cb.damnationgame-第50部分

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my　life…and　I　realized　I　knew　nothing　about　him。　He　was　still　the　mythical　card…player　I'd　met　in　Warsaw。〃　〃Did　you　ever　ask　him？〃　〃Ask　him　what？〃　〃Who　he　was？　Where　he　came　from？　How　he　got　his　skills？〃　〃Oh；　yes；　I　asked　him。　On　each　occasion　the　answer　was　a　little　different　from　the　time　before。〃　〃So　he　was　lying　to　you？〃　〃Quite　blatantly。　It　was　a　sort　of　joke；　I　think：　his　idea　of　a　party　piece；　never　to　be　the　same　person　twice。　As　if　he　didn't　quite　exist。　As　if　this　man　called　Mamoulian　was　a　construction；　covering　something　else　altogether。〃　〃What？〃　Whitehead　shrugged。　〃I　don't　know。　Evangeline　used　to　say：　he's　empty。　That　was　what　she　found　foul　about　him。　It　wasn't　his　presence　in　the　house　that　distressed　her；　it　was　his　absence；　the　nullity　of　him。　And　I　began　to　think　maybe　I'd　be　better　getting　rid　of　him；　for　Evangeline's　sake。　All　the　lessons　he　had　to　teach　me　I'd　learned。　I　didn't　need　him　anymore。
　　〃Besides；　he'd　bee　a　social　embarrassment。　God；　when　I　think　back　I　wonder…I　really　wonder…how　we　let　him　rule　us　for　so　long。　He'd　sit　at　the　dinner　table　and　you　could　feel　the　spell　of　depression　he'd　cast　on　the　guests。　And　the　older　he　got　the　more　his　talk　was　all　futility。
　　〃Not　that　he　visibly　aged；　he　didn't。　He　doesn't　look　a　year　older　now　than　when　I　first　met　him。〃　〃No　change　at　all？〃　〃Not　physically。　There's　something　altered　maybe。　He's　got　an　air　of　defeat　about　him　now。〃　〃He　didn't　seem　defeated　to　me。〃　〃You　should　have　seen　him　in　his　prime。　He　was　terrifying　then；　believe　me。　People　would　fall　silent　when　he　stepped　through　the　door：　he　seemed　to　soak　up　the　joy　in　anyone；　kill　it　on　the　spot。　It　got　to　the　point　where　Evangeline　couldn't　bear　to　be　in　the　same　room　with　him。　She　got　paranoid　about　him　plotting　to　kill　her　and　the　child。　She　had　somebody　sit　with　Carys　every　night；　to　make　certain　that　he　didn't　touch　her。　e　to　think　of　it；　it　was　Evangeline　who　first　coaxed　me　into　buying　the　dogs。　She　knew　he　had　an　abhorrence　of　them。〃　〃But　you　didn't　do　as　she　asked？　I　mean；　you　didn't　throw　him　out。〃　〃Oh；　I　knew　I'd　have　to　act　sooner　or　later；　I　just　lacked　the　balls　to　do　it。　Then　he　started　petty　power　games；　just　to　prove　I　still　needed　him。　It　was　a　tactical　error。　The　novelty　value　of　an　in…house　puritan　had　worn　very　thin。　I　told　him　so。　Told　him　he'd　have　to　change　his　whole　demeanor　or　go。　He　refused；　of　course。　I　knew　he　would。　All　I　wanted　was　an　excuse　to　break　our　association　off；　and　he　gave　it　to　me　on　a　plate。　Looking　back；　of　course；　I　realize　he　knew　damn　well　what　I　was　doing。　Anyway；　the　upshot　was…I　threw　him　out。　Well；　not　me　personally。　Toy　did　the　deed。〃　〃Toy　worked　for　you　personally？〃　〃Oh；　yes。　Again；　it　was　Evangeline's　idea：　she　was　always　so　protective　of　me。　She　suggested　I　hire　a　bodyguard。　I　chose　Toy。　He'd　been　a　boxer；　and　he　was　as　honest　as　the　day's　long。　He　was　always　unimpressed　by　Mamoulian。　Never　had　the　least　qualm　about　speaking　his　mind。　So　when　I　told　him　to　get　rid　of　the　man；　he　did　just　that。　I　came　home　one　day　and　the　card…player　had　gone。
　　〃I　breathed　easy　that　day。　It　was　as　though　I'd　been　wearing　a　stone　around　my　neck　and　not　known　it。　Suddenly　it　was　gone：　I　was　lightheaded。
　　〃Any　fears　I'd　had　about　the　consequences　proved　utterly　groundless。　My　fortune　didn't　evaporate。　I　was　as　successful　as　ever　without　him。　More　so；　perhaps。　I　found　new　confidence。〃　〃And　you　didn't　see　him　again？〃　〃Oh；　no；　I　saw　him。　He　came　back　to　the　house　twice；　each　time　unannounced。　Things　hadn't　gone　well　for　him；　it　seemed。　I　don't　know　what　it　was；　but　he'd　lost　the　magic　touch　somehow。　The　first　time　he　came　back　he　was　so　decrepit　I　scarcely　recognized　him。　He　looked　ill；　he　smelled　foul。　If　you'd　seen　him　in　the　street　you'd　have　crossed　over　the　road　to　avoid　him。　I　could　scarcely　credit　the　transformation。　He　didn't　want　even　to　step　into　the　house…not　that　I　would　have　let　him…all　he　wanted　was　money；　which　I　gave　him；　and　then　he　went　away。〃　〃And　it　was　genuine？〃　〃What　do　you　mean；　genuine？〃　〃The　beggar　performance：　it　was　real；　was　it？　I　mean；　it　wasn't　another　story　。　。　。　？〃　Whitehead　raised　his　eyebrows。　〃All　these　years　。　。　。　I　never　thought　of　that。　Always　assumed　。　。　。〃　He　stopped；　and　began　again　on　a　different　tack。　〃You　know；　I'm　not　a　sophisticated　man；　despite　appearances　to　the　contrary。　I'm　a　thief。　My　father　was　a　thief；　and　probably　his　father　too。　All　this　culture　I　surround　myself　with；　it's　a　facade。　Things　I've　picked　up　from　other　people。　Received　good　taste；　if　you　like。
　　〃But　after　a　few　years　you　begin　to　believe　your　own　publicity；　you　begin　to　think　you　actually　are　a　sophisticate；　a　man　of　the　world。　You　start　to　be　ashamed　of　the　instincts　that　got　you　where　you　are；　because　they're　part　of　an　embarrassing　history。　That's　what　happened　to　me。　I　lost　any　sense　of　what　I　was。〃　〃Well；　I　think　it's　time　the　thief　had　his　say　again：　time　I　started　to　use　his　eyes；　his　instinct。　You　taught　me　that；　though　Christ　knows　you　weren't　aware　of　it。〃　Me？〃　〃We're　the　same。　Don't　you　see？　Both　thieves。　Both　victims。〃　The　self…pity　in　Whitehead's　pronouncement　was　too　much。　〃You　can't　tell　me　you're　a　victim；〃　Marty　said；　〃the　way　you've　lived。〃　〃What　do　you　know　about　my　feelings？〃　Whitehead　snapped　back。　〃Don't　presume；　you　hear　me？　Don't　think　you　understand；　because　you　don't！　He　took　everything　away　from　me；　everything！　First　Evangeline；　then　Toy；　now　Carys。　Don't　tell　me　whether　I've　suffered　or　not！〃　〃What　do　you　mean；　he　took　Evangeline？　I　thought　she　died　in　an　accident？〃　Whitehead　shook　his　head。　〃There's　a　limit　to　what　I　can　tell　you；〃　he　said。　〃Some　things　I　can't　express。　Never　will。〃　The　voice　was　ashen。　Marty　let　the　point　go；　and　moved　on。
　　〃You　said　he　came　back　twice。〃　〃That's　right。　He　came　again；　a　year　or　two　after　his　first　visit。　Evangeline　wasn't　at　home　that　night。　It　was　November。　Toy　answered　the　door；　I　remember；　and　though　I　hadn't　heard　Mamoulian's　voice　I　knew　it　was　him。　I　went　into　the　hallway。　He　was　standing　on　the　step；　in　the　porch　light。　It　was　drizzling。　I　can　see　him　now；　the　way　his　eyes　found　me。　‘Am　I　wele？〃　he　said。　Just　stood　there　and　said；　‘Am　I　wele？〃〃　〃I　don't　know　why；　but　I　let　him　in。　He　didn't　look　in　bad　shape。　Maybe　I　thought　he'd　e　to　apologize；　I　can't　remember。　Even　then　I　would　have　been　friends　with　him；　if　he'd　offered。　Not　on　the　old　basis。　As　business　acquaintances；　perhaps。　I　let　my　defenses　down。　We　started　talking　about　the　past　together〃…Whitehead　chewed　the　memory　over；　trying　to　get　a　better　taste　of　it…〃and　then　he　started　to　tell　me　how　lonely　he　was；　how　he　needed　my　panionship。　I　told　him　Warsaw　was　a　long　time　gone。　I　was　a　married　man；　a　pillar　of　the　munity；　and　I　had　no　intention　of　changing　my　ways。　He　started　to　get　abusive：　accused　me　of　ingratitude。　Said　I'd　cheated　him。　Broken　the　covenant　between　us。　I　told　him　there'd　never　been　a　covenant；　I'd　just　won　a　game　of　cards　once；　in　a　distant　city；　and　as　a　result；　he'd　chosen　to　help　me；　for　his　own　reasons。　I　said　I　felt　I'd　acceded　to　his　demands　sufficiently　to　feel　that　any　debt　to　him　had　been　paid。　He'd　shared　my　house；　my　friends；　my　life　for　a　decade：　everything　that　I　had；　had　been　his　to　share。　‘It's　not　enough；〃　he　said；　and　he　began　again：　the　same　pleas　as　before；　the　same　demands　that　I　give　up　this　pretense　to　respectability　and　go　off　somewhere　with　him；　be　a　wanderer；　be　his　pupil；　learn　new；　terrible　lessons　about　the　way　of　the　world。　And　I　have　to　say　he　made　it　sound　almost　attractive。　There　were　times　when　I　tired　of　the　masquerade；　when　I　smelled　war；　dirt；　when　I　saw　the　clouds　over　Warsaw；　and　I　was　homesick　for　the　thief　I　used　to　be。　But　I　wasn't　going　to　throw　everything　away　for　nostalgia's　sake。　I　told　him　so。　I　think　he　must　have　known　I　was　immovable；　because　he　became　desperate。　He　started　to　ramble；　started　to　tell　me　he　was　frightened　without　me；　lost。　I　was　the　one　he'd　given　years　of　his　life　and　his　energies　to；　and　how　could　I　be　so　callous　and　unloving？　He　laid　hands　on　me；　wept；　tried　to　paw　my　face。　I　was　horrified　by　the　whole　thing。　He　disgusted　me　with　his　melodrama；　I　wanted　no　part　of　it；　or　him。　But　he　wouldn't　leave。　His　demands　turned　into　threats；　and　I　suppose　I　lost　my　temper。　No　suppose　about　it。　I've　never　been　so　angry。　I　wanted　an　end　to　him　and　all　he　stood　for：　my　grubby　past。　I　hit　him。　Not　hard　at　first；　but　when　he　wouldn't　stop　staring　at　me　I　lost　control。　He　didn't　make　any　attempt　to　defend　himself；　and　his　passivity　only　inflamed　me　more。　I　hit　him　and　hit　him；　and　he　just　took　it。　Kept　offering　up　his　face　to　be　beaten…〃　He　took　a　trembling　breath。　〃…God　knows　I've　done　worse　things。　But　nothing　I　feel　so　ashamed　of。　I　didn't　stop　till　my　knuckles　began　to　split。　Then　I　gave　him　to　Toy；　who　really　worked　him　over。　And　all　the　time　not　a　peep　out　of　him。　I　go　cold　to　think　about　it。　I　can　still　see　him　against　the　wall；　with　Bill　at　his　throat　and　his　eyes　not　looking　at　where　the　next　blow　was　ing　from　but　at　me。　Just　at　me。
　　〃I　remember　he　said：　‘Do　you　know　what　you've　done？〃　Just　like　that。　Very　quietly；　blood　ing　out　with　the　words。
　　〃Then　something　happened。　The　air　got　thick。　The　blood　on　his　face　started　to　crawl　around　like　it　was　alive。　Toy　let　him　go。　He　slid　down　the　wall；　left　a　smear　down　it。　I　thought　we'd　killed　him。　It　was　the　worst　moment　of　my　life；　standing　here　with　Toy；　both　of　us　staring　down　at　this　bag　of　bones　we'd　beaten　up。　That　was　our　mistake；　of　course。　We　should　never　have　backed　down。　We　should　have　finished　it　then　and　there；　and　killed　him。〃　〃Jesus。〃　〃Yes！　Stupid；　not　to　have　finished　it。　Bill　was　loyal：　there　would　have　been　no　eback。　But　we　didn't　have　the　courage。　I　didn't　have　the　courage。　I　just　made　Toy　clean　Mamoulian　up；　then　drive　him　to　the　middle　of　the　city　and　dump　him。〃　〃You　wouldn't　have　killed　him；〃　Marty　said。
　　〃Still　you　insist　on　reading　my　mind；〃　Whitehead　replied；　wearily。　〃Don't　you　see　that's　what　he　wanted？　What　he'd　e　for？　He　would　have　let　me　be　his　executioner　then；　if　I'd　only　had　the　nerve　to　follow　through。　He　was　sick　of　life。　I　could　have　put　him　out　of　his　misery；　and　that　would　have　been　the　end　of　it。〃　〃You　think　he's　mortal？〃　〃Everything　has　its　seaso