dk.coldfire-第65部分

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　By　parison　with　previous　discoveries；　this　was　only　a　minor　surprise。　
　Jim　hadn't　wanted　Holly　to　e　into　the　library　yesterday；　so　he'd　simply　lied。　And　from　the　look　on　his　face　now；　it　was　clear　that　Elois　Glynn's　youth　was　no　surprise　to　him　either；　he　had　known；　yesterday；　that　he　was　not　telling　the　truth；　though　perhaps　he　had　not　understood　why　he　was　lying。　
　The　librarian　did　not　recognize　Jim。　Either　he　had　been　one　of　those　kids　who　left　little　impression　or；　more　likely；　he　had　been　telling　the　truth　when　he'd　said　he　had　not　been　to　the　library　since　he'd　left　for　college　eighteen　years　ago。　
　Eloise　Glynn　had　the　bouncy　manner　and　attitude　of　a　girls'　sports　coach　that　Holly　remembered　from　high　school。　〃Willott？〃　she　said　in　answer　to　Holly's　question。　〃Oh；　yes；　we've　got　a　truckload　of　Willott〃　She　bounced　up　from　her　chair。　〃I　can　show　you　right　where　he's　at。〃　
　She　came　around　her　desk；　stepping　briskly；　and　led　Holly　and　Jim　across　the　hall　to　the　other　large　room。　〃He　was　local；　as　I'm　sure　you　know。　
　Died　a　decade　ago；　but　two…thirds　of　his　books　are　still　in　print。〃　She　stopped　in　front　of　the　young…adult　section　and　made　a　sweeping　gesture　with　one　hand　to　indicate　two　three…foot　shelves　of　Willott　titles。　〃He　was　a　productive　man；　Artie　Willott；　so　busy　that　beavers　hung　their　heads　in　shame　when　he　walked　by。〃　
　She　grinned　at　Holly；　and　it　was　infectious。　Holly　grinned　back　at　him　〃We're　looking　for　The　Black　Windmill。〃　
　〃That's　one　of　his　most　popular　titles；　never　met　a　kid　didn't　love　it；　Mrs。　Glynn　plucked　the　book　off　the　shelf　almost　without　looking　to　where　it　was；　handed　it　to　Holly。　〃This　for　your　kid？〃　〃Actually　for　me。　I　read　about　it　on　the　plaque　over　in　Tivoli　Gardens。　
　〃I've　read　the　book；〃　Jim　said。　〃But　she's　curious。〃　
　With　Jim；　Holly　returned　to　the　main　room　and　sat　at　the　table　f　from　the　desk。　With　the　book　between　them；　they　read　the　first　two　chapters。　
　She　kept　touching　him…his　hand；　shoulder；　knee…gentling　him。　
　Somehow　she　had　to　hold　him　together　long　enough　for　him　to　learn　the　truth　and　be　healed　by　it；　and　the　only　glue　she　could　think　of　was　love。　She　had　convinced　herself　that　each　small　expression　of　love…each　touch；　smile；　affectionate　look　or　word…was　a　bonding　agent　that　prevented　him　from　shattering　pletely。　
　The　novel　was　well　and　engagingly　written。　But　what　it　revealed　about　Jim　Ironheart's　life　was　so　astonishing　that　Holly　began　to　skim　and　spot　read；　whispering　passages　to　him；　urgently　seeking　the　next　startling　revelation。　
　The　lead　character　was　named　Jim；　not　Ironheart　but　Jamison。　Jim　Jamison　lived　on　a　farm　that　had　a　pond　and　an　old　windmill。　The　mill　was　supposedly　haunted；　but　after　witnessing　a　number　of　spooky　incidents；　Jim　discovered　that　an　alien　presence；　not　a　spirit；　was　quartered　in　a　spacecraft　under　the　pond　and　was　manifesting　itself　in　the　mill。　It　revealed　itself　to　Jim　as　a　soft　light　that　glowed　within　the　mill　walls。　
　munication　between　Jim　and　the　alien　was　achieved　with　the　use　of　two　lined；　yellow　tablets…one　for　Jim's　questions；　and　one　for　the　alien's　answers；　which　appeared　as　if　by　magic。　According　to　the　extraterrestrial；　it　was　a　being　of　pure　energy　and　was　on　earth　〃TO　OBSERVE；　TO　STUDY；　TO　HELP　MANKIND。〃　It　referred　to　itself　as　THE　FRIEND。　
　Marking　her　place　with　a　finger；　Holly　flipped　through　the　rest　of　the　book　to　see　if　The　Friend　continued　to　use　the　awkward　tablets　for　munication　all　the　way　to　the　end。　It　did。　In　the　story　on　which　Jim　Ironheart　had　based　his　fantasy；　the　alien　never　vocalized。　
　〃Which　is　why　you　doubted　that　your　alien　could　vocalize　and　why　you　resisted　my　suggestion　that　we　refuse　to　play　along　with　the　tablet　system。〃　
　Jim　was　beyond　denial　now。　He　stared　at　the　book　with　wonder。　
　His　response　gave　Holly　hope　for　him。　In　the　cemetery；　he　had　been　in　such　distress；　his　eyes　so　cold　and　bleak；　that　she　had　begun　to　doubt　if；　indeed；　he　could　turn　his　phenomenal　power　inward　to　heal　himself　And　in　the　park；　for　one　terrible　moment；　she　had　thought　that　his　fragile　shell　of　sanity　would　crack　and　spill　the　yolk　of　madness。　
　But　he　had　held　together；　and　now　his　curiosity　seemed　to　be　overing　his　fear。　
　Mrs。　Glynn　had　gone　off　to　work　in　the　stacks。　No　other　patrons　had　e　in　to　browse。　
　Holly　returned　to　the　story；　skim…reading。　At　the　midpoint　of　the　tale；　just　after　Jim　Jamison　and　the　alien　had　their　second　encounter；　the　ET　explained　that　it　was　an　entity　that　lived　〃IN　ALL　ASPECTS　OF　TIME〃　could　perceive　the　future；　and　wanted　to　save　the　life　of　a　man　who　was　fated　to　die。　
　〃I'll　be　damned；〃　Jim　said　softly。　
　Without　warning；　a　vision　burst　in　Holly's　mind　with　such　force　and　brilliance　that　the　library　vanished　for　a　moment　and　her　inner　world　became　the　only　reality：　she　saw　herself　naked　and　nailed　to　a　wall　in　an　obscene　parody　of　a　crucifix；　blood　streaming　from　her　hands　and　feet　（a　voice　whispering：　die；　die；　die）；　and　she　opened　her　mouth　to　scream　but；　instead　of　sound；　swarms　of　cockroaches　poured　out　between　her　lips；　and　she　realized　she　was　already　dead　（die　die　die）；　her　putrid　innards　crawling　with　pests　and　vermin　The　hateful　phantasm　flickered　off　the　screen　of　her　mind　as　suddenly　as　it　had　appeared；　and　she　snapped　back　into　the　library　with　a　jolt。　
　〃Holly？〃　Jim　was　looking　at　her　worriedly。　
　A　part　of　him　had　sent　the　vision　to　her；　no　question　about　that。　
　But　the　Jim　she　was　looking　at　now　was　not　the　Jim　who　had　done　it。　The　dark　child　within　him；　The　Enemy；　hate…filled　and　murderous；　was　striking　at　her　with　a　new　weapon。　
　She　said；　〃It's　okay。　It's　all　right。〃　
　But　she　didn't　feel　all　right。　The　vision　had　left　her　nauseous　and　somewhat　disoriented。　
　She　had　to　struggle　to　refocus　on　The　Black　Windmill：　The　man　Jim　Jamison　had　to　save；　The　Friend　explained；　was　a　candidate　for　the　United　States　Presidency；　soon　to　pass　through　Jim's　hometown；　where　he　was　going　to　be　assassinated。　The　alien　wanted　him　to　live；　instead；　because　〃HE　IS　GOING　TO　BE　A　GREAT　STATESMAN　AND　PEACEMAKER　WHO　WILL　SAVE　THE　WORLD　FROM　A　GREAT　WAR。〃　Because　it　had　to　keep　its　presence　on　earth　a　secret；　The　Friend　wanted　to　work　through　Jim　Jamison　to　thwart　the　assassins：　〃YOU　WILL　THROW　HIM　A　LIFE　LINE；　JIM。〃　
　The　novel　did　not　include　an　evil　alien。　The　Enemy　had　been　entirely　Jim　Ironheart's　embellishment；　an　embodiment　of　his　own　rage　and　self　hatred；　which　he　had　needed　to　separate　from　himself　and　control。　
　With　a　crackle　of　inner　static；　another　vision　burst　across　her　mindscreen；　so　intense　that　it　blotted　out　the　real　world：　she　was　in　a　coffin；　dead　but　somehow　still　in　possession　of　all　her　senses；　she　could　feel　worms　churning　in　her　（die；　die；　die；　die）；　could　smell　the　vile　stench　of　her　own　decaying　body；　could　see　her　rotted　face　reflected　on　the　inside　of　the　con　lid　as　if　it　was　lit　and　mirrored。　
　She　raised　skeletal　fists　and　beat　on　the　lid；　heard　the　blows　reverberating　into　the　yards　of　pacted　earth　above　her　The　library　again。　
　〃Holly；　for　God's　sake；　what's　happening？〃　〃Nothing。〃　
　〃Holly？〃　〃Nothing；〃　she　said；　sensing　that　it　would　be　a　mistake　to　admit　that　The　Enemy　was　rattling　her。　
　She　finished　skimming　The　Black　Windmill：　At　the　end　of　the　novel；　when　Jim　Jamison　had　saved　the　future　president；　The　Friend　had　subsided　into　quiescence　under　the　pond；　instructing　Jim　to　forget　that　their　encounter　had　ever　taken　place；　and　to　remember　only　that　he　had　saved　the　politician　on　his　own　initiative。　If　a　repressed　memory　of　the　alien　ever　surfaced　in　Jim's　mind；　he　was　told　that　he　would　〃REMEMBER　ME　ONLY　AS　A　DREAM；　AN　ENTITY　IN　A　DREAM　YOU　ONCE　HAD。〃　When　the　alien　light　faded　out　of　the　wall　for　the　last　time；　the　messages　on　the　tablet　vanished；　leaving　no　trace　of　the　contact。　
　Holly　closed　the　book。　
　She　and　Jim　sat　for　a　while；　staring　at　the　dustjacket。　
　Around　her；　thousands　of　times　and　places；　people　and　worlds；　from　Mars　to　Egypt　to　Yoknapatawpha　County；　were　closed　up　in　the　bindings　of　books　like　the　shine　trapped　under　the　tarnished　veneer　of　a　brass　lamp。　
　She　could　almost　feel　them　waiting　to　dazzle　with　the　first　turn　of　a　page；　e　alive　with　brilliant　colors　and　pungent　odors　and　delicious　aromas；　with　laughter　and　sobbing　and　cries　and　whispers。　
　Books　were　packaged　dreams。　
　〃Dreams　are　doorways；〃　she　told　Jim；　〃and　the　story　in　any　novel　is　a　kind　of　dream。　Through　Arthur　Willott's　dream　of　alien　contact　and　adventure；　you　found　a　doorway　out　of　your　despair；　an　escape　from　a　crushing　sense　of　having　failed　your　mother　and　father。〃　He　had　been　unrelievedly　pale　since　she　had　shown　him　the　tablet　with　The　Friend's　answers。　HE　LOVES　YOU　HOLLY/HE　WILL　KILL　YOU　HOLLY。　Now　some　color　had　returned　to　his　face。　His　eyes　were　still　ghost…ridden；　and　worry　clung　to　him　like　shadows　to　the　night；　but　he　seemed　to　be　feeling　his　way　toward　an　acmodation　with　all　the　lies　that　were　his　life。　
　Which　was　what　frightened　The　Enemy　in　him。　And　made　it　desperate。　
　Mrs。　Glynn　had　returned　from　the　stacks。　She　was　working　at　her　desk。　
　Lowering　her　voice　even　further；　Holly　said　to　Jim；　〃But　why　would　you　hold　yourself　to　blame　for　the　traffic　accident　that　killed　them？　And　how　could　any　kid　that　age　have　such　a　tremendously　heavy　sense　of　responsibility？〃　He　shook　his　head。　〃I　don't　know。〃　
　Remembering　what　Corbett　Handahl　had　told　her；　Holly　put　a　hand　on　Jim's　knee　and　said；　〃Think；　honey。　Did　the　accident　happen　when　they　were　on　the　road　with　this　mentalist　act　of　theirs？〃　He　hesitated；　frowned。　〃Yes。　。　。　on　the　road。〃　
　〃You　traveled　with　them；　didn't　you？〃　He　nodded。　
　Recalling　the　photograph　of　his　mother　in　a　glittery　gown；　Jim　and　his　father　in　tuxedos；　Holly　said；　〃You　were　part　of　the　act。〃　
　Some　of　his　memories　apparently　were　rising　like　the　rings　of　light　had　risen　in　the　pond。　The　play　of　emotions　in　his　face　could　not　have　been　faked；　he　was　genuinely　astonished　to　be　moving　out　of　a　life　of　darkness。　
　Holly　felt　her　own　excitement　growing　with　his。　She　said；　〃What　did　you　do　in　the　act？〃　〃It　was。　。　。　a　form　of　stage　magic。　My　mom　would　take　objects　from　people　in　the　audience。　My　dad　would　work　with　me；　and　we　would。　
　。　。