sk.misery-第56部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　〃And　this！〃　She　slapped　herself　across　the　left　cheek　with　her　left　hand；　hard　enough　to　leave　an　imprint。　〃And　this！〃　The　right　cheek；　even　harder；　hard　enough　to　make　droplets　of　blood　fly　from　the　fingernail　gouges。
　〃STOP　it！〃　he　screamed。
　〃It's　what　they　want！〃　she　screamed　back。　She　raised　her　hands　to　her　forehead　and　pressed　them　against　the　wounds；　blotting　them。　She　held　her　bloody　palms　out　toward　him　for　a　moment。　Then　she　plodded　out　of　the　room。
　After　a　long；　long　time；　Paul　began　to　write　again。　It　went　slowly　at　first　…　the　image　of　Annie　pulling　those　furrows　into　her　skin　kept　intruding　…　and　he　thought　it　was　going　to　be　no　good；　he　had　just　better　pack　it　in　for　the　day；　when　the　story　caught　him　and　he　fell　through　the　hole　in　the　paper　again。
　As　always　these　days；　he　went　with　a　sense　of　blessed　relief
　
　
　33
　
　More　police　came　the　next　day：　local　yokels　this　time。　With　them　was　a　skinny　man　carrying　a　case　which　could　only　contain　a　steno　machine。　Annie　stood　in　the　driveway　with　them；　listening；　her　face　expressionless。　Then　she　led　them　into　the　kitchen。
　Paul　sat　quietly；　a　steno　pad　of　his　own　on　his　lap　（he　had　finished　the　last　legal　pad　the　previous　evening）；　and　listened　to　Annie's　voice　as　she　made　a　statement　which　consisted　of　all　the　things　she　had　told　David　and　Goliath　four　days　ago。　This；　Paul　thought；　was　nothing　more　than　blatant　harassment。　He　was　amused　and　appalled　to　find　himself　feeling　a　little　sorry　for　Annie　Wilkes　The　Sidewinder　cop　who　asked　most　of　the　questions　began　by　telling　Annie　she　could　have　a　lawyer　present　if　she　wanted。　Annie　declined　and　simply　re…told　her　story。　Paul　could　detect　no　deviations。
　They　were　in　the　kitchen　for　half　an　hour。　Near　the　end　one　of　them　asked　how　she　had　e　by　the　ugly…looking　scratches　on　her　forehead。
　〃I　did　it　in　the　night；〃　she　said。　〃I　had　a　bad　dream。〃
　〃What　was　that？〃　the　cop　asked。
　〃I　dreamed　that　people　remembered　me　after　all　this　time　and　started　ing　out　here　again；〃　Annie　said。
　When　they　were　gone；　Annie　came　to　his　room。　Her　face　was　doughy　and　distant　and　ill。
　〃This　place　is　turning　into　Grand　Central；〃　Paul　said。
　She　didn't　smile。　〃How　much　longer？〃　He　hesitated；　looked　at　the　pile　of　typescript　with　the　ragged　stack　of　handwritten　pages　on　top；　then　back　at　Annie。　〃Two　days；〃　he　said。　〃Maybe　three。〃
　〃The　next　time　they　e　they'll　have　the　search　warrant；〃　she　said；　and　left　before　he　could　reply。
　
　
　34
　
　She　came　in　that　evening　around　quarter　of　twelve　and　said：　〃You　should　have　been　in　bed　an　hour　ago；　Paul。〃　He　looked　up；　startled　out　of　the　story's　deep　dream　Geoffrey　…　who　had　turned　out　to　be　very　much　the　hero　of　this　one　…　had　just　e　face　to　face　with　the　hideous　queen　bee；　whom　he　would　have　to　battle　to　the　death　for　Misery's　life。
　〃It　doesn't　matter；〃　he　said。　〃I'll　turn　in　after　awhile。　Sometimes　you　get　it　down　or　it　gets　away。〃　He　shook　his　hand；　which　was　sore　and　throbbing。　A　large　hard　growth；　half　callus　and　half　blister；　had　risen　on　the　inside　of　his　index　finger；　where　the　pencil　pressed　most　firmly。　He　had　pills；　and　they　would　take　away　the　pain；　but　they　would　also　blur　his　thoughts。
　〃You　think　it's　good；　don't　you？〃　she　asked　softly。　〃Really　good。　You're　not　doing　it　just　for　me　anymore；　are　you？〃
　〃Oh　no；〃　he　said。　For　a　moment　he　trembled　on　the　edge　of　saying　something　more　…　of　saying；　It　was　never　for　you；　Annie；　or　all　the　other　people　out　there　who　sign　their　letters　〃Your　number…one　fan。〃　The　minute　you　start　to　write　all　those　people　are　at　the　other　end　of　the　galaxy；　or　something。　It　was　never　for　my　ex…wives；　or　my　mother；　or　for　my　father。　The　reason　authors　almost　always　put　a　dedication　on　a　book；　Annie；　is　because　their　selfishness　even　horrifies　themselves　in　the　end。
　But　it　would　be　unwise　to　say　such　a　thing　to　her。
　He　wrote　until　dawn　was　ing　up　in　the　east　and　then　fell　into　bed　and　slept　for　four　hours。　His　dreams　were　confused　and　unpleasant。　In　one　of　them　Annie's　father　was　climbing　a　long　flight　of　stairs。　He　had　a　basket　of　what　appeared　to　be　newspaper　clippings　in　his　arms。　Paul　tried；　to　cry　out　to　him；　to　warn　him；　but　every　time　he　opened　his　mouth　nothing　came　out　but　a　neatly　reasoned　paragraph　of　narration　…　although　this　paragraph　was　different　each　time　he　tried　to　scream；　it　always　opened　the　same　way：　〃One　day；　about　a　week　later　。　。　。　〃　And　now　came　Annie　Wilkes；　screaming；　rushing　down　the　hall；　hands　out…stretched　to　give　her　father　the　killing　push　。　。　。　only　her　screams　were　being　weird　buzzing　noises；　and　her　body　was　rippling　and　humping　and　changing　under　her　skirt　and　cardigan　sweater；　because　Annie　was　changing　into　a　bee。
　
　
　35
　
　No　one　official　came　by　the　following　day；　but　lots　of　i　unofficial　people　showed　up。　Designated　Gawkers。　One　of　the　cars　was　full　of　teenagers。　When　they　turned　into　the　driveway　to　reverse　direction；　Annie　rushed　out　and　screamed　at　them　to　get　off　her　land　before　she　shot　them　for　the　dirty　dogs　they　were。
　〃Fuck　off；　Dragon　Lady！〃　one　of　them　shouted。
　〃Where'd　you　bury　him？〃　another　yelled　as　the　car　backed　out　in　a　boil　of　dust。
　A　third　threw　a　beer…bottle。　As　the　car　roared　away；　Paul　could　make　out　a　bumper　sticker　pasted　to　the　rear　window。　SUPPORT　THE　SIDEWINDER　BLUE　DEVILS；　it　read。
　An　hour　later　he　saw　Annie　stalk　grimly　past　his　window；　drawing　on　a　pair　of　work…gloves　as　she　headed　for　the　barn。　She　came　back　some　time　later　with　the　chain。　She　had　taken　the　time　to　interlace　its　stout　steel　loops　with　barbed　wire。　When　this　prickly　knitting　was　padlocked　across　the　driveway；　she　reached　into　her　breast　pocket；　and　took　out　some　red　pieces　of　cloth。　These　she　tied　to　several　of　the　links　to　aid　visibility。
　〃It　won't　keep　the　cops　out；〃　she　said　when　she　finally　came　in；　〃but　it'll　keep　the　rest　of　the　brats　away。〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Your　hand　。　。　。　it　looks　swollen。〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃I　hate　to　be　a　cockadoodie　pest；　Paul；　but　。　。　。　〃
　〃Tomorrow；〃　he　said。
　〃Tomorrow？　Really？〃　She　brightened　at　once。
　〃Yes；　I　think　so。　Probably　around　six。〃
　〃Paul；　that's　wonderful！　Shall　I　start　reading　now；　or　…　〃
　〃I'd　prefer　that　you　wait。〃
　〃Then　I　will。〃　That　tender；　melting　look　had　crept　into　her　eyes　again。　He　had　e　to　hate　her　most　of　all　when　she　looked　that　way。　〃I　love　you；　Paul。　You　know　that；　don't　you？〃
　〃Yes；〃　he　said。　〃I　know。〃　And　bent　over　his　pad　again。
　
　
　36
　
　That　evening　she　brought　him　his　Keflex　pill　…　his　urinary　infection　was　improving；　but　very　slowly　…　and　a　bucket　of　ice。　She　laid　a　neatly　folded　towel　beside　it　and　left　without　saying　a　word。
　Paul　put　his　pencil　aside　…　he　had　to　use　the　fingers　of　his　left　hand　to　unbend　the　fingers　of　his　right　…　and　slipped　his　hand　into　the　ice。　He　left　it　there　until　it　was　almost　pletely　numb。　When　he　took　it　out；　the　swelling　seemed　to　have　gone　down　a　little。　He　wrapped　the　towel　around　it　and　sat；　looking　out　into　the　darkness；　until　it　began　to　tingle。　He　put　the　towel　aside；　flexed　the　hand　for　awhile　（the　first　few　times　made　him　grimace　with　pain；　but　then　the　hand　began　to　limber　up）；　and　started　to　write　again。
　At　dawn　he　rolled　slowly　over　to　his　bed；　lurched　in；　and　was　asleep　at　once。　He　dreamed　he　was　lost　in　a　snowstorm；　only　it　wasn't　snow；　it　was　flying　pages　which　filled　the　world；　destroying　direction；　and　each　page　was　covered　with　typing；　and　all　the　n's　and　t's　and　e's　were　missing；　and　he　understood　that　if　he　was　still　alive　when　the　blizzard　ended；　he　would　have　to　fill　them　all　in　himself；　by　hand；　deciphering　words　that　were　barely　there。
　
　
　37
　
　He　woke　up　around　eleven；　and　almost　as　soon　as　Annie　heard　him　stirring　about；　she　came　in　with　orange　juice；　his　pills；　and　a　bowl　of　hot　chicken　soup。　She　was　glowing　with　excitement。　〃It's　a　very　special　day；　Paul；　isn't　it？〃
　〃Yes。〃　He　tried　to　pick　up　the　spoon　with　his　right　hand　and　could　not。　It　was　puffy　and　red；　so　swollen　the　skin　was　shiny。　When　he　tried　to　bend　it　into　a　fist；　it　felt　as　though　long　rods　of　metal　had　been　pushed　through　it　at　random。　The　last　few　days；　he　thought；　had　been　like　some　nightmare　autographing　session　that　just　never　ended。
　〃Oh；　your　poor　hand！〃　she　cried。　〃I'll　get　you　another　pill！　I'll　do　it　right　now！〃
　〃No。　This　is　the　push。　I　want　my　head　clear　for　it。〃
　〃But　you　can't　write　with　your　hand　like　that！〃
　〃No；〃　he　agreed。　〃My　hand's　shot。　I'm　going　to　finish　this　baby　the　way　I　started　…　with　that　Royal。　Eight　or　ten　pages　should　see　it　through。　I　guess　I　can　fight　my　way　through　that　many　n's；　t's；　and　e's。〃
　〃I　should　have　gotten　you　another　machine；〃　she　said。　She　looked　honestly　sorry；　tears　stood　in　her　eyes。　Paul　thought　that　the　occasional　moments　like　this　were　the　most　ghastly　of　all；　because　in　them　he　saw　the　woman　she　might　have　been　if　her　upbringing　had　been　right　or　the　drugs　squirted　out　by　all　the　funny　little　glands　inside　her　had　been　less　wrong。　Or　both。　〃I　goofed。　It's　hard　for　me　to　admit　that；　but　it's　true。　It　was　because　I　didn't　want　to　admit　that　Dartmonger　woman　got　the　better　of　me。　I'm　sorry；　Paul。　Your　poor　hand。〃　She　raised　it；　gentle　as　Niobe　at　the　pool；　and　kissed　it。
　〃That's　all　right；〃　he　said。　〃We'll　manage；　Ducky　Daddles　and　I。　I　hate　him；　but　I've　got　a　feeling　he　hates　me　as　well；　so　I　guess　we're　even。〃
　〃Who　are　you　talking　about？〃
　〃The　Royal。　I've　nicknamed　it　after　a　cartoon　character。〃
　〃Oh　。　。　。〃　She　trailed　away。　Turned　off。　Came　unplugged。　He　waited　patiently　for　her　to　return；　eating　his　soup　as　he　did　so；　holding　the　spoon　awkwardly　between　the　first　and　second　fingers　of　his　left　hand。
　At　last　she　did　e　back　and　looked　at　him；　smiling　radiantly　like　a　woman　just　awakening　and　realizing　it　was　going　to　be　a　beautiful　day。　〃Soup　almost　gone？　I've　got　something　very　special；　if　it　is。〃　He　showed　her　the　bowl；　empty　except　for　a　few　noodles　stuck　to　the　bottom。　〃See　what　a　Do…Bee　I　am；　Annie？〃　he　said　without　even　a　trace　of　a　smile。
　〃You're　the　most　goodest　Do…Bee　there　ever　was；　Paul　and　you　get　a　whole　row　of　gold　stars！　In　fact　。　。　。　wait！　Wait　till　you　see　this！〃　She　left；　leaving　Paul　to　look　first　at　the　calendar　and　then　at　the　Arc　de　Triom