dk.coldfire-第63部分

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ginning　to　feel　that　way　again。　
　He　looked　at　the　date　of　her　death　once　more…September　25…and　he　was　too　frightened　now　to　cry。　
　〃What　is　it？　Tell　me；〃　Holly　urged。　
　〃That's　when　I　came　with　the　flowers；　the　only　other　time　I've　ever　e；　the　day　I　remember　as　the　day　she　died。　September　twenty…fifth。　。　
　。　but　five　years　ago；　not　twenty…four。　It　was　the　nineteenth　anniversary　of　her　death。　。　。　but　at　the　time　it　seemed　to　me；　and　always　has；　that　she'd　only　just　then　died。〃　
　They　were　both　silent。　
　Two　large　blackbirds　wheeled　across　the　somber　sky；　shrieking；　and　disappeared　over　the　treetops。　
　Finally　Holly　said；　〃Could　it　be；　you　denied　her　death；　refused　to　accept　it　when　it　really　happened；　twenty…four　years　ago？　Maybe　you　were　only　able　to　accept　it　nineteen　years　later。　。　。　the　day　you　came　here　with　the　flowers。　That's　why　you　remember　her　dying　so　much　more　recently　than　she　did。　You　date　her　death　from　the　day　you　finally　accepted　it。〃　
　He　knew　at　once　that　she　had　hit　upon　the　truth；　but　the　answer　did　not　make　him　feel　better。　〃But　Holly；　my　God；　that　is　madness。〃　
　〃No；〃　she　said　calmly。　〃It's　self　defense；　part　of　the　same　defenses　you　erected　to　hide　so　much　of　that　year　when　you　were　ten。〃　
　She　paused；　took　a　deep　breath；　and　said；　〃Jim；　how　did　your　grandma　die？〃　〃She。　。　。〃　He　was　surprised　to　realize　that　he　could　not　recall　the　cause　of　Lena　Ironheart's　death。　One　more　fog…filled　blank。　〃I　don't　know。〃　
　〃I　think　she　died　in　the　mill。〃　
　He　looked　away　from　the　tombstone；　at　Holly。　He　tensed　with　alarm；　although　he　did　not　know　why。　〃In　the　windmill？　How？　What　happened？　How　can　you　know？〃　〃The　dream　I　told　you　about。　Climbing　the　mill　stairs；　looking　through　the　window　at　the　pond　below；　and　seeing　another　woman's　face　reflected　in　the　glass；　your　grandmother's　face。〃　
　〃It　was　only　a　dream。〃　
　Holly　shook　her　head。　〃No；　I　think　it　was　a　memory；　your　memory；　which　you　projected　from　your　sleep　into　mine。〃　
　His　heart　fluttered　with　panic　for　reasons　he　could　not　quite　discern。　
　〃How　can　it　have　been　my　memory　if　I　don't　have　it　now？〃　〃You　have　it。〃　
　He　frowned。　〃No。　Nothing　like　that。〃　
　〃It's　locked　down　in　your　subconscious；　where　you　can　access　it　only　when　you're　dreaming；　but　it's　there；　all　right。〃　
　If　she　had　told　him　that　the　entire　cemetery　was　mounted　on　a　carousel；　and　that　they　were　slowly　spinning　around　under　the　bleak　gun…metal　sky；　he　would　have　accepted　what　she　said　more　easily　than　he　could　accept　the　memory　toward　which　she　was　leading　him。　He　felt　as　if　he　were　spinning　through　light　and　darkness；　light　and　darkness；　fear　and　rage。　
　。　。　。　
　With　great　effort；　he　said；　〃But　in　your　dream。　。　。　I　was　in　the　high　room　when　grandma　got　there。〃　
　〃Yes。〃　
　〃And　if　she　died　there。　。　。〃　
　〃You　witnessed　her　death。〃　
　He　shook　his　head　adamantly。　〃No。　My　God；　I'd　remember　that　don't　you　think？〃　〃No。　I　think　that's　why　you　needed　nineteen　years　even　to　admit　to　yourself　that　she　died。　I　think　you　saw　her　die；　and　it　was　such　a　shock　that　it　threw　you　into　long…term　amnesia；　which　you　overlaid　with　fantasies；　always　more　fantasies。〃　
　A　breeze　stirred；　and　something　crackled　around　his　feet。　He　was　sure　it　was　the　bony　hands　of　his　grandmother　clawing　out　of　the　earth　to　seize　him；　but　when　he　looked　down　he　saw　only　withered　leaves　rattling　against　one　another　as　they　blew　across　the　grass。　
　With　each　heartbeat　now　like　a　fist　slamming　into　a　punching　bag；　Jim　turned　away　from　the　grave；　eager　to　get　back　to　the　car。　
　Holly　put　a　hand　on　his　arm。　〃Wait。〃　
　He　tore　loose　of　her；　almost　shoved　her　away。　He　glared　at　her　and　said；　〃I　want　to　get　out　of　here。〃　
　Undeterred；　she　grabbed　and　halted　him　again。　〃Jim；　where　is　your　grandfather？　Where　is　he　buried？〃　Jim　pointed　to　the　plot　beside　his　grandmother's。　〃He's　there；　of　course；　with　her。〃　
　Then　he　saw　the　left　half　of　the　granite　monument。　He　had　been　so　intently　focused　on　the　right　half；　on　the　impossible　date　of　his　grandmother's　death；　that　he　had　not　noticed　what　was　missing　from　the　left　side。　His　grandfather's　name　was　there；　as　it　should　be；　engraved　at　the　same　time　that　Lena's　had　been：　HENRY　JAMES　IRONHEART。　And　the　date　Of　his　birth。　But　that　was　all。　The　date　of　his　death　had　never　been　chiseled　into　the　stone。　
　The　iron　sky　was　pressing　lower。　
　The　trees　seemed　to　be　leaning　closer；　arching　over　him。　
　Holly　said；　〃Didn't　you　say　he　died　eight　months　after　Lena？〃　His　mouth　was　dry。　He　could　hardly　work　up　enough　spit　to　speak；　and　the　words　came　out　in　dry　whispers　like　susurrant　bursts　of　sand　blown　against　desert　stone。　〃What　the　hell　do　you　want　from　me？　I　told　you。　
　。　。　
　eight　months。　。　。　May　twenty…fourth　of　the　next　year。　。　。　。〃　
　〃How　did　he　die？〃　〃I。　。　。　I　don't。　。　。　I　don't　remember。〃　
　〃Illness？〃　Shut　up；　shut　up！　〃I　don't　know。〃　
　〃An　accident？〃　〃I。　。　。　just。　。　。　I　think。　。　。　I　think　it　was　a　stroke。〃　
　Large　parts　of　the　past　were　mists　within　a　mist。　He　realized　now　that　he　rarely　thought　about　the　past。　He　lived　totally　in　the　present。　
　He　had　never　realized　there　were　huge　holes　in　his　memories　simply　because　there　were　so　many　things　he　had　never　before　tried　to　remember。　
　〃Weren't　you　your　grandfather's　nearest　relative？〃　Holly　asked。　
　〃Yes。〃　
　〃Didn't　you　attend　to　the　details　of　his　funeral？〃　He　hesitated；　frowning。　〃I　think。　。　。　yes。　。　。〃　
　〃Then　did　you　just　forget　to　have　the　date　of　his　death　added　to　the　headstone？〃　He　stared　at　the　blank　spot　in　the　granite；　frantically　searching　an　equally　blank　spot　in　his　memory；　unable　to　answer　her。　He　felt　sick。　
　He　wanted　to　curl　up　and　close　his　eyes　and　sleep　and　never　wake　up；　let　something　else　wake　up　in　his　place。　。　。　。　
　She　said；　〃Or　did　you　bury　him　somewhere　else？〃　Across　the　ashes　of　the　burnt…out　sky；　the　shrieking　blackbirds　swooped　again；　slashing　calligraphic　messages　with　their　wings；　their　meaning　no　more　decipherable　than　the　elusive　memories　darting　through　the　deeper　grayness　of　Jim's　mind。　
　Holly　drove　them　around　the　corner　to　Tivoli　Gardens。　
　When　they　had　left　the　pharmacy；　Jim　had　wanted　to　drive　to　the　cemetery；　worried　about　what　he　would　find　there　but　at　the　same　time　eager　to　confront　his　misremembered　past　and　wrench　his　recollections　into　line　with　the　truth。　The　experience　at　the　grave　site　had　shaken　him；　however；　and　now　he　was　no　longer　in　a　rush　to　find　out　what　additional　surprise　awaited　him。　He　was　content　to　let　Holly　drive；　and　she　suspected　that　he　would　be　happier　if　she　just　drove　out　of　town；　turned　south；　and　never　spoke　to　him　of　New　Svenborg　again。　
　The　park　was　too　small　to　have　a　service　road。　They　left　the　car　at　the　street　and　walked　in。　
　Holly　decided　that　Tivoli　Gardens　was　even　less　inviting　close　up　than　it　had　been　when　glimpsed　from　a　moving　car　yesterday。　The　dreary　impression　it　made　could　not　be　blamed　solely　on　the　overcast　sky。　The　grass　was　half　parched　from　weeks　of　summer　sun；　which　could　be　quite　intense　in　any　central　California　valley。　Leggy　runners　had　sprouted　unchecked　from　the　rose　bushes；　the　few　remaining　blooms　were　faded　and　dropping　petals　in　the　thorny　sprawl。　The　other　flowers　looked　wilted；　and　the　two　benches　needed　painting。　
　Only　the　windmill　was　well　maintained。　It　was　a　bigger；　more　imposing　mill　than　the　one　at　the　farm；　twenty　feet　higher；　with　an　encircling　deck　about　a　third　of　the　way　up。　
　re　〃Why　are　we　here？〃　she　asked。　
　〃Don't　ask　me。　You're　the　one　who　wanted　to　e。〃　
　〃Don't　be　thick；　babe；〃　she　said。　
　She　knew　that　pushing　him　was　like　kicking　a　package　of　unstable　dynamite；　but　she　had　no　choice。　He　was　going　to　blow　anyway；　sooner　or　later。　
　Her　only　hope　of　survival　was　to　force　him　to　acknowledge　that　he　was　the　The　Enemy　before　that　personality　seized　control　of　him　permanently。　
　She　sensed　that　she　was　running　out　of　time。　
　an　She　said；　〃You're　the　one　who　put　it　on　the　itinerary　yesterday。　You　said　they'd　made　a　movie　here　once。〃　She　was　jolted　by　what　she　had　just　said。　
　let　〃Wait　a　sec…is　this　where　you　saw　Robert　Vaughn？　Was　he　in　the　movie　they　made　here？〃　With　a　bewildered　expression　that　slowly　gave　way　to　a　frown；　Jim　turned　in　place；　surveying　the　small　park。　At　last　he　headed　toward　the　windmill；　and　she　followed　him。　
　Two　historical…marker　lecterns　flanked　the　flagstone　path　in　front　of　the　mill　door。　They　were　all…weather　stone　stands。　The　reading　material　on　the　slanted　tops　was　protected　behind　sheets　of　plexiglass　in　watertight　frames。　
　The　lectern　on　the　left；　to　which　they　stepped　first；　provided　background　information　about　the　use　of　windmills　for　grain　milling；　water　pumping；　and　electricity　production　in　the　Santa　Ynez　Valley　from　the　1800s　until　well　into　the　twentieth　century；　followed　by　a　history　of　the　preserved　mill　six　to　in　front　of　them；　which　was　called；　rather　aptly；　the　New　Svenborg　Mill。　
　line　That　material　was　as　dull　as　dirt；　and　Holly　turned　to　the　second　lectern　over；　only　because　she　still　had　some　of　the　doggedness　and　appetite　for　facts　rises　that　had　made　her　a　passable　journalist。　
　Her　interest　was　instantly　piqued　The　title　at　the　top　of　the　second　plaque…THE　BLACK　WINDMILL：　BOOK　AND　MOVIE。　
　〃Jim；　look　at　this。〃　
　He　joined　her　by　the　second　marker。　
　There　was　a　photograph　of　the　jacket　of　a　young…adult　novel…The　in　it　Black　Windmill　by　Arthur　J。　Willott；　and　the　illustration　on　it　was　obviously　based　on　the　New　Svenborg　Mill。　Holly　read　the　lectern　text　with　s　was　growing　astonishment。　Willott；　a　resident　of　the　Santa　Ynez　valley　in　Solvang；　not　Svenborg…had　been　a　successful　author　of　novels　for　young　from　adults；　turning　out　fifty…two　titles　before　his　death　in　；　at　the　age　of　petals　eighty。　His　most　popular　and　enduring　book；　by　far；　had　been　a　fantasynches　adventure　about　a　haunted　old　mill　and　a　boy　who　discovered　that　the　ghosts　were　actually　aliens　from　another　world　and　that　under　the　milliosing　pond　was　a　spaceship　which　had　been　there　for　ten　thousand　years。　
　；　deck　〃No；〃　Jim　said　softly　but　with　some　anger；　〃no；　this　makes　no　sense；　this　can't　be　right。〃　
　Holly　recalled　a　moment　from　the　dream　in　which　she　had　been　in　Lena　Ironheart's　body；　climbing　t