　hers　black；　which　meant　she　was　doing　some　kind　of　penance。　Ghost　knew　she　hated　black　coffee。
　　〃Steve　told　me　he　hadn't　seen　you　for　over　a　month；〃　he　said。　She　flinched　at　the　name；　but　he　made　himself　go　on。　〃Things　must　not　be　too　good　with　your　new　guy　if　you're　still　in　mourning。〃　It　was　out：　he　had　crossed　over　into　territory　that　was　officially　None　of　His　Business。
　　〃Look；　Ghost。〃　Ann　swung　around　in　her　chair；　faced　him。　〃I　worked　last　night；　okay？　I　was　at　that　shitty　restaurant　until　midnight。　Then　I　drove　out　to　Corinth　to　see　Eliot…more　precisely；　to　fuck　Eliot。　We　fucked　until　four　in　the　morning　because　that's　about　all　we　can　do　together　anymore。　Then　I　had　to　drive　back　here　because　Simon　usually　wakes　up　around　six；　and　he　gets　crazy　if　I'm　not　home。　So　I've　spent　the　last　twenty…four　hours　doing　two　things　you　don't　know　much　about…working　and　fucking。　I'm　tired。　Now　lay　off　me。〃
　　〃Okay；〃　Ghost　said　quietly。　The　attack　on　his　areas　of　ignorance　didn't　sting　much；　but　the　reference　to　fucking　Eliot　did；　because　he　knew　it　would　drive　Steve　up　the　wall。　〃I'll　leave　if　that's　what　you　want。　I　brought　you　something；　though。〃　He　put　a　cassette　on　the　table　next　to　Ann's　coffee　cup。　The　words　LOST　SOULS？　were　printed　in　multicolored　crayon　on　the　liner。
　　Ann　stared　at　the　tape；　then　up　at　him。　Her　tough　posure　wavered。　Her　carefully　arranged　expression　began　to　crumble。　〃Oh；　Ghost。。。〃　She　picked　up　the　tape　and　pressed　it　to　her　lips。　A　couple　of　stray　tears　made　crystal　tracks　through　the　smudged　black　makeup。　〃I　miss　you。　I　even　miss　Steve。　But　I　can't　go　back。〃
　　〃I　know。〃　He　knew　some　of　what　had　happened　between　them；　not　all。　Steve　hadn't　told　him　everything；　but　most　of　it　got　through　anyway。　And　the　rest…well；　he　guessed　he　could　see　it　now；　in　Ann's　deathly　pale　face；　in　her　smudgy；　haunted　eyes。
　　She　and　Steve　had　always　been　stormy　together。　Steve　had　blithely　dated　his　way　through　high　school；　getting　laid　but　never　quite　getting　involved。　His　tastes　were　diverse。　The　only　girls　he　couldn't　stomach　were　the　ones　who　seemed　to　make　themselves　up　according　to　some　redneck　template；　with　the　bleached…blond　bubble　hairdo；　the　feverish　streak　of　blush　across　the　cheeks；　and　the　eyeshadow　of　colors　never　seen　in　nature。　He　had　casual　girlfriends　of　all　other　types：　hippies　who　liked　to　get　stoned　with　him；　preppies　who　thought　him　wild　and　slightly　dangerous；　smart　girls　who　appreciated　his　pulsive　reading　habit。
　　But　Ann　was　the　first　one　he　had　fallen　for。　In　her　way；　Ann　loved　Steve　as　fiercely　as　she　loved　her　weird　father；　and　Steve　wanted　her　more　than　he　had　wanted　anything　since　he　had　learned　to　play　the　guitar。　But　one　of　the　first　things　that　had　drawn　them　to　each　other　was　also　one　of　the　first　things　to　start　tearing　them　apart。　They　both　pretended　to　be　so　tough　and　cynical　that　there　was　no　room