sk.thetalisman-第75部分

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re　a　startled　cry　went　up：
　　'Hey！　Hey；　someone's　takin　off！'
　　Jack　gaped　after　Ferd；　who　was　already　six　rows　over　and　humping　like　hell。　In　spite　of　seeing　his　own　plan　co…opted；　Jack　felt　a　moment　of　triumphant　excitement；　and　in　his　heart　he　wished　him　nothing　but　well。　Go！　Go；　you　sarcastic　son　of　a　bitch！　Go；　for　Jason's　sake！
　　'It's　Ferd　Janklow；'　Donny　Keegan　gurgled；　and　then　laughed　his　big；　whooping　laugh。
　　　
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　　The　boys　gathered　for　confession　in　the　mon　room　that　night　as　they　always　did；　but　confession　was　cancelled。　Andy　Warwick　strode　in；　announced　the　cancellation　with　abrupt　baldness；　and　told　them　they　could　have　an　hour　of　'fellowship'　before　dinner。　Then　he　strode　out。
　　Jack　thought　Warwick　had　looked；　under　his　patina　of　goose…stepping　authority；　frightened。
　　And　Ferd　Janklow　was　not　here。
　　Jack　looked　around　the　room　and　thought　with　glum　humor　that　if　this　was　'fellowship　one　with　the　other；'　he　would　hate　to　see　what　would　happen　if　Warwick　had　told　them　to　have　'a　quiet　hour。'　They　sat　around　the　big　long　room；　thirty…nine　boys　between　age　twelve　and　age　seventeen；　looking　at　their　hands；　picking　at　scabs；　morosely　biting　their　nails。　They　all　shared　a　mon　look…junkies　robbed　of　their　fix。　They　wanted　to　hear　confessions；　even　more；　they　wanted　to　make　confessions。
　　No　one　mentioned　Ferd　Janklow。　It　was　as　though　Ferd；　with　his　grimaces　at　Sunlight　Gardener's　sermons　and　his　pale　Delftware　hands；　had　never　existed。
　　Jack　found　himself　barely　able　to　restrain　an　impulse　to　stand　and　scream　at　them。　Instead；　he　began　to　think　as　hard　as　he　ever　had　in　his　life。
　　He's　not　here　because　they　killed　him。　They're　all　mad。　You　think　madness　isn't　catching？　Just　look　what　happened　at　that　nutty　place　down　in　South　America…when　the　man　in　the　reflector　sunglasses　told　them　to　drink　the　purple　grape　drink；　they　said　yassuh；　boss；　and　drank　it。
　　Jack　looked　around　at　the　dreary；　indrawn；　tired；　blank　faces…and　thought　how　they　would　light；　how　they　would　kindle；　if　Sunlight　Gardener　strode　in　here…if　he　strode　in　here　right　here　and　now。
　　They'd　do　it；　too；　if　Sunlight　Gardener　asked　them　to。　They'd　drink　it；　and　then　they'd　hold　me　and　Wolf；　and　they'd　pour　it　down　our　throats　as　well。　Ferd　was　right…they　see　something　on　my　face；　or　in　it；　something　that　came　into　me　in　the　Territories；　and　maybe　they　do　love　me　a　little　。　。　。　I　guess　that's　what　pulled　Heck　Bast's　bell…rope　anyway。　That　slob　isn't　used　to　loving　anything　or　anyone。　So；　yeah；　maybe　they　do　love　me　a　little　。　。　。　but　they　love　him　a　lot　more。　They'd　do　it。　They're　mad。
　　Ferd　could　have　told　him　that；　and；　sitting　there　in　the　mon　room；　Jack　supposed　that　Ferd　had　told　him。
　　He　told　Jack　he　had　been　mitted　to　the　Sunlight　Home　by　his　parents；　born…again　Christians　who　fell　down　on　their　knees　in　the　living　room　whenever　anyone　on　The　700　Club　began　to　say　a　prayer。　Neither　of　them　had　understood　Ferd；　who　was　cut　from　an　entirely　different　bolt　of　cloth。　They　thought　Ferd　must　be　a　child　of　the　devil…a　munistic；　radical　humanist　changeling。　When　he　ran　away　for　the　fourth　time　and　was　bagged　by　none　other　than　Franky　Williams；　his　parents　came　to　the　Sunlight　Home…where　Ferd　had　of　course　been　stashed…and　fell　in　love　with　Sunlight　Gardener　on　sight。　Here　was　the　answer　to　all　the　problems　their　bright；　troublesome；　rebellious　son　had　caused　them。　Sunlight　Gardener　would　educate　their　son　toward　the　Lord。　Sunlight　Gardener　would　show　him　the　error　of　his　ways。　Sunlight　Gardener　would　take　him　off　their　hands　and　get　him　off　the　streets　of　Anderson。
　　'They　saw　that　story　about　the　Sunlight　Home　on　Sunday　Report；'　Ferd　told　Jack。　'They　sent　me　a　postcard　saying　God　would　punish　liars　and　false　prophets　in　a　lake　of　fire。　I　wrote　them　back…Rudolph　in　the　kitchen　smuggled　the　letter　out　for　me。　Dolph's　a　pretty　good　guy。'　He　paused。　'You　know　what　the　Ferd　Janklow　definition　of　a　good　guy　is；　Jack？'
　　'No。'
　　'One　who　stays　bought；'　Ferd　said；　and　laughed　a　cynical；　hurt　laugh。　'Two　bucks　buys　Dolph's　mailman　services。　So　I　wrote　them　a　letter　and　said　that　if　God　punished　liars　the　way　they　said；　then　I　hoped　Sunlight　Gardener　could　find　a　set　of　asbestos　longjohns　in　the　other　world；　because　he　was　lying　about　what　goes　on　here　faster　than　a　horse　can　trot。　Everything　they　had　on　Sunday　Report…the　rumors　about　the　strait…jackets　and　about　the　Box…it　was　all　true。　Oh；　they　couldn't　prove　it。　The　guy's　a　nut；　Jack；　but　he's　a　smart　nut。　If　you　ever　make　a　mistake　about　that；　he'll　put　a　real　hurt　on　you　and　on　Phil　the　Fearless　Wolf…Boy　for　good　measure。'　
　　Jack　said；　'Those　Sunday　Report　guys　are　usually　pretty　good　at　catching　people　with　their　hands　in　the　pork　barrel。　At　least；　that's　what　my　mom　says。'
　　'Oh；　he　was　scared。　He　got　real　shrill　and　shrieky。　Ever　see　Humphrey　Bogart　in　The　Caine　Mutiny？　He　was　like　that　for　a　week　before　they　showed　up。　When　they　finally　got　here　he　was　all　sweetness　and　reason；　but　the　week　before　was　a　living　hell。　Mr。　Ice　Cream　was　shitting　in　his　pants。　That　was　the　week　he　kicked　Benny　Woodruff　down　the　stairs　from　the　third　floor　because　he　caught　him　with　a　Superman　ic。　Benny　was　out　cold　for　three　hours；　and　he　couldn't　quite　get　it　straight　who　he　was　or　where　he　was　until　that　night。'　
　　Ferd　paused。
　　'He　knew　they　were　ing。　Same　as　he　always　knows　when　the　state　inspectors　are　going　to　pull　a　surprise　inspection。　He　hid　the　strait…jackets　in　the　attic　and　made　believe　the　Box　was　a　hay…drying　shed。'　Ferd's　cynical；　hurt　laugh　again。
　　'Know　what　my　folks　did；　Jack？　They　sent　Sunny　Gardener　a　Xerox　of　my　letter　to　them。　'For　my　own　good；'　my　pop　says　in　his　next　letter　to　me。　And　guess　what？　It's　Ferd's　turn　in　the　Box；　courtesy　of　my　own　folks！'　
　　The　hurt　laugh　again。
　　'Tell　you　one　other　thing。　He　wasn't　kidding　at　night…chapel。　The　kids　that　talked　to　the　Sunday　Report　people　all　disappeared…the　ones　he　could　get　hold　of；　anyway。'
　　The　way　Ferd　himself　has　disappeared　now；　Jack　thought；　watching　Wolf　brood　across　the　room。　He　shivered。　His　hands　felt　very；　very　cold。
　　Your　friend　Phil　the　Fearless　Wolf…Boy。
　　Was　Wolf　starting　to　look　hairier　again？　So　soon？　Surely　not。　But　that　was　ing　of　course…it　was　as　relentless　as　the　tides。
　　And　by　the　way；　Jack；　while　we're　just　sitting　around　here　worrying　about　the　dangers　of　just　sitting　around　here；　how's　your　mother？　How's　Darling　Lil；　Queen　of　the　Bs？　Losing　weight？　Having　pain？　Is　she　finally　starting　to　feel　it　eat　into　her　with　its　sharp；　ratty　little　teeth　as　you　sit　here　growing　roots　in　this　weird　prison？　Is　Morgan　maybe　getting　ready　to　wind　up　the　lightning　and　give　the　cancer　a　hand？
　　He　had　been　shocked　at　the　idea　of　strait…jackets；　and　although　he　had　seen　the　Box…a　big　ugly　iron　thing　which　sat　in　the　Home's　back　yard　like　a　weird　abandoned　refrigerator…he　couldn't　believe　that　Gardener　actually　put　boys　in　it。　Ferd　had　slowly　convinced　him；　talking　in　a　low　voice　as　they　harvested　rocks　in　Far　Field。
　　'He's　got　a　great　setup　here；'　Ferd　had　said。　'It's　a　license　to　coin　money。　His　religious　shows　play　all　over　the　midwest　on　the　radio　and　over　most　of　the　country　on　cable　TV　and　the　indy　stations。　We're　his　captive　audience。　We　sound　great　on　the　radio　and　we　look　great　on　the　tube…when　Roy　Owdersfelt　isn't　milking　that　fucking　pimple　on　the　end　of　his　nose；　that　is。　He's　got　Casey；　his　pet　radio　and　TV　producer…Casey　videotapes　every　morning…chapel　and　audiotapes　every　night…chapel。　He　cuts　all　the　sound　and　picture　together　and　hypes　everything　until　Gardener　looks　like　Billy　Graham　and　us　guys　sound　like　the　crowd　in　Yankee　Stadium　during　the　seventh　game　of　the　World　Series。　That　isn't　all　Casey　does；　either。　He's　the　house　genius。　You　see　the　bug　in　your　room？　Casey　set　up　the　bugs。　Everything　feeds　into　his　control　room；　and　the　only　way　into　that　control　room　is　through　Gardener's　private　office。　The　bugs　are　voice…actuated；　so　he　doesn't　waste　any　tape。　Anything　juicy　he　saves　for　Sunlight　Gardener。　I've　heard　Casey　put　a　blue　box　on　Gardener's　phone　so　he　can　make　long…distance　phone　calls　free；　and　I　know　damned　well　he's　spliced　a　line　into　the　pay…TV　cable　that　goes　by　out　front。　You　like　the　idea　of　Mr。　Ice　Cream　settling　back　and　watching　a　big　double　feature　on　Cinemax　after　a　hard　day　of　selling　Jesus　to　the　masses？　I　like　it。　This　guy　is　as　American　as　spinner　hubcaps；　Jack；　and　here　in　Indiana　they　love　him　almost　as　much　as　they　love　high…school　basketball。'
　　Ferd　hawked　back　snot；　grimaced；　twisted　his　head；　and　spat　into　the　dirt。
　　'You're　kidding；'　Jack　said。
　　'Ferd　Janklow　never　kids　about　the　Marching　Morons　of　the　Sunlight　Home；'　Ferd　said　solemnly。　'He's　rich；　he　doesn't　have　to　declare　any　of　it　to　the　Internal　Revenue；　he's　got　the　local　school　board　buffaloed…I　mean；　they're　scared　to　death　of　him；　there's　this　one　woman　who　practically　skitters　every　time　she's　out　here；　looks　like　she'd　like　to　give　him　the　sign　against　the　evil　eye；　or　something…and　like　I　said；　he　always　seems　to　know　when　someone　from　the　State　Education　Board　is　going　to　pay　us　a　surprise　visit。　We　clean　this　place　from　top　to　bottom；　Bast　the　Bastard　takes　the　canvas　overcoats　up　to　the　attic；　and　the　Box　gets　filled　with　hay　from　the　barn。　And　when　they　e；　we're　always　in　class。　How　many　classes　you　been　in　since　you　landed　here　in　Indiana's　version　of　the　Love　Boat；　Jack？'
　　'None；'　Jack　said。
　　'None！'　Ferd　agreed；　delighted。　He　laughed　his　cynical；　hurt　laugh　again…that　laugh　said；　Guess　what　I　found　out　when　I　turned　eight　or　so？　I　found　out　that　I　was　getting　a　royal　fucking　from　life；　and　that　things　weren't　going　to　change　in　a　hurry。　Or　maybe　they　were　never　going　to　change。　And　although　it　bums　me　out；　it　also　has　its　funny　side。　You　know　what　I　mean；　jellybean？
　　　
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　　Such　was　the　run　of　Jack's　thoughts　when　hard　fingers　suddenly　grasped　the　back　of　his　neck　at　the　pressure…points　below　the　ears　and　lifted　him　out　of　his　chair。　He　was　turned　around　into　a　cloud　of　foul　breath　and　treated…if　that　was　the　word…to　the　sterile　moonscape　of　Heck　Bast's　face。
　　'Me　and　the　Reverend　was　still