ib.thewaspfactory-第4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！


　rings　inside。　I　altered　course　slightly　to　overfly　it；　going　'Trrrrrfffaow！　Trrrrrrrrrrrrrfffaow！'　and　kicking　it　on　the　run；　blasting　a　dirty　fountain　of　sand　and　jelly　up　and　around　me。　'Puchrrt！'　went　the　noise　of　the　explosion。　I　banked　again　and　headed　for　the　Bunker。
　　
　　The　Poles　were　in　good　repair。　I　didn't　need　the　bag　of　heads　and　bodies。　I　visited　them　all；　working　through　the　morning；　planting　the　dead　wasp　in　its　paper　coffin　not　between　two　of　the　more　important　Poles；　as　I　had　intended　originally；　but　under　the　path；　just　on　the　island　side　of　the　bridge。　While　I　was　there　I　climbed　up　the　suspension　cables　to　the　top　of　the　mainland　tower　and　looked　around。　I　could　see　the　top　of　the　house　and　one　of　the　skylights　over　the　loft。　I　could　also　see　the　spire　of　the　Church　of　Scotland　in　Porteneil；　and　some　smoke　ing　up　from　the　town　chimneys。　I　took　the　small　knife　from　my　left　breast　pocket　and　nicked　my　left　thumb　carefully。　I　smeared　the　red　stuff　over　the　top　of　the　main　beam　which　crosses　from　one　I…girder　to　the　other　on　the　tower；　then　wiped　my　small　wound　with　an　antiseptic　tissue　from　one　of　my　bags。　I　scrambled　back　down　after　that　and　retrieved　the　ball…bearing　I　had　hit　the　sign　with　the　day　before。
　　
　　The　first　Mrs　Cauldhame；　Mary；　who　was　Eric's　mother；　died　in　childbirth　in　the　house。　Eric's　head　was　too　big　for　her；　she　haemorrhaged　and　bled　to　death　on　the　marital　bed　back　in　I960。　Eric　has　suffered　from　quite　severe　migraine　all　his　life；　and　I　am　very　much　inclined　to　attribute　the　ailment　to　his　manner　of　entry　into　the　world。　The　whole　thing　about　his　　migraine　and　his　dead　mother　had；　I　think；　a　lot　to　do　with　What　Happened　To　Eric。　Poor　unlucky　soul；　he　was　just　in　the　wrong　place　at　the　wrong　time；　and　something　very　unlikely　happened　which　by　sheer　chance　mattered　more　to　him　than　anybody　else　it　could　have　happened　to。　But　that's　what　you　risk　when　you　leave　here。
　　
　　Thinking　about　it；　that　means　that　Eric　has　killed　somebody；　too。　I　had　thought　that　I　was　the　only　murderer　in　the　family；　but　old　Eric　beat　me　to　it；　killing　his　mum　before　he　had　even　drawn　breath。　Unintentional；　admittedly；　but　it　isn't　always　the　thought　that　counts。
　　
　　The　Factory　said　something　about　fire。
　　
　　I　was　still　thinking　about　that；　wondering　what　it　really　meant。　The　obvious　interpretation　was　that　Eric　was　going　to　set　fire　to　some　dogs；　but　I　was　too　wise　in　the　ways　of　the　Factory　to　treat　that　as　definite；　I　suspected　there　was　more　to　it。
　　
　　
　　
　　In　a　way；　I　was　sorry　Eric　was　ing　back。　I　had　been　thinking　of　having　a　War　shortly；　maybe　in　the　next　week　or　so；　but　with　Eric　probably　going　to　make　an　appearance　I　had　decided　against　it。　I　hadn't　had　a　good　War　for　months；　the　last　one　had　been　the　Ordinary　Soldiers　versus　the　Aerosols。　In　that　scenario；　all　the　72nd…scale　armies；　plete　with　their　tanks　and　guns　and　trucks　and　stores　and　helicopters　and　boats；　had　to　unite　against　the　Aerosol　Invasion。　The　Aerosols　were　almost　impossible　to　stop；　and　the　soldiers　and　their　weapons　and　equipment　were　getting　burned　and　melted　all　over　the　place　until　one　brave　soldier　who　had　clung　on　to　one　of　the　Aerosols　as　it　flew　back　to　its　base　came　back　（after　many　adventures）　with　the　news　that　their　base　was　a　breadboard　moored　under　an　overhang　on　an　inland　creek。　A　bined　force　of　mandos　got　there　just　in　time　and　blew　the　base　to　smithereens；　finally　blowing　up　the　overhang　on　top　of　the　smoking　remains。　A　good　War；　with　all　the　right　ingredients　and　a　more　spectacular　ending　than　most　（I　even　had　my　father　asking　me　what　all　the　explosions　and　the　fire　had　been　about；　when　I　got　back　to　the　house　that　evening）；　but　too　long　ago。
　　
　　Anyway；　with　Eric　on　his　way；　I　didn't　think　it　would　be　a　good　idea　to　start　another　War　only　to　have　to　abandon　it　in　the　middle　of　things　and　start　dealing　with　the　real　world。　I　decided　I　would　postpone　hostilities　for　a　while。　Instead；　after　I　had　anointed　a　few　of　the　more　important　Poles　with　precious　substances；　I　built　a　dam　system。
　　
　　When　I　was　younger　I　used　to　have　fantasies　about　saving　the　house　by　building　a　dam。　There　would　be　a　fire　in　the　grass　on　the　dunes；　or　a　plane　would　have　crashed；　and　all　that　stopped　the　cordite　in　the　cellar　from　going　up　would　be　me　diverting　some　of　the　water　from　a　dam　system　down　a　channel　and　into　the　house。　At　one　time　my　major　ambition　was　to　have　my　father　buy　me　an　excavator　so　that　I　could　make　really　big　dams。　But　I　have　a　far　more　sophisticated；　even　metaphysical；　approach　to　dam…building　now。　I　realise　that　you　can　never　really　win　against　the　water；　it　will　always　triumph　in　the　end；　seeping　and　soaking　and　building　up　and　undermining　and　overflowing。　All　you　can　really　do　is　construct　something　that　will　divert　it　or　block　its　way　for　a　while；　persuade　it　to　do　something　it　doesn't　really　want　to　do。　The　pleasure　es　from　the　elegance　of　the　promise　you　strike　between　where　the　water　wants　to　go　（guided　by　gravity　and　the　medium　it's　moving　over）　and　what　you　want　to　do　with　it。
　　
　　Actually；　I　think　that　life　has　few　pleasures　to　pare　with　dam…building。　Give　me　a　good　broad　beach　with　a　reasonable　slope　and　not　too　much　seaweed；　and　a　fair…sized　stream；　and　I'll　be　happy　all　day；　any　day。
　　
　　By　that　time　the　sun　was　well　up；　and　I　took　off　my　jacket　to　lay　it　with　my　bags　and　binoculars。　Stoutstroke　dipped　and　bit　and　sliced　and　dug；　building　a　huge　triple…deck　dam；　the　main　section　of　which　backed　up　the　water　in　the　North　Burn　for　eighty　paces；　not　far　off　the　record　for　the　position　I　had　chosen。　I　used　my　usual　metal　overflow　piece；　which　I　keep　hidden　in　the　dunes　near　the　best　dam…building　site；　and　the　piece　de　resistance　was　an　aqueduct　bottomed　with　an　old　black　plastic　rubbish…bag　I'd　found　in　the　driftwood。　The　aqueduct　carried　the　overflow　stream　over　three　sections　of　a　by…pass　channel　I'd　cut　from　further　up　the　dam。　I　built　a　little　village　downstream　from　the　dam；　plete　with　roads　and　a　bridge　over　the　remnant　of　the　burn；　and　a　church。
　　
　　Bursting　a　good　big　dam；　or　even　just　letting　it　overflow；　is　almost　as　satisfying　as　planning　and　building　it　in　the　first　place。　I　used　little　shells　to　represent　the　people　in　the　town；　as　usual。　Also　as　usual；　none　of　the　shells　survived　the　flood　when　the　dam　burst；　they　all　sank；　which　meant　that　everybody　died。
　　
　　By　that　time　I　was　very　hungry；　my　arms　were　getting　sore　and　my　hands　were　red　with　gripping　the　spade　and　digging　into　the　sand　by　themselves。　I　watched　the　first　flood　of　water　race　down　to　the　sea；　muddy　and　littered；　then　turned　to　head　for　home。
　　
　　'Did　I　hear　you　talking　on　the　phone　last　night？'　my　father　said。
　　
　　I　shook　my　head。　'Nope。'
　　
　　We　were　finishing　our　lunch；　sitting　in　the　kitchen；　me　with　my　stew；　my　father　with　brown　rice　and　seaweed　salad。　He　had　his　Town　Gear　on；　brown　brogues；　brown　tweed　three…piece　suit；　and　on　the　table　sat　his　brown　cap。　I　checked　my　watch　and　saw　that　it　was　Thursday。　It　was　very　unusual　for　him　to　go　anywhere　on　a　Thursday；　whether　Porteneil　or　any　further　afield。　I　wasn't　going　to　ask　him　where　he　was　going　because　he'd　only　lie。　When　I　used　to　ask　him　where　he　was　going　he　would　tell　me　'To　Phucke'；　which　he　claimed　was　a　small　town　to　the　north　of　Inverness。　It　was　years　and　a　lot　of　funny　looks　in　the　town　before　I　learned　the　truth。
　　
　　'I'm　going　out　today；'　he　told　me　between　mouthfuls　of　rice　and　salad。　I　nodded；　and　he　continued：　'I'll　be　back　late。'　Perhaps　he　was　going　to　Porteneil　to　get　drunk　in　the　Rock　Hotel；　or　perhaps　he　was　off　to　Inverness；　where　he　often　goes　on　business　he　prefers　to　keep　mysterious；　but　I　suspected　that　it　was　really　something　to　do　with　Eric。
　　
　　'Right；'　I　said。
　　
　　'I'll　take　a　key；　so　you　can　lock　up　when　you　want　to。'　He　clattered　his　knife　and　fork　down　on　the　empty　plate　and　wiped　his　mouth　on　a　brown　napkin　made　from　recycled　paper。　'Just　don't　put　all　the　bolts　on；　all　right？'
　　
　　'Right。'
　　
　　'You'll　make　yourself　something　to　eat　this　evening；　h'm？'
　　
　　I　nodded　again；　not　looking　up　as　I　ate。
　　
　　'And　you'll　do　the　washing…up？'
　　
　　I　nodded　again。
　　
　　'I　don't　think　Diggs'll　e　round　again；　but；　if　he　does；　I　want　you　to　stay　out　of　his　way。'
　　
　　'Don't　worry；'　I　told　him；　and　sighed。
　　
　　'You'll　be　all　right；　then？'　he　said；　standing。
　　
　　'M'm…h'm；'　I　said；　cleaning　up　the　last　of　the　stew。
　　
　　'I'll　be　off；　then。'
　　
　　I　looked　up　in　time　to　see　him　place　his　cap　on　his　head　and　look　round　the　kitchen；　patting　his　pockets　as　he　did　so。　He　looked　at　me　again　and　nodded。
　　
　　I　said：　'Goodbye。'
　　
　　'Yes；'　he　said。　'Right　you　are。'
　　
　　'I'll　see　you　later。'
　　
　　'Yes。'　He　turned　round；　then　turned　back；　looked　once　more　round　the　room；　then　shook　his　head　quickly　and　went　to　the　door；　taking　his　stick　from　the　corner　by　the　washing　machine　on　his　way　out。　I　heard　the　outer　door　slam；　then　silence。　I　sighed。
　　
　　I　waited　a　minute　or　so　then　got　up；　leaving　my　almost　clean　plate；　and　went　through　the　house　to　the　lounge；　where　I　could　see　the　path　leading　away　through　the　dunes　towards　the　bridge。　My　father　was　walking　along　it；　head　bowed；　going　quickly　with　a　sort　of　anxious　swagger　as　he　swung　the　stick。　As　I　watched；　he　struck　out　with　it　at　some　wild　flowers　growing　by　the　path…side。
　　
　　I　ran　upstairs；　pausing　by　the　back　stairwell　window　to　watch　my　father　disappear　round　the　dune　before　the　bridge；　ran　up　the　stairs；　got　to　the　door　to　the　study　and　twisted　the　handle　briskly。　The　door　was　firm；　it　didn't　shift　a　millimetre。　One　day　he'd　forget；　I　was　sure；　but　not　today。
　　
　　
　　After　I　had　finished　my　meal　and　done　the　washing…up；　I　went　to　my　room；　checked　the　home…brew　and　got　my　air…rifle。　I　made　sure　I　had　sufficient　pellets　in　my　jacket　pockets；　then　headed　out　of　the　house　for　the　Rabbit　Grounds　on　the　mainland；　between　the　large　branch　of　the　creek　and　the　town　dump。
　　
　　I　don't　like　using　the　gun；　it's　almost　too　accurate　for　me。　The　catapult　is　an　Inside　thing；　requiring　that　you　and　i