520美书楼

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第53部分（第1页）

his　breath；　and　as　he　turned　to　go　he　bad　seen　the　face　of　Jesus　from　the　corner

of　his　eye；　sad　and。　wise。　He　turned　back；　his　heart　in　his　throat。　Everything

had　suddenly　clicked　into　place　and　he　had　stared　at　the　picture　with　fearful

wonder；　unable　to　believe　he　had　missed　it。　The　eyes；　the　zigzag　of　shadow

across　the　care…worn　brow；　the　fine　nose；　the　passionate　lips。　Looking　at

Jack　Torrance。　What　had　only　been　a　meaningless　sprawl　had　suddenly　been

transformed　into　a　stark　black…and…white　etching　of　the　face　of　Christ　Our　Lord。

Fearful　wonder　became　terror。　He　had　cussed　in　front　of　a　picture　of　Jesus。　He

would　be　damned。　He　would　be　in　hell　with　the　sinners。　The　face　of　Christ　had

been　in　the　picture　all　along。　All　along。

Now；　kneeling　in　the　sun　and　watching　his　son　playing　in　the　shadow　of　the

hotel；　he　knew　that　it　was　all　true。　The　hotel　wanted　Danny；　maybe　all　of　them

but　Danny　for　sure。　The　hedges　had　really　walked。　There　was　a　dead　woman　in　217；

a　woman　that　was　perhaps　only　a　spirit　and　harmless　under　most　circumstances；

but　a　woman　who　was　now　an　active　danger。　Like　some　malevolent　clockwork　toy　she

had　been　wound　up　and　set　in　motion　by　Dannys　own　odd　mind　。。。　and　his　own。

Had　it　been　Watson　who　had　told　him　a　man　had　dropped　dead　of　a　stroke　one　day

on　the　roque　court？　Or　had　it　been　Ullman？　It　didnt　matter。　There　had　been　an

assassination　on　the　third　floor。　How　many　old　quarrels；　suicides；　strokes？　How

many　murders？　Was　Grady　lurking　somewhere　in　the　west　wing　with　his　ax；　just

waiting　for　Danny　to　start　him　up　so　he　could　e　back　out　of　the　woodwork？

The　puffed　circle　of　bruises　around　Dannys　neck。

The　twinkling；　half…seen　bottles　in　the　deserted　lounge。

The　radio。

The　dreams。

The　scrapbook　he　had　found　in　the　cellar。

（Medoc；　are　you　here？　Ive　been　sleepwalking　again；　my　dear。。。）

He　got　up　suddenly；　thrusting　the　snowshoes　back　out　the　door。　He　was　shaking

all　over。　He　slammed　the　door　and　picked　up　the　box　with　the　battery　in　it。　It

slipped　through　his　shaking　fingers

（oh　christ　what　if　i　cracked　it）

and　thumped　over　on　its　side。　He　pulled　the　flaps　of　the　carton　open　and

yanked　the　battery　out；　heedless　of　the　acid　that　might　be　leaking　through　the

batterys　casing　if　it　had　cracked。　But　it　hadnt。　It　was　whole。　A　little　sigh

escaped　his　lips。

Cradling　it；　he　took　it　over　to　the　Skidoo　and　put　it　on　its　platform　near　the

front　of　the　engine。　He　found　a　small　adjustable　wrench　on　one　of　the　shelves

and　attached　the　battery　cables　quickly　and　with　no　trouble。　The　battery　was

live；　no　need　to　use　the　charger　on　it。　There　had　been　a　crackle　of　electricity

and　a　small　odor　of　ozone　when　he　slipped　the　positive　cable　onto　its　terminal。

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