The Shining 原版小说-第38章

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called　back；　〃Yeah；　babe。　Lookin　for　rats。〃　
　　She　was　ing　down。　He　heard　her　on　the　stairs；　then　crossing　the　boiler　
room。　Quickly；　without　thinking　why　he　might　be　doing　it；　be　stuffed　the　
scrapbook　under　a　pile　of　bills　and　invoices。　He　stood　up　as　she　came　through　
the　arch。　
　　〃What　in　the　world　have　you　been　doing　down　here？　It's　almost　three　o'clock！〃　
　　He　smiled。　〃Is　it　that　late？　I　got　rooting　around　through　all　this　stuff。　
Trying　to　find　out　where　the　bodies　are　buried；　I　guess。〃　
　　The　words　clanged　back　viciously　in　his　mind。　
　　She　came　closer；　looking　at　him；　and　he　unconsciously　retreated　a　step；　unable　
to　help　himself。　He　knew　what　she　was　doing。　She　was　trying　to　smell　liquor　on　
him。　Probably　she　wasn't　even　aware　of　it　herself；　but　he　was；　and　it　made　him　
feel　both　guilty　and　angry。　
　　〃Your　mouth　is　bleeding；〃　she　said　in　a　curiously　flat　tone。　
　　〃Huh？〃　He　put　his　hand　to　his　lips　and　winced　at　the　thin　stinging。　His　index　
finger　came　away　bloody。　His　guilt　increased。　
　　〃You've　been　rubbing　your　mouth　again；〃　she　said。　
　　He　looked　down　and　shrugged。　〃Yeah；　I　guess　I　have。〃　
　　〃It's　been　hell　for　you；　hasn't　it？〃　
　　〃No；　not　so　bad。〃　
　　〃Has　it　gotten　any　easier？〃　


　
　
　　He　looked　up　at　her　and　made　his　feet　start　moving。　Once　they　were　actually　in　
motion　it　was　easier。　He　crossed　to　his　wife　and　slipped　an　arm　around　her　
waist。　He　brushed　aside　a　sheaf　of　her　blond　hair　and　kissed　her　neck。　〃Yes；〃　he　
said。　〃Where's　Danny？〃　
　　〃Oh；　he's　around　somewhere。　It's　started　to　cloud　up　outside。　Hungry？〃　
　　He　slipped　a　hand　over　her　taut；　jeans…clad　bottom　with　counterfeit　lechery。　
〃Like　ze　bear；　madame。〃　
　　〃Watch　out；　slugger。　Don't　start　something　you　can't　finish。〃　
　　〃Fig…fig；　madame？〃　he　asked；　still　rubbing。　〃Dirty　peeotures？　Unnatural　
positions？〃　As　they　went　through　the　arch；　he　threw　one　glance　back　at　the　box　
where　the　scrapbook　
　　（whose？）　
　　was　hidden。　With　the　light　out　it　was　only　a　shadow。　He　was　relieved　that　he　
had　gotten　Wendy　away。　His　lust　became　less　acted；　more　natural；　as　they　
approached　the　stairs。　
　　〃Maybe；〃　she　said。　〃After　we　get　you　a　sandwich…yeek！〃　She　twisted　away　from　
him；　giggling。　〃That　tickles！〃　
　　〃It　teekles　nozzing　like　Jock　Torrance　would　like　to　teekle　you；　madame。〃　
　　〃Lay　off；　Jock。　How　about　a　ham　and　cheese　。。。　for　the　first　course？〃　
　　They　went　up　the　stairs　together；　and　Jack　didn't　look　over　his　shoulder　
again。　But　he　thought　of　Watson's　words：　
　　Every　big　hotel　has　got　a　ghost。　Why？　Hell；　people　e　and　go。。。　
　　Then　Wendy　shut　the　basement　door　behind　them；　closing　it　into　darkness。　
　
　
　
　
　　　》　
　
　
　　OUTSIDE　217　
　
　
　　Danny　was　remembering　the　words　of　someone　else　who　had　worked　at　the　Overlook　
during　the　season：　
　　Her　saying　she'd　seen　something　in　one　of　the　rooms　where　。。。　a　bad　thing　
happened。　That　was　in　Room　217　and　I　want　you　to　promise　me　you　won't　go　in　
there；　Danny　。。。　steer　right　clear　。。。　
　　It　was　a　perfectly　ordinary　door；　no　different　from　any　other　door　on　the　
first　two　floors　of　the　hotel。　It　was　dark　gray；　halfway　down　a　corridor　that　
ran　at　right　angles　to　the　main　second…floor　hallway。　The　numbers　on　the　door　
looked　no　different　from　the　house　numbers　on　the　Boulder　apartment　building　
they　had　lived　in。　A　2；　a　1；　and　a　7。　Big　deal。　Just　below　them　was　a　tiny　glass　
circle；　a　peephole。　Danny　had　tried　several　of　them。　From　the　inside　you　got　a　
wide；　fish…eye　view　of　the　corridor。　From　outside　you　could　screw　up　your　eye　
seven　ways　to　Sunday　and　still　not　see　a　thing。　A　dirty　gyp：　
　　（Why　are　you　here？）　


　
　
　　After　the　walk　behind　the　Overlook；　he　and　Mommy　had　e　back　and　she　had　
fixed　him　his　favorite　lunch；　a　cheese　and　bologna　sandwich　plus　Campbell's　Bean　
Soup。　They　ate　in　Dick's　kitchen　and　talked。　The　radio　was　on；　getting　thin　and　
crackly　music　from　the　Estes　Park　station。　The　kitchen　was　his　favorite　place　in　
the　hotel；　and　he　guessed　that　Mommy　and　Daddy　must　feel　the　same　way；　because　
after　trying　their　meals　in　the　dining　room　for　three　days　or　so；　they　had　begun　
eating　in　the　kitchen　by　mutual　consent；　setting　up　chairs　around　Dick　
Hallorann's　butcher　block；　which　was　almost　as　big　as　their　dining　room　table　
back　in　Stovington；　anyway。　The　dining　room　had　been　too　depressing；　even　with　
the　lights　on　and　the　music　playing　from　the　tape　cassette　system　in　the　office。　
You　were　still　just　one　of　three　people　sitting　at　a　table　surrounded　by　dozens　
of　other　tables；　all　empty；　all　covered　with　those　transparent　plastic　
dustcloths。　Mommy　said　it　was　like　having　dinner　in　the　middle　of　a　Horace　
Walpole　novel；　and　Daddy　had　laughed　and　agreed。　Danny　had　no　idea　who　Horace　
Walpole　was；　but　he　did　know　that　Mommy's　cooking　had　begun　to　taste　better　as　
soon　as　they　began　to　eat　it　in　the　kitchen。　He　kept　discovering　little　flashes　
of　Dick　Hallorann's　personality　lying　around；　and　they　reassured　him　like　a　warm　
touch。　
　　Mommy　had　eaten　half　a　sandwich；　no　soup。　She　said　Daddy　must　have　gone　out　
for　a　walk　of　his　own　since　both　the　VW　and　the　hotel　truck　were　in　the　parking　
lot。　She　said　she　was　tired　and　might　lie　down　for　an　hour　or　so；　if　he　thought　
he　could　amuse　himself　and　not　get　into　trouble。　Danny　told　her　around　a　
mouthful　of　cheese　and　bologna　that　he　thought　he　could。　
　　〃Why　don't　you　go　out　into　the　playground？〃　she　asked　him。　〃I　thought　you'd　
love　that　place；　with　a　sandbox　for　your　trucks　and　all。〃　
　　He　swallowed　and　the　food　went　down　his　throat　in　a　lump　that　was　dry　and　
hard。　〃Maybe　I　will；〃　he　said；　turning　to　the　radio　and　fiddling　with　it。　
　　〃And　all　those　neat　hedge　animals；〃　she　said；　taking　his　empty　plate。　〃Your　
father's　got　to　get　out　and　trim　them　pretty　soon。〃　
　　〃Yeah；〃　he　said。　
　　（Just　nasty　things　。。。　once　it　had　to　do　with　those　damn　hedges　clipped　to　
look　like　animals　。。。）　
　　〃If　you　see　your　father　before　I　do；　tell　him　I'm　lying　down。〃　
　　〃Sure；　Mom。〃　
　　She　put　the　dirty　dishes　in　the　sink　and　came　back　over　to　him。　〃Are　you　happy　
here；　Danny？〃　
　　He　looked　at　her　guilelessly；　a　milk　mustache　on　his　lip。　〃Uh…huh。〃　
　　〃No　more　bad　dreams？〃　
　　〃No。〃　Tony　had　e　to　him　once；　one　night　while　he　was　lying　in　bed；　calling　
his　name　faintly　and　from　far　away。　Danny　had　squeezed　his　eyes　tightly　shut　
until　Tony　had　gone。　
　　〃You　sure？〃　
　　〃Yes；　Mom。〃　
　　She　seemed　satisfied。　〃How's　your　hand？〃　
　　He　flexed　it　for　her。　〃All　better。〃　
　　She　nodded。　Jack　had　taken　the　nest　under　the　Pyrex　bowl；　full　of　frozen　
wasps；　out　to　the　incinerator　in　back　of　the　equipment　shed　and　burned　it。　They　
had　seen　no　more　wasps　since。　He　had　written　to　a　lawyer　in　Boulder；　enclosing　


　
　
the　snaps　of　Danny's　hand；　and　the　lawyer　had　called　back　two　days　ago　—　that　had　
put　Jack　in　a　foul　temper　all　afternoon。　The　lawyer　doubted　if　the　pany　that　
had　manufactured　the　bug　bomb　could　be　sued　successfully　because　there　was　only　
Jack　to　testify　that　he　had　followed　directions　printed　on　the　package。　Jack　had　
asked　the　lawyer　if　they　couldn't　purchase　some　others　and　test　them　for　the　
same　defect。　Yes；　the　lawyer　said；　but　the　results　were　highly　doubtful　even　if　
all　the　test　bombs　malfunctioned。　He　told　Jack　of　a　case　that　involved　an　
extension　ladder　pany　and　a　man　who　had　broken　his　back。　Wendy　had　
miserated　with　Jack；　but　privately　she　had　just　been　glad　that　Danny　had　
gotten　off　as　cheaply　as　he　had。　It　was　best　to　leave　lawsuits　to　people　who　
understood　them；　and　that　did　not　include　the　Torrances。　And　they　had　seen　no　
more　wasps　since。　
　　〃Go　and　play；　doc。　Have　fun。〃　
　　But　he　hadn't　had　fun。　He　had　wandered　aimlessly　around　the　hotel；　poking　into　
the　maids'　closets　and　the　janitor's　rooms；　looking　for　something　interesting；　
not　finding　it；　a　small　boy　padding　along　a　dark　blue　carpet　woven　with　twisting　
black　lines。　He　had　tried　a　room　door　from　time　to　time；　but　of　course　they　were　
all　locked。　The　passkey　was　hanging　down　in　the　office；　he　knew　where；　but　Daddy　
had　told　him　he　shouldn't　touch　that。　And　he　didn't　want　to。　Did　be？　
　　（Why　are　you　here？）　
　　There　was　nothing　aimless　about　it　after　all。　He　had　been　drawn　to　Room　217　by　
a　morbid　kind　of　curiosity。　He　remembered　a　story　Daddy　had　read　to　him　once　
when　he　was　drunk。　That　had　been　a　long　time　ago；　but　the　story　was　just　as　
vivid　now　as　when　Daddy　had　read　it　to　him。　Mommy　had　scolded　Daddy　and　asked　
what　he　was　doing；　reading　a　three…year…old　baby　something　so　horrible。　The　name　
of　the　story　was　Bluebeard。　That　was　clear　in　his　mind　too；　because　he　had　
thought　at　first　Daddy　was　saying　Bluebird；　and　there　were　no　bluebirds　in　the　
story；　or　birds　of　any　kind　for　that　matter。　Actually　the　story　was　about　
Bluebeard's　wife；　a　pretty　lady　that　had　corn…colored　hair　like　Mommy。　After　
Bluebeard　married　her；　they　lived　in　a　big　and　ominous　castle　that　was　not　
unlike　the　Overlook。　And　every　day　Bluebeard　went　off　to　work　and　every　day　he　
would　tell　his　pretty　little　wife　not　to　look　in　a　certain　room；　although　the　
key　to　that　room　was　hanging　right　on　a　hook；　just　like　the　passkey　was　hanging　
on　the　office　wall　downstairs。　Bluebea