520美书楼

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第54部分（第1页）

minutes　later　he　was　strapping　them　to　his　feet　on　the　front　porch。　His　daddy

had　told　him　that　he　（Danny）　had　the　hang　of　using　the　snowshoes　—　the　lazy；

shuffling　stride；　the　twist　of　ankle　that　shook　the　powdery　snow　from　the

lacings　just　before　the　boot　came　back　down　—　and　all　that　remained　was　for　him　to

build　up　the　necessary　muscles　in　his　thighs　and　calves　and　ankles。　Danny　found

that　his　ankles　got　tired　the　fastest。　Snowshoeing　was　almost　as　hard　on　your

ankles　as　skating；　because　you　had　to　keep　clearing　the　lacings。　Every　five

minutes　or　so　he　had　to　stop　with　his　legs　spread　and　the　snowshoes　fat　on　the

snow　to　rest　them。

But　he　didnt　have　to　rest　on　his　way　down　to　the　playground　because　it　was

all　downhill。　Less　than　ten　minutes　after　he　struggled　up　and　over　the　monstrous

snow…dune　that　had　drifted　in　on　the　Overlooks　front　porch　he　was　standing　with

his　mittened　hand　on　the　playground　slide。　He　wasnt　even　breathing　hard。

The　playground　seemed　much　nicer　in　the　deep　snow　than　it　ever　had　during　the

autumn。　It　looked　like　a　fairyland　sculpture。　The　swing　chains　had　been　frozen

in　strange　positions；　the　seats　of　the　big　kids　swings　resting　flush　against

the　snow。　The　jungle　gym　was　an　ice…cave　guarded　by　dripping　icicle　teeth。　Only

the　chimneys　of　the　play…Overlook　stuck　up　over　the　snow

（wish　the　other　one　was　buried　that　way　only　not　with　us　in　it）

and　the　tops　of　the　cement　rings　protruded　in　two　places　like　Eskimo　igloos。

Danny　tramped　over　there；　squatted；　and　began　to　dig。　Before　long　he　had

uncovered　the　dark　mouth　of　one　of　them　and　he　slipped　into　the　cold　tunnel。　In

his　mind　he　was　Patrick　McGoohan；　the　Secret　Agent　Man　（they　had　shown　the

reruns　of　that　program　twice　on　the　Burlington　TV　channel　and　his　daddy　never

missed　them；　he　would　skip　a　party　to　stay　home　and　watch　〃Secret　Agent〃　or　〃The

Avengers〃　and　Danny　had　always　watched　with　him）；　on　the　run　from　KGB　agents　in

the　mountains　of　Switzerland。　There　had　been　avalanches　in　the　area　and　the

notorious　KGB　agent　Slobbo　had　killed　his　girlfriend　with　a　poison　dart；　but

somewhere　near　was　the　Russian　antigravity　machine。　Perhaps　at　the　end　of　this

very　tunnel。　He　drew　his　automatic　and　went　along　the　concrete　tunnel；　his　eyes

wide　and　alert；　his　breath　pluming　out。

The　far　end　of　the　concrete　ring　was　solidly　blocked　with　snow。　He　tried

digging　through　it　and　was　amazed　（and　a　little　uneasy）　to　see　how　solid　it　was；

almost　like　ice　from　the　cold　and　the　constant　weight　of　more　snow　on　top　of　it。

His　make…believe　game　collapsed　around　him　and　he　was　suddenly　aware　that　he

felt　closed　in　and　extremely　nervous　in　this　tight　ring　of　cement。　He　could　hear

his　breathing；　it　sounded　dank　and　quick　and　hollow。　He　was　under　the　snow；　and

hardly　any　light　filtered　down　the　hole　he　had　dug　to　get　in　here。　Suddenly　he

wanted　to　be　out　in　the　sunlight　more　than　anything；　suddenly　he　remembered　his

daddy　and　mommy　were　sleeping　and　didnt　know　there　he　was；　that　if　the　hole　he

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