pzb.drawingblood-第33部分

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　forearm。　He　had　to　put　some　on　the　outside；　Zach　thought；　to　match　the　ones　on　the　inside。　But　he　didn't　yet　know　Trevor　well　enough　to　say　that。　Instead　he　talked　of　New　Orleans；　the　daytime　bustle　of　the　French　Market；　the　way　the　cobblestone　streets　looked　at　night　under　the　gas　lamps　all　black　and　gold；　the　neon　smear　of　Bourbon　Street；　the　river　like　a　dirty　brown　vein　pulsing　through　the　city。
　　At　last　they　both　began　to　yawn。　Trevor　stood　up；　stretched　hugely。　Zach　watched　the　loose　sweatpants　ride　low　on　the　ridges　of　his　hipbones；　then　wondered　why　he　was　staring；　he'd　already　seen　it　all　this　afternoon。　〃Do　you　want　to　crash　here？〃
　　Finally。　〃That'd　be　great。〃
　　〃You　can　have　the　big　bedroom。　There's　a　mattress　and；　uh　。　。　。〃　Trevor　stared　at　the　floor。　〃Nobody　died　in　there　or　anything。〃
　　Zach　hadn't　expected　an　invitation　to　bed　down　with　Trevor；　was　still　trying　to　convince　himself　he　didn't　want　one。　But　he　couldn't　help　feeling　disappointed　as　he　said　good　night　and　left　the　kitchen。
　　He　untied　his　sneakers；　took　off　his　glasses；　and　was　about　to　lie　down　on　the　sagging　double　mattress　when　he　realized　that　his　head　and　back　were　throbbing　in　tandem。　He'd　been　running　on　pure　adrenaline　for　more　than　twenty…four　hours；　now　the　pot　and　the　long　drive　had　finally　kicked　in　to　give　him　the　great…granddaddy　of　all　body　aches；　and　he　hadn't　brought　any　kind　of　medicine。
　　He　padded　down　the　hall　to　Trevor's　room；　saw　that　the　light　was　still　on；　and　tapped　at　the　door。　〃Do　you　have　any　aspirin？〃
　　Trevor　was　sprawled　in　bed　reading　the　John　List　book。　〃Yeah；　I　think　so。〃　He　sat　up　and　rummaged　in　his　bag；　came　up　with　a　single　white　pill。　〃Here　you　go。　I　think　this　is　my　last　one。〃
　　〃Thanks。　G'night　again。〃　Zach　went　to　the　kitchen　and　drank　from　the　faucet；　put　the　pill　in　his　mouth；　and　washed　it　down。　A　chill　ran　along　his　spine　as　he　passed　the　hall　doorway　and　returned　to　his　room。　It　was　dank　and　dim；　empty　except　for　the　mattress　and　some　moldering　cardboard　boxes　in　the　shadowed　recesses　of　the　closet；　the　window　an　inky　rectangle　beaded　with　rain。
　　For　the　first　time　in　hours　Zach　found　himself　unnerved　by　the　house。　Sitting　in　the　bright　kitchen　talking　with　Trevor　was　one　thing。　Sleeping　by　himself　in　the　bedroom　of　a　suicide　and　a　murder　victim　whose　blood　still　stained　the　place　。　。　。　that　was　another。
　　But　he　wasn't　afraid　of　ghosts；　he　reminded　himself。　He　lay　down　on　the　dusty　mattress；　pulled　one　of　Kinsey's　blankets　over　him；　and　closed　his　eyes。
　　A　few　minutes　later　his　heart　gave　a　nauseating　lurch　and　began　to　race　so　hard　he　thought　it　might　just　punch　right　through　his　breastbone　like　an　angry　fist　made　of　muscle　and　blood。　Then　his　whole　chest　seized　up　and　he　was　sure　the　tortured　organ　had　simply　ceased　to　beat；　that　in　seconds　he　would　realize　he　was　dead。
　　He　felt　the　house　gather　itself　around　him；　its　rotting　boards　alive　and　watchful；　its　darkness　ready　to　enfold　him　in　velvety　arms　and　claim　him　for　its　own。
　　
　　Trevor　turned　out　the　light　and　lay　back　on　his　mattress；　listening　to　the　slow　creak　and　drip　of　the　house。　He　thought　that　somewhere　deep　within　the　hundreds　of　tiny　noises　there　might　be　a　murmuring　voice。　He　wondered　。　what　having　Zach　here　would　do　to　the　house's　subtle　chemistry。　He　wondered　why　he　had　let　Zach　stay。
　　It　was　only　for　one　night；　he　told　himself。　Zach　was　an　outsider　too；　and　he　would　surely　want　to　move　on　tomorrow。
　　But　that　didn't　explain　the　weird　sensation　they'd　had　of　almost　recognizing　each　other　this　afternoon。　And　it　didn't　explain　the　tightness　Trevor　felt　behind　his　eyes　when　he　looked　at　Zach；　or　the　uneasy　warmth　deep　in　his　stomach　when　he　thought　about　Zach　now。　He　was　so　smart　。　。　。　and　so　strange　。　。　。　and　he　had　the　smoothest　skin；　like　matte　paper　。　。　。
　　Probably　it　was　just　the　pot。　Trevor　had　smoked　too　much。　Stupid　to　think　it　could　teach　him　anything　of　his　father；　it　was　only　a　drug；　its　effects　as　subjective　as　those　of　sleep　or　sorrow。　Even　alcohol　was　nothing　but　a　drug。　In　his　heart　he　knew　it　hadn't　made　Bobby　kill　his　family　any　more　than　the　hammer　had。
　　The　idea　of　being　drunk　still　made　Trevor　feel　sick；　though。　All　he　could　remember　was　the　stinging　scent　of　whiskey　that　had　surrounded　Bobby　like　a　cloud　as　he　watched　his　five…year…old　son　drink　Seconal；　then　hugged　him　goodnight　for　the　last　time。
　　Trevor　heard　a　floorboard　creak　in　the　hall；　then　a　closer　sound。　The　door　of　his　room；　which　he　had　pushed　to；　slowly　swinging　open。　His　body　stiffened　and　his　ears　strained；　he　felt　his　pupils　dilating　hugely；　painfully　against　the　blackness。
　　〃Trevor？　You　still　awake？〃
　　It　was　Zach。
　　He　thought　of　not　answering；　of　pretending　to　be　asleep。　He　couldn't　imagine　what　Zach　wanted　now。　But　Zach　had　listened　to　him　this　afternoon。
　　〃I'm　awake；〃　he　said；　and　sat　up。
　　〃What　was　that　medicine　you　gave　me？〃
　　〃Aspirin；　like　you　asked　for。〃
　　〃Are　you　sure　it　was　aspirin？〃
　　〃Well；　Excedrin。　That's　what　I　always　take。〃
　　〃Oh；　god。〃　Zach　laughed　weakly。　〃That　shit　has　sixty…five　milligrams　of　caffeine　in　every　tablet。　I　can't　deal　with　caffeine。〃
　　〃What　happens？〃
　　〃It　hits　me　like　speed。　Bad　speed。〃
　　〃What　do　you　want　me　to　do？〃
　　〃Nothing。〃　He　felt　Zach's　weight　settle　onto　the　edge　of　the　mattress。　〃I'm　not　gonna　be　able　to　sleep　for　a　while；　though。　I　thought　maybe　we　could　talk　some　more。〃
　　〃Why？〃
　　〃Why　what？〃
　　〃Why　do　you　want　to　talk　to　me？〃
　　〃Why　shouldn't　I？〃
　　〃I　don't　understand　why　you　like　me。　The　first　time　I　ever　laid　eyes　on　you；　I　tried　to　knock　your　brains　out。　Now　I've　poisoned　you。　How　e　you're　still　here？〃
　　He　heard　Zach　try　to　laugh。　It　came　out　more　like　a　moan。　〃Just　persistent；　I　guess。〃
　　〃No。　Really。〃
　　〃Well　。。。〃　A　shudder　ran　through　Zach's　body；　into　the　mattress。　〃Do　you　mind　if　I　stretch　out　here？〃
　　〃I　guess　not。〃
　　Trevor　moved　to　one　side　of　the　bed。　He　felt　Zach　arranging　himself　on　the　other　side；　thought　he　could　feel　electricity　crackling　off　Zach's　skin。　When　Zach's　elbow　brushed　his；　it　gave　Trevor　a　sensation　like　the　shock　one　gets　from　walking　across　a　carpet　and　then　touching　metal。
　　〃First　of　all；〃　said　Zach；　〃you　didn't　try　to　knock　my　brains　out。　You　stopped。　Second；　you　didn't　know　caffeine　would　hurt　me。〃
　　〃Even　so…〃
　　〃Even　so；　seems　like　I　would　have　figured　out　by　now　that　you　aren't　exactly　good　for　my　health？〃
　　〃Something　like　that；　yeah。〃
　　〃Maybe　I'm　not　in　this　for　my　health。〃
　　〃In　what？〃
　　〃Life。〃
　　〃Then　what　are　you　in　it　for？〃
　　〃Um　。　。　。〃　He　felt　Zach　shiver。　〃To　keep　myself　amused；　I　guess。　No；　not　amused。　Interested。　I　want　to　do　everything。〃
　　〃You　do？　Really？〃
　　〃Sure。　Don't　you？〃
　　Trevor　thought　about　it。　〃I　think　I　just　want　to　see　everything；〃　he　said　at　last。　〃And　sometimes　I'm　not　even　sure　I　want　to。　I　just　feel　like　I　have　to。〃
　　〃That's　because　you're　an　artist。　Artists　remind　me　of　stills。〃
　　〃Of　what？〃
　　〃Of　stills。　What　they　use　to　make　moonshine。　You　take　in　information　and　distill　it　into　art。〃　Zach　was　silent　for　a　moment。　〃I　guess　that's　not　such　a　good　analogy　from　your　point　of　view。〃
　　〃It's　okay。　A　still　doesn't　have　much　choice　about　making　moonshine。　The　choice　is　up　to　the　person　who　drinks　it。〃
　　〃Then　I'll　drink　your　moonshine　anytime　you　want　to　give　me　some；〃　said　Zach。　〃I　admire　you。　That's　why　I　didn't　leave　this　afternoon。　You　may　be　crazy；　but　I　think　you're　also　very　brave。〃
　　Suddenly　Trevor　felt　like　crying　again。　Here　was　this　young　kid　on　the　run　from　some　sinister　unknown；　this　curious；　generous；　resilient　soul　who　could　stand　up　to　a　stranger　with　a　hammer　and　make　friends　afterward；　and　he　thought　Trevor　was　brave。　It　didn't　make　sense；　but　it　sure　made　him　feel　better。　He　couldn't　remember　the　last　time　anyone　had　told　him　he　was　doing　something　right。
　　〃Thanks；〃　he　said　when　he　could　trust　his　voice。　〃I　don't　feel　very　brave；　though。　I　feel　scared　all　the　time。〃
　　〃Yeah。　Me　too。〃
　　Something　brushed　the　side　of　Trevor's　hand；　then　crept　warmly　into　the　palm。　Zach's　ringer；　still　trembling　a　little。　Trevor　nearly　jerked　his　hand　away；　actually　felt　his　muscles　tensing　and　pulling。　But　at　the　last　second；　his　own　fingers　curled　around　Zach's　and　trapped　it。
　　If　he　went；　he　wouldn't　take　anyone　with　him。　That　was　the　one　thing　Trevor　had　promised　himself。
　　But　if　he　had　someone　to　hang　on　to；　maybe　he　wouldn't　have　to　go。　At　least；　not　all　the　way　down。
　　Zach's　touch　sent　little　currents　through　his　hand；　into　his　bloodstream。　The　old　scars　on　his　arm　throbbed　in　time　with　his　heartbeat。　In　the　darkness　he　could　just　make　out　Zach's　shining　eyes。　〃What　do　you　want？〃　he　whispered。
　　〃Could　you　。　。　。〃　Zach　squeezed　his　hand；　then　let　go。　〃Could　you　just　hold　me？　This　damn　Excedrin　。　。　。〃
　　〃Yes；〃　said　Trevor。　〃I　think　I　can。　I'll　try。〃
　　Gingerly　he　reached　out　and　found　Zach's　bare　shoulder；　slid　his　arm　around　Zach's　chest；　moved　closer　so　that　their　bodies　were　nestled　like　two　spoons　in　a　drawer。　Zach's　heart　was　hammering　madly；　his　muscles　so　taut　it　was　like　hugging　an　electrical　coil　about　to　blow。　His　body　felt　smaller　and　frailer　than　Trevor　would　have　expected。　It　reminded　him　of　sleeping　with　Didi；　they　had　often　nestled　together　in　just　the　same　way。
　　〃The　damndest　thing；〃　Zach　said　into　the　pillow；　〃is　my　head　still　hurts。〃
　　Trevor　laughed。　He　could　hardly　believe　any　of　this　was　happening。　He　would　wake　up　and　find　that　he'd　slept　another　night　at　the　drawing　table；　had　invented　this　boy；　this　impossible　situation。　He　wasn't　supposed　to　be　feeling　like　this。　He　had　never　felt　like　this。　He　was　supposed　to　be　finding　out　why　he　was　alive。
　　But　he　was　very　aware　of　Zach's　skin　against　his　own；　as　smooth　as　he　had　imagined　it；　and　he　didn't　want　to　pull　away。　If　anything；　he　wanted　to　get　closer。　？　He　wondered　if　this　might　have　something　to　do　with　why　he　was　alive。
　　Trevor　pressed　his　face　into　the　soft　hair　at　the　back　of　Zach's　neck。　〃Are　you　supposed　to　be　here？〃　he　asked　very　softly；　half　hoping　Zach　would　not　hear　him。　〃Is　this　part　of　what's　supposed　to　happen？〃
　　〃Fuck　supp