520美书楼

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第64部分（第4页）

expects　to　see　to　your　sons　well…being　himself。　He　is　very　interested　in　your

son。　Danny　is　a　talented　boy。〃

The　juniper　fumes　of　the　gin　were　pleasantly　maddening；　but　they　also　seemed

to　be　blurring　his　reason。　Danny？　What　was　all　of　this　about　Danny？　And　what　was

he　doing　in　a　bar　with　a　drink　in　his　hand？

He　had　TAKEN　THE　PLEDGE。　He　had　GONE　ON　THE　WAGON。　He　had　SWORN　OFF。

What　could　they　want　with　his　son？　What　could　they　want　with　Danny？　Wendy　and

Danny　werent　in　it。　He　tried　to　see　into　Lloyds　shadowed　eyes；　but　it　was　too

dark；　too　dark；　it　was　like　trying　to　read　emotion　into　the　empty　orbs　of　a

skull。

（Its　me　they　must　want　。。。　isnt　it？　I　am　the　one。　Not　Danny；　not　Wendy。

Im　the　one　who　loves　it　here。　They　wanted　to　leave。　Im　the　one　who　took　care

of　the　snowmobile　。。。　went　through　the　old　records　。。。　dumped　the　press　on

the　boiler　。。。　lied　。。。　practically　sold　my　soul　。。。　what　can　they　want

with　him？）

〃Where　is　the　manager？〃　He　tried　to　ask　it　casually　but　his　words　seemed　to

e　out　between　lips　already　numbed　by　the　first　drink；　like　words　from　a

nightmare　rather　than　those　in　a　sweet　dream。

Lloyd　only　smiled。

〃What　do　you　want　with　my　son？　Dannys　not　in　this　。。。　is　he？〃　He　heard　the

naked　plea　in　his　own　voice。

Lloyds　face　seemed　to　be　running；　changing；　being　something　pestilent。　The

white　skin　being　a　hepatitic　yellow；　cracking。　Red　sores　erupting　on　the

skin；　bleeding　foul　smelling　liquid。　Droplets　of　blood　sprang　out　on　Lloyds

forehead　like　sweat　and　somewhere　a　silver　chime　was　striking　the　quarter…hour。

（Unmask；　unmask！）

〃Drink　your　drink；　Mr。　Torrance；〃　Lloyd　said　softly。　〃It　isnt　a　matter　that

concerns　you。　Not　at　this　point。〃

He　picked　his　drink　up　again；　raised　it　to　his　lips；　and　hesitated。　He　heard

the　hard；　horrible　snap　as　Dannys　arm　broke。　He　saw　the　bicycle　flying　brokenly

up　over　the　hood　of　Als　car；　starring　the　windshield。　He　saw　a　single　wheel

lying　in　the　road；　twisted　spokes　pointing　into　the　sky　like　jags　of　piano　wire。

He　became　aware　that　all　conversation　had　stopped。

He　looked　back　over　his　shoulder。　They　were　all　looking　at　him　expectantly；

silently。　The　man　beside　the　woman　in　the　sarong　had　removed　his　foxhead　and

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