sk.everythingseventual-第80部分

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　　Her　laughter　was　dry　and　a　little　cracked　around　the　edges…Mrs。　McCurdy　was　a　great　one　to　talk　about　giving　up　the　cigarettes；　her　and　her　Winstons。　'Good　boy！　You'll　go　straight　to　the　hospital；　won't　you；　then　drive　out　to　the　house？'
　　'I　guess　so；　yeah；'　I　said。　I　saw　no　sense　in　telling　Mrs。　McCurdy　that　there　was　something　wrong　with　the　transmission　of　my　old　car；　and　it　wasn't　going　anywhere　but　the　driveway　for　the　foreseeable　future。　I'd　hitchhike　down　to　Lewiston；　then　out　to　our　little　house　in　Harlow　if　it　wasn't　too　late。　If　it　was；　I'd　snooze　in　one　of　the　hospital　lounges。　It　wouldn't　be　the　first　time　I'd　ridden　my　thumb　home　from　school。　Or　slept　sitting　up　with　my　head　leaning　against　a　Coke　machine；　for　that　matter。
　　'I'll　make　sure　the　key's　under　the　red　wheelbarrow；'　she　said。　'You　know　where　I　mean；　don't　you？'
　　'Sure。'　My　mother　kept　an　old　red　wheelbarrow　by　the　door　to　the　back　shed；　in　the　summer　it　foamed　with　flowers。　Thinking　of　it　for　some　reason　brought　Mrs。　McCurdy's　news　home　to　me　as　a　true　fact：　my　mother　was　in　the　hospital；　the　little　house　in　Harlow　where　I'd　grown　up　was　going　to　be　dark　tonight…there　was　no　one　there　to　turn　on　the　lights　after　the　sun　went　down。　Mrs。　McCurdy　could　say　she　was　young；　but　when　you're　just　twenty…one　yourself；　forty…eight　seems　ancient。
　　'Be　careful；　Alan。　Don't　speed。'
　　My　speed；　of　course；　would　be　up　to　whoever　I　hooked　a　ride　with；　and　I　personally　hoped　that　whoever　it　was　would　go　like　hell。　As　far　as　I　was　concerned；　I　couldn't　get　to　Central　Maine　Medical　Center　fast　enough。　Still；　there　was　no　sense　worrying　Mrs。　McCurdy。
　　'I　won't。　Thanks。'
　　'Wele；'　she　said。　'Your　Ma's　going　to　be　just　fine。　And　won't　she　be　some　happy　to　see　you。'
　　I　hung　up；　then　scribbled　a　note　saying　what　had　happened　and　where　I　was　going。　I　asked　Hector　Passmore；　the　more　responsible　of　my　roommates；　to　call　my　advisor　and　ask　him　to　tell　my　instructors　what　was　up　so　I　wouldn't　get　whacked　for　cutting…two　or　three　of　my　teachers　were　real　bears　about　that。　Then　I　stuffed　a　change　of　clothes　into　my　backpack；　added　my　dog…eared　copy　of　Introduction　to　Philosophy；　and　headed　out。　I　dropped　the　course　the　following　week；　although　I　had　been　doing　quite　well　in　it。　The　way　I　looked　at　the　world　changed　that　night；　changed　quite　a　lot；　and　nothing　in　my　philosophy　textbook　seemed　to　fit　the　changes。　I　came　to　understand　that　there　are　things　underneath；　you　see…underneath…and　no　book　can　explain　what　they　are。　I　think　that　sometimes　it's　best　to　just　forget　those　things　are　there。　If　you　can；　that　is。
　　
　　It's　a　hundred　and　twenty　miles　from　the　University　of　Maine　in　Orono　to　Lewiston　in　Androscoggin　County；　and　the　quickest　way　to　get　there　is　by　I…95。　The　turnpike　isn't　such　a　good　road　to　take　if　you're　hitchhiking；　though；　the　State　Police　are　apt　to　boot　anyone　they　see　off…even　if　you're　just　standing　on　the　ramp　they　give　you　the　boot…and　if　the　same　cop　catches　you　twice；　he's　apt　to　write　you　a　ticket；　as　well。　So　I　took　Route　68；　which　winds　southwest　from　Bangor。　It's　a　pretty　well…traveled　road；　and　if　you　don't　look　like　an　out…and…out　psycho；　you　can　usually　do　quite　well。　The　cops　leave　you　alone；　too；　for　the　most　part。
　　My　first　lift　was　with　a　morose　insurance　man　and　took　me　as　far　as　Newport。　I　stood　at　the　intersection　of　Route　68　and　Route　2　for　about　twenty　minutes；　then　got　a　ride　with　an　elderly　gentleman　who　was　on　his　way　to　Bowdoinham。　He　kept　grabbing　at　his　crotch　as　he　drove。　It　was　as　if　he　was　trying　to　catch　something　that　was　running　around　in　there。
　　'My　wife　allus　told　me　I'd　wind　up　in　the　ditch　with　a　knife　in　my　back　if　I　kept　on　pickin　up　hitchhikers；'　he　said；　'but　when　I　see　a　young　fella　standin　t'side　of　the　rud；　I　allus　remember　my　own　younger　days。　Rode　my　thumb　quite　a　bit；　so　I　did。　Rode　the　rods；　too。　And　lookit　this；　her　dead　four　year　and　me　still　a…goin；　driving　this　same　old　Dodge。　I　miss　her　somethin　turrible。'　He　snatched　at　his　crotch。　'Where　you　headed；　son？'
　　I　told　him　I　was　going　to　Lewiston；　and　why。
　　'That's　turrible；'　he　said。　'Your　Ma！　I'm　so　sorry！'
　　His　sympathy　was　so　strong　and　spontaneous　that　it　made　the　corners　of　my　eyes　prickle。　I　blinked　the　tears　back。　The　last　thing　in　the　world　I　wanted　was　to　burst　out　crying　in　this　old　man's　old　car；　which　rattled　and　wallowed　and　smelled　quite　strongly　of　pee。
　　'Mrs。　McCurdy…the　lady　who　called　me…said　it　isn't　that　serious。　My　mother's　still　young；　only　forty…eight。'
　　'Still！　A　stroke！'　He　was　genuinely　dismayed。　He　snatched　at　the　baggy　crotch　of　his　green　pants　again；　yanking　with　an　old　man's　oversized；　clawlike　hand。　'A　stroke's　allus　serious！　Son；　I'd　take　you　to　the　CMMC　myself…drive　you　right　up　to　the　front　door…if　I　hadn't　promised　my　brother　Ralph　I'd　take　him　up　to　the　nursin　home　in　Gates。　His　wife's　there；　she　has　that　forgettin　disease；　I　can't　think　what　in　the　world　they　call　it；　Anderson's　or　Alvarez　or　somethin　like　that…'
　　'Alzheimer's；'　I　said。
　　'Ayuh；　prob'ly　I'm　gettin　it　myself。　Hell；　I'm　tempted　to　take　you　anyway。'
　　'You　don't　need　to　do　that；'　I　said。　'I　can　get　a　ride　from　Gates　easy。'
　　'Still；'　he　said。　'Your　mother！　A　stroke！　Only　forty…eight！'　He　grabbed　at　the　baggy　crotch　of　his　pants。　'Fuckin　truss！'　he　cried；　then　laughed…the　sound　was　both　desperate　and　amused。　'Fuckin　rupture！　If　you　stick　around；　son；　all　your　works　start　fallin　apart。　God　kicks　your　ass　in　the　end；　let　me　tell　you。　But　you're　a　good　boy　to　just　drop　everythin　and　go　to　her　like　you're　doin。'
　　'She's　a　good　Mom；'　I　said；　and　once　again　I　felt　the　tears　bite。　I　never　felt　very　homesick　when　I　went　away　to　school…a　little　bit　the　first　week；　that　was　all…but　I　felt　homesick　then。　There　was　just　me　and　her；　no　other　close　relatives。　I　couldn't　image　life　without　her。　Wasn't　too　bad；　Mrs。　McCurdy　had　said；　a　stroke；　but　not　too　bad。　Damn　old　lady　better　be　telling　the　truth；　I　thought；　she　just　better　be。
　　We　rode　in　silence　for　a　little　while。　It　wasn't　the　fast　ride　I'd　hoped　for…the　old　man　maintained　a　steady　forty…five　miles　an　hour　and　sometimes　wandered　over　the　white　line　to　sample　the　other　lane…but　it　was　a　long　ride；　and　that　was　really　just　as　good。　Highway　68　unrolled　before　us；　turning　its　way　through　miles　of　woods　and　splitting　the　little　towns　that　were　there　and　gone　in　a　slow　blink；　each　one　with　its　bar　and　its　self…service　gas　station：　New　Sharon；　Ophelia；　West　Ophelia；　Ganistan　（which　had　once　been　Afghanistan；　strange　but　true）；　Mechanic　Falls；　Castle　View；　Castle　Rock。　The　bright　blue　of　the　sky　dimmed　as　the　day　drained　out　of　it；　the　old　man　turned　on　first　his　parking　lights　and　then　his　headlights。　They　were　the　high　beams　but　he　didn't　seem　to　notice；　not　even　when　cars　ing　the　other　way　flashed　their　own　high　beams　at　him。
　　'My　sister'n…law　don't　even　remember　her　own　name；'　he　said。　'She　don't　know　aye；　yes；　no；　nor　maybe。　That's　what　that　Anderson's　Disease　does　to　you；　son。　There's　a　look　in　her　eyes　。　。　。　like　she's　sayin　'Let　me　out　of　here'　。　。　。　or　would　say　it；　if　she　could　think　of　the　words。　Do　you　know　what　I　mean？'
　　'Yes；'　I　said。　I　took　a　deep　breath　and　wondered　if　the　pee　I　smelled　was　the　old　man's　or　if　he　maybe　had　a　dog　that　rode　with　him　sometimes。　I　wondered　if　he'd　be　offended　if　I　rolled　down　my　window　a　little。　Finally　I　did。　He　didn't　seem　to　notice；　any　more　than　he　noticed　the　oning　cars　flashing　their　highs　at　him。
　　Around　seven　o'clock　we　breasted　a　hill　in　West　Gates　and　my　chauffeur　cried；　'Lookit；　son！　The　moon！　Ain't　she　a　corker？'
　　She　was　indeed　a　corker…a　huge　orange　ball　hoisting　itself　over　the　horizon。　I　thought　there　was　nevertheless　something　terrible　about　it。　It　looked　both　pregnant　and　infected。　Looking　at　the　rising　moon；　a　sudden　and　awful　thought　came　to　me：　what　if　I　got　to　the　hospital　and　my　Ma　didn't　recognize　me？　What　if　her　memory　was　gone；　pletely　shot；　and　she　didn't　know　aye；　yes；　no；　nor　maybe？　What　if　the　doctor　told　me　she'd　need　someone　to　take　care　of　her　for　the　rest　of　her　life？　That　someone　would　have　to　be　me；　of　course；　there　was　no　one　else。　Goodbye　college。　What　about　that；　friends　and　neighbors？
　　'Make　a　wish　on　it；　boyo！'　the　old　man　cried。　In　his　excitement　his　voice　grew　sharp　and　unpleasant…it　was　like　having　shards　of　glass　stuffed　into　your　ear。　He　gave　his　crotch　a　terrific　tug。　Something　in　there　made　a　snapping　sound。　I　didn't　see　how　you　could　yank　on　your　crotch　like　that　and　not　rip　your　balls　right　off　at　the　stem；　truss　or　no　truss。　'Wish　you　make　on　the　ha'vest　moon　allus　es　true；　that's　what　my　father　said！'
　　So　I　wished　that　my　mother　would　know　me　when　I　walked　into　her　room；　that　her　eyes　would　light　up　at　once　and　she　would　say　my　name。　I　made　that　wish　and　immediately　wished　I　could　have　it　back　again；　I　thought　that　no　wish　made　in　that　fevery　orange　light　could　e　to　any　good。
　　'Ah；　son！'　the　old　man　said。　'I　wish　my　wife　was　here！　I'd　beg　forgiveness　for　every　sha'ap　and　unkind　word　I　ever　said　to　her！'
　　Twenty　minutes　later；　with　the　last　light　of　the　day　still　in　the　air　and　the　moon　still　hanging　low　and　bloated　in　the　sky；　we　arrived　in　Gates　Falls。　There's　a　yellow　blinker　at　the　intersection　of　Route　68　and　Pleasant　Street。　Just　before　he　reached　it；　the　old　man　swerved　to　the　side　of　the　road；　bumping　the　Dodge's　right　front　wheel　up　over　the　curb　and　then　back　down　again。　It　rattled　my　teeth。　The　old　man　looked　at　me　with　a　kind　of　wild；　defiant　excitement…everything　about　him　was　wild；　although　I　hadn't　seen　that　at　first；　everything　about　him　had　that　broken…glass　feeling。　And　everything　that　came　out　of　his　mouth　seemed　to　be　an　exclamation。
　　'I'll　take　you　up　there！　I　will；　yessir！　Never　mind　Ralph！　Hell　with　him！　You　just　say　the　word！'
　　I　wanted　to　get　to　my　mother；　but　the　thought　of　another　twenty　miles　with　the　smell　of　piss　in　the　air　and　cars　flashing　their　brights　at　us　wasn't　very　pleasant。　Neither　was　the　image　of　the　old　fellow　wandering　and　weaving　across　four　lanes　of　Lisbon　Street。　Mostly；　though；　it　was　him。　I　couldn't　stand　another　twenty　miles　of　crotch…snatching　and　that　excited　broken…glass　v