ib.thewaspfactory-第34部分

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as　almost　surprised　my　father　hadn't　been　able　to　hear　it　booming　through　the　floorboards　above　him。　I　waited　for　a　while；　but　there　were　no　more　noises；　just　that　distant　white　sound　from　the　lounge。　It　sounded　as　though　he　had　left　the　television　on；　between　channels。
　　
　　I　lay　there；　gave　him　five　minutes；　then　I　got　up　slowly；　brushed　myself　down；　tucked　my　shirt　in；　picked　up　the　bag　in　the　darkness；　attached　my　catapult　to　my　belt；　felt　around　for　my　waistcoat　and　found　it；　then　with　all　my　gear　on　crept　down　the　ladder　and　on　to　the　landing；　then　along　it　and　softly　downstairs。
　　
　　In　the　lounge；　the　television　sparkled　its　colourful　hiss　to　an　empty　room。　I　went　to　it；　clicked　it　off。　I　turned　to　go　and　saw　my　father's　tweed　jacket　lying　crumpled　in　a　chair。　I　picked　it　up　and　it　jingled。　I　felt　through　the　pockets　as　I　wrinkled　my　nose　at　the　stench　of　drink　and　smoke　ing　off　it。　My　hand　closed　around　a　bunch　of　keys。
　　
　　I　brought　them　out　and　stared　at　them。　There　was　the　front…door　key；　the　back…door　key；　the　cellar　key；　shed　key；　a　couple　of　smaller　ones　I　didn't　recognise；　and　another　key；　a　key　to　one　of　the　rooms　in　the　house；　like　the　key　for　my　room　but　a　different　cut。　I　felt　my　mouth　start　to　dry　up；　and　saw　my　hand　start　to　shake　in　front　of　me。　Sweat　sparkled　on　it；　beading　suddenly　in　the　lines　of　the　palm。　It　might　be　his　bedroom　key　or。。。。
　　
　　I　ran　upstairs；　three　at　a　time；　only　breaking　rhythm　for　the　noisy　ones。　I　went　up　past　the　study；　up　to　my　father's　bedroom。　The　door　was　ajar；　its　key　was　in　the　lock。　I　could　hear　my　father　snoring。　I　closed　the　door　gently　and　ran　back　down　to　the　study。　I　put　the　key　in　the　lock；　and　it　turned　with　well…oiled　ease。　I　stood　there　for　a　second　or　two；　then　turned　the　handle；　opened　the　door。
　　
　　I　put　the　light　on。　The　study。
　　
　　It　was　cluttered　and　full；　stuffy　and　warm。　The　light　in　the　centre　of　the　ceiling　had　no　shade；　and　was　very　bright。　There　were　two　desks；　a　bureau；　and　a　camp　bed　with　a　mess　of　sheets　lying　twisted　on　it。　There　was　a　bookcase；　two　large　tables　standing　together　covered　with　various　bottles　and　pieces　of　chemical　apparatus；　test　tubes　and　bottles　and　a　condenser　linked　to　a　sink　in　the　corner。　The　place　smelled　of　something　like　ammonia。　I　turned；　stuck　my　head　out　of　the　door　into　the　hall；　listened；　heard　very　distant　snoring；　then　took　the　key　and　closed　the　door；　locking　myself　in　and　leaving　the　key　in　the　door。
　　
　　It　was　as　I　turned　away　from　the　door　that　I　saw　it。　A　specimen…jar　standing　on　top　of　the　bureau；　which　was　placed　just　to　the　side　of　the　door　and　would　be　hidden　from　the　hall　outside　by　the　door　when　it　was　open。　In　the　jar　was　clear　liquid…alcohol；　I　assumed。　In　the　alcohol　was　a　tiny；　torn　set　of　male　genitalia。
　　
　　I　looked　at　it；　my　hand　still　on　the　key　I　had　been　turning；　and　my　eyes　filled。　I　felt　something　in　my　throat；　something　from　deep　in　me；　and　my　eyes　and　nose　seemed　to　fill　and　quickly　burst。　I　stood　and　I　cried；　letting　the　tears　trickle　down　my　cheeks　and　into　my　mouth；　salting　it。　My　nose　ran；　and　I　sniffed　and　snorted；　and　I　felt　my　chest　heave　and　a　muscle　in　my　jaw　tremored　uncontrollably。　I　forgot　all　about　Eric；　about　my　father；　about　everything　except　me；　and　my　loss。
　　
　　It　took　me　some　time　to　pull　myself　together；　and　I　didn't　do　it　by　being　angry　at　myself　or　telling　myself　not　to　act　like　some　stupid　girl；　but　I　just　calmed　down　naturally　and　evenly；　and　some　sort　of　weight　left　my　head　and　settled　in　my　stomach。　I　wiped　my　face　on　my　shirt　and　blew　my　nose　quietly；　then　started　searching　the　room　methodically；　ignoring　the　jar　on　the　bureau。　Maybe　that　was　all　the　secret　there　was；　but　I　wanted　to　be　sure。
　　
　　Most　of　it　was　junk。　Junk　and　chemicals。　The　drawers　of　the　desk　and　the　bureau　were　filled　with　ancient　photographs　and　papers。　There　were　old　letters；　old　bills　and　notes；　deeds　and　forms　and　insurance　policies　（none　for　me；　and　all　expired　long　since　anyway）；　pages　from　a　short　story　or　novel　somebody　had　been　writing　on　a　cheap　typewriter；　covered　in　corrections　and　still　awful　（something　about　hippies　in　a　mune　in　the　desert　somewhere　making　contact　with　aliens）；　there　were　glass　paperweights；　gloves；　psychedelic　badges；　some　old　Beatles　singles；　a　few　copies　of　Oz　and　IT；　some　dry　pens　and　broken　pencils。　Rubbish；　all　rubbish。
　　
　　Then　I　came　to　part　of　the　bureau　which　was　locked：　one　section　under　the　roll…top　hinged　at　the　bottom　with　a　keyhole　in　the　top　edge。　I　got　the　keys　from　the　door　and；　sure　enough；　one　of　the　small　ones　fitted。　The　flap　hinged　down　and　I　took　out　the　four　small　drawers　set　behind　it　and　set　them　on　the　working…surface　of　the　bureau。
　　
　　I　stared　at　their　contents　until　my　legs　got　shaky　and　I　had　to　sit　down　on　the　rickety　little　chair　which　had　been　half…undemeath　the　bureau。　I　put　my　head　in　my　hands　and　I　was　shaking　again。　How　much　was　I　going　to　have　to　go　through　this　night？
　　
　　I　put　my　hands　into　one　of　the　little　drawers　and　took　out　the　blue　box　of　tampons。　Shaking　fingers　brought　out　the　other　box　from　the　drawer。　It　was　labelled　'Hormones…male'。
　　
　　Inside　it　were　smaller　boxes；　neatly　numbered　in　black　biro　with　dates　going　about　six　months　into　the　future。　Another　box　from　a　different　drawer　said　'KBr'；　which　rang　a　bell　somewhere　in　my　mind；　but　only　at　the　very　back　of　it。　The　remaining　two　drawers　contained　tightly　rolled　bundles　of　five…　and　ten…pound　notes　and　Cellophane　bags　with　little　squares　of　paper　inside。　I　had　no　spare　capacity　for　trying　to　work　out　what　any　of　that　other　stuff　was；　though；　my　mind　was　racing　with　an　awful　idea　it　had　just　formed。　I　sat　there；　staring；　mouth　open；　and　I　thought。　I　didn't　look　up　at　the　jar。
　　
　　I　thought　of　that　delicate　face；　those　lightly　haired　arms。　I　tried　to　think　of　one　time　I　had　seen　my　father　naked　to　the　waist；　but　for　the　life　of　me　I　couldn't。　The　secret。　It　couldn't　be。　I　shook　my　head；　but　I　couldn't　let　go　of　the　idea。　Angus。
　　
　　Agnes。　I　only　had　his　word　for　anything　that　had　happened。　I　had　no　idea　at　all　how　much　Mrs　Clamp　could　be　trusted；　no　idea　what　sort　of　hold　either　of　them　might　have　over　the　other。　But　it　couldn't　be！　It　was　just　so　monstrous；　so　appalling！　I　stood　up　quickly；　letting　the　chair　fall　back　and　whack　on　the　wood　of　the　uncovered　boards。　I　grabbed　the　box　of　tampons　and　the　hormones；　took　the　keys；　unlocked　the　door　and　charged　out；　upstairs；　stuffing　the　keys　into　one　pocket　and　drawing　my　knife　from　its　sheath。　'Frank'll　get　you；'　I　hissed　to　myself。
　　
　　I　stormed　into　my　father's　room　and　swtiched　on　the　light。　He　was　lying　on　the　bed　with　his　clothes　on。　One　shoe　was　off；　it　lay　on　the　floor　under　his　foot；　which　dangled　over　the　side　of　the　bed。　He　was　on　his　back；　snoring。　He　stirred　and　flung　one　arm　over　his　face；　turning　away　from　the　light。　I　went　over　to　him；　took　the　arm　away　and　slapped　his　face　twice；　hard。　His　head　shook；　and　he　cried　out。　One　eye；　then　the　other　；　opened。　I　put　the　knife　up　to　his　eyes；　watching　them　focus　on　it　with　drunken　imprecision。　The　smell　of　drink　off　him　was　foul。
　　
　　'Frang？'　he　said　weakly。　I　jabbed　the　knife　at　him；　just　stopping　short　of　the　bridge　of　his　nose。
　　
　　'You　bastard；'　I　spat　at　him。　'What　the　hell　are　these？'　I　brandished　the　tampons　and　the　hormones　box　in　front　of　him　with　my　other　hand。　He　groaned　and　closed　his　eyes。　'Tell　me！'　I　screamed；　and　slapped　him　again；　using　the　back　of　the　hand　holding　the　knife。　He　tried　to　roll　away　from　me；　across　the　bed　under　the　open　window；　but　I　pulled　him　back　from　the　hot；　still　night。
　　
　　'No；　Frang；　no；'　he　said；　shaking　his　head　and　trying　to　push　my　hands　away。　I　let　the　boxes　go　and　got　hold　of　him　by　one　arm；　tightly。　I　drew　him　near　to　me；　pointed　the　knife　at　his　throat。
　　
　　'You're　going　to　tell　me；　or　by　God。。。。'　I　let　the　words　hang。　I　let　go　of　his　arm　and　moved　my　hand　down　to　his　trousers。　I　slipped　his　belt　out　of　the　little　guides　round　the　waist。　He　tried　to　stop　me　in　a　fumbling　way；　but　I　slapped　his　hands　back　and　prodded　him　in　the　throat　with　the　knife。　I　undid　the　belt　and　pulled　the　zip　down；　watching　him　all　the　time；　trying　not　to　imagine　what　I　might　find；　what　I　might　not　find。　I　undid　the　button　at　the　top　of　the　zip。　I　pulled　his　trousers　open；　pulled　his　shirt　up　and　out。　He　looked　at　me；　lying　on　the　bed　with　his　eyes　red　and　gleaming；　and　he　shook　his　head。
　　
　　'Wha'　you　goin'　t'do；　Frangie？　Am　sorry；　am　really　really　sorry。　Was　an　experimen；　sall。　Juss　an　experimen。。。。　Don'　do　anything'　t'me；　please；　Frangie。。。。　Please。。。。'
　　
　　'You　bitch；　you　bitch！'　I　said；　feeling　my　eyes　start　to　blur　and　my　voice　shake。　I　pulled　his/her　underpants　down　with　a　vicious　tug。
　　
　　Something　screamed　outside；　in　the　night　beyond　the　window。　I　stood　staring　at　my　father's　dark…haired；　large；　rather　greasy…looking　cock　and　balls；　and　something　animal；　out　there　on　the　landscape　of　the　island；　screamed。　My　father's　legs　were　quivering。　Then　came　a　light；　orange　and　wavering；　where　no　light　should　be；　out　there；　over　the　dunes；　and　more　screams；　bleatings　and　baas　and　screams；　everywhere　screams。
　　
　　'Jesus　Christ；　what's　that？'　my　father　breathed；　turning　a　shaking　head　towards　the　window。　I　stood　back；　then　went　past　the　bottom　of　the　bed；　looking　out　of　the　window。　The　awful　noises　and　the　light　on　the　far　side　of　the　dunes　seemed　to　be　ing　closer。　The　light　was　in　a　halo　over　the　big　dune　behind　the　house；　where　the　Skull　Grounds　were；　it　was　flickering　yellow　with　smoke…trails　in　it。　The　noise　was　like　that　the　burning　dog　had　made；　but　magnified；　repeated　and　repeated；　and　with　another　edge　to　it。　The　light　grew　stronger；　and　something　came　running　over　the　top　of　the　big　dune；　something　burning　and　screaming　and　running　down　over　the　sea…face　of　the　Skull　Grounds　dune。　It　was　a　sheep；　and　it　was　followed　by　more。　First　another　two；　then　half　a　dozen　animals　came　charging　over　the　grass　and　the　sand。　In　seconds　the　hillside　was　covered　with　burning　sheep；　their　wool　in　flames；　bleating　wildly　and　running　down　the　hill；　lighting　up　the　sandy　grass　and　weeds　and　leavi