sk.thewastelands-第25部分

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ourish　of　brass。　The　two　men　stop　arguing　and　look　at　each　other；　puzzled。
　　What's　that？　one　asks。
　　Dunno；　the　other　replies。　Sounds　like　a　parade。
　　They　rush　to　the　window　and　it　is　a　parade…a　uniformed　band　marching　in　lock…step　with　the　sun　blazing　off　their　horns；　pretty　majo…rettes　twirling　batons　and　strutting　their　long；　tanned　legs；　convertibles　decked　with　flowers　and　filled　with　waving　celebrities。
　　The　two　men　stare　out　the　window；　their　quarrel　forgotten。　They　will　undoubtedly　return　to　it；　but　for　the　time　being　they　stand　together　like　the　best　of　friends；　shoulder　to　shoulder；　watching　as　the　parade　goes　by…
　　
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　　A　HORN　BLARED；　STARTLING　Jake　out　of　this　story；　which　was　as　vivid　as　a　powerful　dream。　He　realized　he　was　still　standing　in　the　middle　of　Lexington；　and　the　light　had　changed。　He　looked　around　wildly；　expecting　to　see　the　blue　Cadillac　bearing　down　on　him；　but　the　guy　who　had　tooted　his　horn　was　sitting　behind　the　wheel　of　a　yellow　Mustang　convert…ible　and　grinning　at　him。　It　was　as　if　everyone　in　New　York　had　gotten　a　whiff　of　happy…gas　today。
　　Jake　waved　at　the　guy　and　sprinted　to　the　other　side　of　the　street。　The　guy　in　the　Mustang　twirled　a　finger　around　his　ear　to　indicate　that　Jake　was　crazy；　then　waved　back　and　drove　on。
　　For　a　moment　Jake　simply　stood　on　the　far　corner；　face　turned　up　to　the　May　sunshine；　smiling；　digging　the　day。　He　supposed　prisoners　condemned　to　die　in　the　electric　chair　must　feel　this　way　when　they　learn　they　have　been　granted　a　temporary　reprieve。
　　The　voices　were　still。
　　The　question　was；　what　was　the　parade　which　had　temporarily　diverted　their　attention？　Was　it　just　the　unmon　beauty　of　this　spring　morning？
　　Jake　didn't　think　that　was　all。　He　didn't　think　so　because　that　sensa…tion　of　knowing　was　creeping　over　him　and　through　him　again；　the　one　which　had　taken　possession　of　him　three　weeks　ago；　as　he　approached　the　corner　of　Fifth　and　Forty…sixth。　But　on　May　9th；　it　had　been　a　feeling　of　impending　doom。　Today　it　was　a　feeling　of　radiance；　a　sense　of　goodness　and　anticipation。　It　was　as　if　。。。　as　if　。。。
　　White。　This　was　the　word　that　came　to　him；　and　it　clanged　in　his　mind　with　clear　and　unquestionable　lightness。
　　〃It's　the　White！〃　he　exclaimed　aloud。　〃The　ing　of　the　White！〃
　　He　walked　on　down　Fifty…fourth　Street；　and　as　he　reached　the　cor…ner　of　Second　and　Fifty…fourth；　he　once　more　passed　under　the　umbrella　of　ka…tet。
　　
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　　HE　TURNED　RIGHT；　THEN　stopped；　turned；　and　retraced　his　steps　to　the　corner。　He　needed　to　walk　down　Second　Avenue　now；　yes；　that　was　unquestionably　correct；　but　this　was　the　wrong　side　again。　When　the　light　changed；　he　hurried　across　the　street　and　turned　right　again。　That　feeling；　that　sense　of
　　（Whiteness）
　　rightness；　grew　steadily　stronger。　He　felt　half…mad　with　joy　and　relief。　He　was　going　to　be　okay。　This　time　there　was　no　mistake。　He　felt　sure　that　he　would　soon　begin　to　see　people　he　recognized；　as　he　had　recognized　the　fat　lady　and　the　pretzel　vendor；　and　they　would　be　doing　things　he　remembered　in　advance。
　　Instead；　he　came　to　the　bookstore。
　　
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　　THE　MANHATTAN　RESTAURANT　OF　THE　MIND；　the　sign　painted　in　the　window　read。　Jake　went　to　the　d（x》r。　There　was　a　chalkboard　hung　there；　it　looked　like　the　kind　you　saw　on　the　wall　in　diners　and　lunchrooms。
　　
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　　FEED　YOUR　NEED　TO　READ
　　
　　Jake　went　in；　aware　that　he　had；　for　the　first　time　in　three　weeks；　opened　a　door　without　hoping　madly　to　find　another　world　on　the　other　side。　A　bell　jingled　overhead。　The　mild；　spicy　smell　of　old　books　hit　him；　and　the　smell　was　somehow　like　ing　home。
　　The　restaurant　motif　continued　inside。　Although　the　walls　were　lined　with　shelves　of　books；　a　fountain…style　counter　bisected　the　room。　On　Jake's　side　of　the　counter　were　a　number　of　small　tables　with　wire…backed　Malt　Shoppe　chairs。　Each　table　had　been　arranged　to　display　the　day's　specials：　Travis　McGee　novels　by　John　D。　Mac…Donald；　Philip　Marlowe　novels　by　Raymond　Chandler；　Snopes　novels　by　William　Faulkner。　A　small　sign　on　the　Faulkner　table　said：　Some　rare　1st　eds　available…pls　ask。　Another　sign；　this　one　on　the　counter；　read　simply：　BROWSE！　A　couple　of　customers　were　doing　just　that。　They　sat　at　the　counter；　drinking　coffee　and　reading。　Jake　thought　this　was　without　a　doubt　the　best　bookstore　he'd　ever　been　in。
　　The　question　was；　why　was　he　here？　Was　it　luck；　or　was　it　part　of　that　soft；　insistent　feeling　that　he　was　following　a　trail…a　land　of　force…beam…that　had　been　left　for　him　to　find？
　　He　glanced　at　the　display　on　a　small　table　to　his　left　and　knew　the　answer。
　　
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　　IT　WAS　A　DISPLAY　of　children's　books。　There　wasn't　much　room　on　the　table；　so　there　were　only　about　a　dozen　of　them…Alice's　Adventures　in　Wonderland；　The　Hobbit；　Tom　Sawyer；　things　like　that。　Jake　had　been　attracted　by　a　storybook　obviously　meant　for　very　young　children。　On　the　bright　green　cover　was　an　anthropomorphic　lootive　puffing　its　way　up　a　hill。　Its　cowcatcher　（which　was　bright　pink）　wore　a　happy　grin　and　its　headlight　was　a　cheerful　eye　which　seemed　to　invite　Jake　Cham…bers　to　e　inside　and　read　all　about　it。　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo；　the　title　proclaimed；　Story　and　Pictures　by　Beryl　Evans。　Jake's　mind　flashed　back　to　his　Final　Essay；　with　the　picture　of　the　Amtrak　train　on　the　title…page　and　the　words　choo…choo　written　over　and　over　again　inside。
　　He　grabbed　the　book　and　clutched　it　tightly；　as　if　it　might　fly　away　if　he　relaxed　his　grip。　And　as　he　looked　down　at　the　cover；　Jake　found　that　he　did　not　trust　the　smile　on　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo's　face。　YOM　look　happy；　but　I　think　that's　just　the　mask　you　wear；　he　thought。　I　don't　think　you're　happy　at　all。　And　I　don't　think　Charlie's　your　real　name；　either。
　　These　were　crazy　thoughts　to　be　having；　undoubtedly　crazy；　but　they　did　not　feel　crazy。　They　felt　sane。　They　felt　true。
　　Standing　next　to　the　place　where　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo　had　been　was　a　tattered　paperback。　The　cover　was　quite　badly　torn　and　had　been　mended　with　Scotch　tape　now　yellow　with　age。　The　picture　showed　a　puzzled…looking　boy　and　girl　with　a　forest　of　question…marks　over　their　heads。　The　title　of　this　book　was　Riddle…De…Dum！　Brain…Twisters　and　Puzzles　for　Everyone！　No　author　was　credited。
　　Jake　tucked　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo　under　his　arm　and　picked　up　the　riddle　book。　He　opened　it　at　random　and　saw　this。
　　When　is　a　door　not　a　door？
　　〃When　it's　a　jar；〃　Jake　muttered。　He　could　feel　sweat　popping　out　on　his　forehead　。　。　。　his　arms　。。。　all　over　his　body。
　　〃When　it's　ajar！〃
　　〃Find　something；　son？〃　a　mild　voice　inquired。
　　Jake　turned　around　and　saw　a　fat　guy　in　an　open…throated　white　shirt　standing　at　the　end　of　the　counter。　His　hands　were　stuffed　in　the　pockets　of　his　old　gabardine　slacks。　A　pair　of　half…glasses　were　pushed　up　on　the　bright　dome　of　his　bald　head。
　　〃Yes；〃　Jake　said　feverishly。　〃These　two。　Are　they　for　sale？〃
　　〃Everything　you　see　is　for　sale；〃　the　fat　guy　said。　〃The　building　itself　would　be　for　sale；　if　I　owned　it。　Alas；　I　only　lease。〃　He　held　out　his　hand　for　the　books　and　for　a　moment　Jake　balked。　Then；　reluctantly；　he　handed　them　over。　Part　of　him　expected　the　fat　guy　to　flee　with　them；　and　if　he　did…if　he　gave　the　slightest　indication　ol　trying　it…Jake　meant　to　tackle　him；　rip　the　books　out　of　his　hands；　and　boogie。　He　needed　those　books。
　　〃Okay；　let's　see　what　yon　got；〃　the　fat　man　said。　〃By　the　way；　I'm　Tower。　Calvin　Tower。〃　He　stuck　out　his　hand。
　　Jake's　eyes　widened；　and　he　took　an　involuntary　step　backward。　〃What？〃
　　The　fat　guy　looked　at　him　with　some　interest。　〃Calvin　Tower。　Which　word　is　profanity　in　your　language；　O　Hyperborean　Wanderer？〃
　　〃Huh？〃
　　〃I　just　mean　you　look　like　someone　goosed　you；　kid。〃
　　〃Oh。　Sorry。〃　He　clasped　Mr。　Tower's　large；　soft　hand；　hoping　the　man　wouldn't　pursue　it。　The　name　had　given　him　a　jump；　but　he　didn't　know　why。　〃I'm　Jake　Chambers。〃
　　Calvin　Tower　shook　his　hand。　〃Good　handle；　pard。　Sounds　like　the　footloose　hero　in　a　Western　novel…the　guy　who　blows　into　Black　Fork；　Arizona；　cleans　up　the　town；　and　then　travels　on。　Something　by　Wayne　D。　Overholser；　maybe。　Except　you　don't　look　footloose；　Jake。　You　look　like　you　decided　the　day　was　a　little　too　nice　to　spend　in　school。〃
　　〃Oh　。。。　no。　We　finished　up　last　Friday。〃
　　Tower　grinned。　〃Uh…huh。　I　bet。　And　you've　gotta　have　these　two　items；　huh？　It's　sort　of　funny；　what　people　have　to　have。　Now　you…I　would　have　pegged　you　as　a　Robert　Howard　land　of　kid　from　the　jump；　looking　for　a　good　deal　on　one　of　those　nice　old　Donald　M。　Grant　editions…the　ones　with　the　Roy　Krenkel　paintings。　Dripping　swords；　mighty　thews；　and　Conan　the　Barbarian　hacking　his　way　through　the　Stygian　hordes。〃
　　〃That　sounds　pretty　good；　actually。　These　are　for　。　。　。　uh；　for　my　little　brother。　It's　his　birthday　next　week。〃
　　Calvin　Tower　used　his　thumb　to　flip　his　glasses　down　onto　his　nose　and　had　a　closer　look　at　Jake。　〃Really？　You　look　like　an　only　child　to　me。　An　only　child　if　I　ever　saw　one；　enjoying　a　day　of　French　leave　as　Mistress　May　trembles　in　her　green　gown　just　outside　the　bosky　dell　of　June。〃
　　〃e　again？〃
　　〃Never　mind。　Spring　always　puts　me　in　a　William　Cowper…ish　mood。　People　are　weird　but　interesting；　Tex…am　I　right？〃
　　〃I　guess　so；〃　Jake　said　cautiously。　He　couldn't　decide　if　he　liked　this　odd　man　or　not。
　　One　of　the　counter…browsers　spun　on　his　stool。　He　was　holding　a　cup　of　coffee　in　one　hand　and　a　bartered　paperback　copy　of　The　Plague　in　the　other。　〃Quit　pulling　the　kid's　chain　and　sell　him　the　books；　Cal；〃　he　said。　〃We've　still　got　time　to　finish　this　game　of　chess　before　the　end　of　the　world；　if　you　hurry　up。〃
　　〃Hurry　is　antithetical　to　my　nature；〃　Cal　said；　hut　he　opened　Charlie　the　Choo…Choo　and　peered　at　the　price　pencilled　on　the　flyleaf。　〃A　fairly　mon　book；　but　this　copy's　in　unusually　fine　condition。　Lit