thedestroyer.slavesafari-第14部分

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　in　that　name；　paying　cash　and　rebuffing　efforts　by　the　motel　clerk　to　engage　him　in　conversation。
　Butler　checked　the　room。　The　door　locks　satisfied　　him。　He　tossed　his　small　traveling　bag　on　the　bed　and　returned　to　the　car。
　For　an　hour；　he　cruised　the　streets　of　Norfolk；　looking　for　a　person。　It　had　to　be　a　special　kind　of　person。
　Finally；　he　found　her。　She　was　a　tall　willowy　blonde　with　ashen　hair。　She　stood　on　a　corner　near　a　traffic　light　in　the　time…honored　fashion　of　whores　everywhere…ready　to　cross　the　street　if　a　police　car　came　along；　but　willing　to　stand　there　forever　if　the　fuzz　didn't　e；　or　at　least　until　the　right　kind　of　man　came　along　in　the　right　kind　of　car。
　Butler　saw　her；　quickly　drove　the　rented　Buick　around　the　block；　then　timed　it　so　that　he　rolled　up　in　front　of　her　as　the　traffic　light　turned　red。
　The　girl　looked　at　him　through　the　windshield　and　Butler　pressed　the　button　that　unlocked　the　car　doors。　The　heavy；　clicking　sound　was　another　universal　signal。　The　girl　came　over；　leaned　on　the　door　and　stuck　her　head　inside　the　open　window；　carefully　glancing　into　the　back　seat　first。　She　was　just　about　the　right　size　and　age；　Butler　guessed。　The　coloration　looked　about　right　also。
　〃Want　to　party？〃　she　said。
　〃Sure；〃　Butler　said。
　〃Go　down　for　　15；　straight　for　25。〃
　〃You　go　all　night？〃　Butler　asked。　He　thought　it　odd　that　the　words　and　phrases　of　the　street　came　back　to　him　so　easily；　almost　as　if　they　had　never　left　his　mind。
　〃Naah；〃　the　girl　said。　〃All　night's　a　bummer。〃
　〃Three　hundred　dollars　make　it　more　pleasant？〃　Butler　asked；　knowing　that　the　figure　was　outrageous　and　could　have　hired　the　best　efforts　of　any　three　girls　on　the　block。
　〃You　got　three　hundred？〃　
　Butler　nodded。
　〃Let's　see　it。〃
　〃Get　in　and　I'll　show　you。〃
　The　girl　opened　the　door　and　slid　into　the　front　seat　next　to　Butler。　The　light　was　green　and　he　turned　the　corner　and　pulled　up　into　a　spot　near　an　all…night　bookstand。
　Butler　reached　his　wallet　from　his　pocket　and　took　out　three　one…hundred…dollar　bills；　making　sure　that　the　girl　got　a　look　at　the　remaining　fat　wad　of　bills　in　the　wallet。　He　held　the　three　up　in　front　of　the　girl。
　〃Payment　in　advance；〃　she　said　warily。
　〃Two　hundred　now；〃　he　said。　〃You　can　stash　it。　The　other　hundred　after。〃
　〃How　e　you're　so　eager？〃　she　said。
　〃Look。　I'm　no　freak。　No　whips；　none　of　that　shit。　I　just　like　white　women。　If　you're　good　to　me；　there's　another　hundred　in　it　that　nobody　has　to　know　about。〃
　She　looked　at　Butler's　face　again；　hard　this　time；　obviously　trying　to　fit　him　into　one　of　her　danger　categories　of　fuzz；　freaks　and　fighters；　but　he　didn't　match。　〃Okay；〃　she　said；　〃wait　here。　I'm　going　to　drop　off　the　two　hundred　and　I'll　be　right　back。〃
　Butler　nodded。　He　wouldn't　trust　a　prostitute　out　of　sight　for　any　reason　but　money；　so　he　had　made　a　point　of　showing　her　all　the　cash　in　his　wallet　and　her　little　brain　already　was　working　overtime；　he　knew；　trying　to　figure　out　how　to　get　more　out　of　him　than　the　four　hundred　dollars　already　promised。　She　would　be　back　as　soon　as　she　gave　the　two　hundred　to　her　pimp。
　Three　minutes　later　she　returned　and　as　she　slid　into　the　front　seat　she　grabbed　him。
　〃My　name's　Thelma；〃　she　said。　〃What's　yours？〃　
　〃Simon；〃　he　said。　〃I've　already　got　a　room。〃　He　snapped　the　door　locks　shut　and　drove　off。
　Ten　minutes　later；　they　were　in　Butler's　motel　room。　Twenty　minutes　later；　she　was　tied；　gagged；　drugged　and　lying　on　the　floor　behind　the　bed；　not　visible　from　the　window　and　out　of　reach　of　the　telephone。　The　last　was　an　unnecessary　precaution　because　she　would　be　out　for　the　rest　of　the　night
　Butler　looked　at　her　one　more　time　before　leaving　the　room　and　he　was　satisfied。　The　size　was　right；　the　hair　coloring　about　right。　It　wouldn't　be　perfect；　it　certainly　might　not　fool　anyone　for　too　long；　but　it　should　do。　It　would　buy　enough　time。
　He　whistled　as　he　drove　out　through　（the　hot　city　into　the　rolling　fox…hunting　hills　of　rich…bitch　Virginia。
　He　drove　the　road　three　times　before　he　found　the　cutoff　to　the　long　winding　drive　that　led　to　the　Butler　estate。　With　his　headlights　out；　and　after　sitting　in　the　dark　for　a　moment；　he　could　see　the　main　house　high　up　on　a　hill；　two　hundred　yards　from　the　road。　He　decided　not　to　drive　up；　the　roadway　was　probably　hooked　up　to　an　alarm。　He　cruised　slowly　down　the　highway　for　another　hundred　yards；　found　a　deep　shoulder　off　the　road　covered　by　an　overhang　of　trees；　and　drove　in。
　He　closed　the　car　up；　checked　his　pockets　to　make　sure　he　had　his　materials　and　then　set　across　the　razor…cut　lawns　of　the　Butler　estate　toward　the　big　house　on　the　hill；　keeping　close　to　the　line　of　trees　at　the　property's　northern　end。
　As　he　loped；　he　glanced　at　the　luminous　dial　of　his　wristwatch。　Cutting　it　close；　but　still　enough　time。
　The　grass　oozed　up　a　damp　coolness　that　enveloped　him　as　he　moved；　and　he　imagined　himself　in　an　earlier　day；　trudging　barefooted　along　these　hills；　dressed　perhaps　in　a　monkey　suit；　bringing　drinks　to　Massa　on　the　patio。　When　had　it　happened？　When　had　he　e　to　hate　so？
　He　moved　in　a　rhythmic　trot；　his　giant　athlete's　body　swinging　free　and　easy；　the　way　he　used　to　on　the　grass　covered　fields　of　football；　when　he　performed　in　the　big　open…air　cage　for　the　whites　lucky　enough　to　have　a　friend　who　could　help　them　get　season's　tickets。
　No　matter　when　he　started　to　hate。　He　hated。　That　was　enough　of　an　answer；　but　then　he　remembered。　King　Kong　was　why　he　hated。
　Butler　had　had　a　particularly　bitter　argument　with　his　sister；　had　gone　out　into　the　New　York　night；　and　somehow　had　wound　up　listening　to　a　free　lecture　on　racism　~　at　the　New　School　for　Social　Research。
　The　lecturer　was　one　of　that　roving　band　of　non…teaching　teachers　who　make　a　headline　with　one　interesting；　if　erroneous；　statement　and　then　milk　it　for　lecture　fees　at　campuses　for　the　next　twenty　years。　The　lecturer　began　to　talk　about　racism　hi　the　films；　drawing　unsupported　conclusions　from　unsubstantiated　data；　to　the　growing　applause　of　the　two　hundred　people；　mostly　white；　in　the　audience。
　Then　the　house　lights　dimmed　and　film　clips　from　the　old　King　Kong　classic　began　to　be　shown　on　the　screen。　There　were　five　minutes　of　the　giant　ape　terrorizing　Fay　Wray　in　the　jungle；　then　climbing　the　Empire　State　Building　with　her　in　his　giant　hand；　then　standing　there　atop　the　building　until　he　was　gunned　down　by　the　fighter　planes。
　The　speaker　seemed　to　want　to　match　the　auditorium　darkness　with　the　lack　of　light　in　his　own　analysis。
　King　Kong；　he　said；　was　just　a　thinly　veiled　attack　by　while　filmmakers　on　black　sexuality；　a　pandering…to　the　redneck's　fear　of　the　potent　black　man。　The　leering　expressions　of　King　Kong　as　he　lifted　the　white　girl　up　in　his　giant　black　hand；　his　mindless；　headlong；　unswerving　search　for　her　which　typified　the　mythical　lust　of　black　men　for　white　women；　and　the　cheaply　symbolic　end　where　King　Kong　was　shot　down　while　hanging　on　to　the　building's　phallic　symbol　of　a　tower；　thus　signifying　that　the　black　man　would　be　done　in　by　his　erect　phallus…all　these　were　cited　as　proofs　by　the　speaker。
　Butler　looked　around　the　auditorium　at　the　heads　nodding　up　and　down　in　agreement。
　And　these　were　the　liberals；　he　thought；　the　best　hope　of　blacks　in　America…and　not　one　of　them　questioned；　for　even　a　moment；　their　own　willingness　to　equate　a　giant　movie　monkey　with　a　black　man。　Didn't　they　teach　anthropology　in　the　schools　any　more？　Didn't　they　teach　anything？　The　ape　was　hairy；　and　blacks　were　hairless。　Blacks　had　thick　lips；　but　apes　had　no　lips　at　all。　And　yet　these　looney…tunes　could　believe　that　people　would　find　blacks　and　apes　interchangeable。　Why　could　they　believe　that　of　others；　if　they　didn't　really　know　it　of　themselves？
　And　they　were　supposed　to　be　the　best　America　had　to　offer。
　Butler　had　left　the　auditorium　convinced　by　the　speaker　of　just　one　thing：　his　sister　had　been　right　and　he　had　been　wrong。　It　would　take　confrontation　and　possibly　violence　to　get　what　the　black　man　deserved　in　America。
　Butler　tried。　Then　came　that　visit　to　the　Lord　village；　when　William　Forsythe　Butler　had　known　that　he　had　e　home。　He　heard　the　legend　of　the　Loni　and　knew　that　he…he　alone…could　be　the　redeemer　of　that　legend；　that　he　could　use　the　Loni　to　take　over　power　in　Busati　and　show　what　a　black　man　could　do　with　a　government　if　given　half　a　chance。
　He　was　at　the　house　now。　It　was　dark　and　silent。　He　was　glad　there　were　no　dogs。　Willie　Butler　was　afraid　of　dogs。
　He　paused　close　to　the　wall　of　the　house；　looking　around　him；　remembering　the　floor　plan　that　had　been　outlined　to　him　by　a　researcher；　who　had　found　it　hi　the　Library　of　Congress；　under　Historical　Homes　of　Virginia。　The　girl's　room　would　be　second　floor　front　right　He　looked　up。　Latticework；　buried　under　vines；　covered　the　front　of　the　big　building。　He　hoped　the　thin　wood　would　hold　his　weight。
　Butler　tested　it　by　reaching　up；　grabbing　a　piece　of　wood　with　his　right　hand；　and　lifting　his　feet　off　the　ground。
　He　hung　there　suspended　by　his　right　hand　momentarily；　the　wood　was　anchored　and　strong。　He　grunted　softly　to　himself　and　then　began　climbing　the　latticework　like　a　ladder。　The　window　to　the　second　floor　bedroom　was　unlocked　and　open　slightly　at　the　top。　Inside　he　could　hear　the　faint　whirring　of　central　air　conditioning　breathing　coolness　into　the　room。
　The　night　was　black　as　a　railroad　tunnel　at　midnight；　and　the　inside　of　the　bedroom　seemed　to　be　brightly　lighted　by　the　small　lamp　built　into　the　light　switch　near　the　door。
　In　the　bed；　under　a　shiny　sheet；　he　could　make　out　a　woman's　form。　That　should　be　Hillary　Butler。
　Holding　onto　the　latticework　with　one　hand；　Butler　inched　the　bottom　window　up　until　it　was　fully　opened。　Then　he　carefully　stepped　into　the　room；　his　shoes　sinking　deeply　into　the　plush　velvet　carpet　that　covered　the　floor。　He　paused；　sipping　his　breath　carefully　through　his　nose；　trying　to　make　no　sound；　then　moved　toward　the　bed；　the　foot；　around　the　side。　He　could　see　the　girl's　face　now。　It　was　Hillary　Butler；　sleeping　the　dreamy　sleep　of　the　peaceful…with…the…world。　That　she　slept　in　this　air…conditioned　room　under　that　satin　sheet　b