pzb.drawingblood-第59部分

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　　Well；　fuck　it。　Caffeine　had　started　him　on　this　journey；　maybe　it　would　preserve　him。　Zach　took　another　hit　off　the　stick　of　tea　and　found　himself　getting　a　delicious　dizzy　high；　as　good　as　that　from　the　sticky　green　bud　Dougal　used　to　sell　in　the　French　Market。　He　felt　a　sudden　wave　of　homesickness；　wondered　if　he　would　ever　see　New　Orleans　again。
　　But　if　he　didn't　get　his　ass　moving　and　find　Trevor；　he　might　never　even　see　Missing　Mile　again。　Zach　took　a　couple　more　tokes；　bent　over　to　snuff　the　joint　on　the　sidewalk。　And　then　all　at　once　a　premonition　hit　him；　stronger　than　any　he'd　ever　had　before：　Get　the　fuck　out　of　here。　Now。
　　Zach　began　to　straighten　up；　heard　a　door　slam　and　heavy　footsteps　pounding　down　the　stairs　behind　him。　He　dropped　the　joint；　but　before　he　could　turn；　a　hard　shove　sent　him　sprawling　across　the　sidewalk。　He　managed　to　get　his　hands　under　him　and　his　chin　up　fast　enough　not　to　break　any　teeth；　but　he　felt　the　healing　cut　on　his　lip　burst　open；　saw　fresh　blood　spatter　the　cement。　His　palms　screamed　agony。　He　felt　sidewalk　grit　working　its　way　into　raw　subcutaneous　layers　of　flesh。
　　〃You　stupid　fuckin'　kid！　Leave　you　alone　for　five　minutes　and　I　find　you　smokin'　dope　on　the　street　corner！〃　A　boot　ground　into　the　small　of　his　back。　The　voice　was　familiar；　deep　and　faintly　gravelly。　Shit；　no；　please；　no；　thought　Zach。　Make　me　fuck　a　zombie。　Let　me　watch　my　own　face　rotting　in　the　mirror。　Please；　anything　but　my　dad。
　　Zach　twisted　away　from　the　boot。　A　large　hand　wrapped　around　his　wrist　and　hauled　him　up。　He　found　himself　staring　up　into　the　pale　exasperated　face　of　Joe　Bosch；　and　remembered　one　of　the　scariest　things　about　his　father：　even　when　he　was　beating　the　crap　out　of　someone；　usually　his　wife　or　son；　his　face　never　lost　that　wideeyed；　slightly　harassed　expression。　It　was　as　if　he　sincerely　believed　he　was　inflicting　this　damage　for　the　good　of　all　concerned；　and　was　only　pissed　that　they　couldn't　see　it　that　way。
　　When　Zach　left　home；　his　father　had　been　a　foot　taller　than　he；　skinny　but　muscular。　Since　then　Zach　had　grown　six　inches　and　gained　thirty　pounds。　Joe　must　have　kept　growing　too；　for　he　still　seemed　just　as　big。　Zach　had　always　looked　very　much　like　his　mother。　He　had　her　pallid　coloring；　her　slender　bones；　her　narrow　nose　and　sulky　underlip　and　thick　blue…black　hair。　The　almond　shape　of　his　eyes　was　hers　too。　Joe　didn't　look　so　different；　he　was　fair…skinned　and　dark…haired　with　sharp　intense　features；　and　could　have　been　Evangeline's　brother。　But　Evangeline's　eyes　were　Cajun　black。　Joe's　were　the　color　of　jade。
　　His　father's　relentless　stare　bored　into　him；　dissected　him；　mirrored　him。　Zach　could　not　even　try　to　pull　away。　He　remembered　the　consequences　of　evasive　action　all　too　well。　The　trick　of　being　beaten　up　was　to　take　what　you　couldn't　avoid　and　show　just　enough　pain　to　appease　their　anger；　but　not　enough　to　make　them　want　more。　If　you　awakened　their　lust　for　pain；　they　would　make　you　bleed；　break；　burn。
　　But　there　was　one　thing　Zach　had　never　been　able　to　control；　one　thing　that　had　gotten　him　hurt　more　times　than　he　could　remember；　and　that　was　his　smart　mouth。
　　He　looked　straight　into　Joe's　eyes；　wondering　if　there　was　anything　of　his　real　father　in　there　or　if　this　was　a　phantom　like　Calvin　in　the　movie　theater；　a　distillation　of　Birdland　and　mushrooms　and　his　own　fear。
　　〃I　know　you　can　kick　my　ass；〃　he　said；　〃but　can　you　talk　to　me？〃
　　〃Talk？〃　Joe　sneered。　Zach　saw　a　gold　tooth；　remembered　a　night　when　he　was　four　or　five；　his　father　staggering　in　with　blood　pouring　from　his　mouth。　It　looked　as　if　he　had　been　vomiting　the　stuff。　He'd　been　in　a　bar　fight　over　some　woman；　and　Evangeline　had　screamed　at　him　all　night。
　　〃Sure；　Zach…a…reee。〃　His　mother　had　named　him　after　her　own　grandfather。　Joe　hated　the　name；　always　spoke　it　that　way；　with　a　taunting　twist　to　his　lips。　〃We　can　talk。　What　do　you　wanna　talk　about？〃
　　〃I've　got　all　kinds　of　shit　I　want　to　talk　about。〃　Zach　had　never　dared　say　these　things　to　his　father。　If　he　didn't　say　them　now；　he　never　would。　〃Tell　me　why　you　hate　me　so　much。　Tell　me　why　I　have　belt　scars　on　my　back　that　haven't　faded　in　five　years。　Tell　me　how　e　I　could　leave　home　and　support　myself　at　fourteen　but　you　couldn't　even　deal　with　your　fucking　life　at　thirty…three！〃
　　He　tensed；　expecting　to　get　slapped。　But　Joe　only　smiled。　It　turned　his　eyes　brilliant　and　dangerous。　〃You　wanna　know　all　that？　Then　take　a　look　at　this。〃
　　Joe　stuck　his　free　hand　into　his　shirt　pocket　and　pulled　out　a　used　condom。　Holding　it　by　the　rim　with　thumb　and　forefinger　as　if　his　own　seed　were　distasteful　to　him；　he　thrust　it　in　Zach's　face。　The　reservoir　tip　was　split　open；　and　a　long　thin　string　of　e　dangled　from　it；　glistening　in　the　purple　light。　The　Bosch　family　heirloom。
　　〃This　is　why　I　hate　you；〃　said　Joe。　〃I　didn't　want　a　kid　any　more　than　you　want　one　right　now。　I　could've　done　anything　with　my　life。　Your　momma　didn't　want　you　because　she　was　scared　of　being　pregnant　and　too　lazy　to　take　care　of　you　once　you　got　there。　But　I　had　a　future；　and　you　killed　it。〃
　　〃BULLSHIT！〃　Zach　felt　his　face　flushing；　his　eyes　burning　with　anger。　〃That's　the　stupidest　thing　I've　ever　heard！　I'm　just　your　excuse　for　being　a　failure。　Nobody　made　you…〃
　　Joe　jammed　the　rubber　between　Zach's　lips　and　deep　into　his　mouth。　The　thing　slithered　over　his　tongue；　squeaked　nastily　against　his　teeth。　Zach　was　so　startled　that　he　almost　sucked　it　right　down　his　throat。　For　a　moment　his　father's　fingers　scrabbled　over　his　tongue；　hard　and　dirty；　then　they　withdrew；　and　there　was　only　the　slimy　feel　of　the　rubber；　its　latex…and…dead…fish　flavor。
　　Zach　felt　bile　rising　in　his　throat。　He　twisted　his　face　away　from　Joe's　hand　and　spat　the　thing　out　on　the　sidewalk　where　it　lay　like　a　severed　skin　in　a　pool　of　spit。　The　taste　of　Joe's　e　still　filled　his　mouth；　like　sulfur　and　salt　and　murdered　dreams。
　　〃Swallow　it；〃　Joe　told　him。　〃It　could　have　been　you。〃
　　Zach　felt　his　mind　beginning　to　drift　away　on　a　thin　tether。　〃This　isn't　happening；〃　he　said。　〃You　aren't　real。〃
　　〃Oh　yeah？〃　said　Joe。　〃Then　I　guess　this　won't　hurt。〃　He　cocked　his　right　arm。　Zach　saw　the　flash　of　a　big　gold　ring　an　instant　before　the　fist　smashed　into　his　face。
　　The　pain　was　like　a　sunburst　exploding　through　his　head。　Zach　inhaled　a　freshet　of　blood。　Behind　his　eyelids　he　saw　a　sudden　flare　of　electric　blue。　He'd　read　that　when　you　saw　that　color；　it　meant　your　brain　had　just　banged　against　the　inside　of　your　skull。
　　Joe　hit　him　again　and　his　lips　smeared　wetly　across　his　teeth；　soft　skin　splitting　and　shredding。　This　made　the　time　Trevor　had　punched　him　look　like　a　love　tap。　Joe　let　go　of　his　arm　and　Zach　crumpled　to　the　sidewalk。　He　couldn't　open　his　eyes；　though　hot　tears　were　searing　them。　He　curled　into　a　fetal　position　and　wrapped　his　arms　around　his　head。　His　father　was　screaming　at　him；　half　sobbing。
　　〃You　goddamn　smartass　BRAT。　Always　thought　you　were　smarter　than　me。　You　and　that　CUNT；　with　your　pretty　faces。　How　pretty　are　you　gonna　be　NOW？　How　smart　are　you　gonna　be　with　your　fuckin'　BRAINS　STOMPED　INTO　THE　SIDEWALK？〃
　　Joe's　boot　connected　with　the　base　of　Zach's　spine；　sent　a　hot　wave　of　pain　up　his　body。　He's　going　to　kill　me；　Zach　thought。　He's　going　to　kick　me　to　death　right　here　in　the　street。　Will　my　body　back　at　the　house　die　too？　Will　Trevor　wake　up　next　to　me　with　my　head　bashed　in　and　think　he　did　it？
　　The　idea　was　unbearable。　Zach　rolled　over；　saw　the　boot　drawing　back　to　kick　him　again；　grabbed　his　father's　ankle　and　yanked　hard。　If　Joe　went　down；　Zach　knew　in　that　instant；　he　wasn't　getting　up　again。　Zach　would　kill　him　if　possible…with　a　bottle　or　a　chunk　of　brick　if　he　could　grab　one；　with　his　bare　hands　if　he　couldn't。　Fuck　not　fighting　back；　all　bets　were　off。
　　But　Joe　didn't　go　down。　Zach　managed　to　throw　him　off　balance　and　he　stumbled；　then　recovered　with　a　great　roar　of　rage　and　drove　the　toe　of　his　boot　into　Zach's　shoulder。　The　muscles　instantly　contracted　into　a　shrieking　knot　of　agony。　Well；　that's　it；　Zach　thought　through　the　pain。　That　was　my　chance　and　I　blew　it　and　now　he's　just　gonna　kill　me　worse。　He　could　already　taste　the　dirty　boot　heel　plowing　into　his　mouth；　his　teeth　splintering；　blood　spraying　over　his　tongue。
　　But　instead　of　stomping　his　face；　Joe　reached　down；　grabbed　Zach's　arm；　and　pulled　him　back　up。　It　was　obvious　that　Joe　would　be　perfectly　willing　to　yank　his　shoulder　out　of　its　socket　if　Zach　resisted。　〃You're　smart　enough　to　get　into　places　but　not　smart　enough　to　know　when　you're　not　wanted；〃　he　hissed　into　Zach's　face。　His　breath　was　scented　with　peppermint　and　rotgut　gin。　〃You're　meddlin'　here　and　I'm　gonna　stop　you。　Don't　fight　me　or　I'll　put　out　one　of　your　eyes。　I　swear　it。〃
　　Zach　believed　him。　He　remembered　a　time　just　before　he　had　left　home　for　good　that　Joe　had　thrown　him　against　the　wall　and　held　a　lighted　cigarette　less　than　an　inch　from　his　right　eye；　threatening　to　burn　it　if　he　blinked。　Evangeline　had　snatched　the　cigarette；　taken　a　slap　across　the　face　that　knocked　her　down；　then　cussed　Zach　to　ribbons　for　having　provoked　his　father　with　some　smartass　remark。　Later　he　had　noticed　that　his　eyelashes　were　singed。
　　Joe　pulled　out　the　poor　man's　weapon　he　had　always　carried　on　the　streets　of　New　Orleans；　a　knotted　sock　half　full　of　pennies。　The　black　wool　was　stiff　with　dried　blood。　He　slapped　it　against　his　palm　thoughtfully；　then　grinned　and　swung　it　around　his　head；　winding　up　for　the　blow。
　　Trevor；　Zach　promised　silently；　if　I　see　you　again…no；　WHEN　I　see　you；　I'm　taking　you　away　to　the　cleanest；　whitest；　bluest；　warmest　beach　you　ever　saw；　and　I'll　buy　you　all　the　paper　and　ink　you　want；　and　we'll　keep　each　other　as　sane　as　we　want　to　be　and　love　each　other　as　long　as　we're　alive。　We'll　let　go　of　our　pasts　and　start　making　our　future。
　　Then　his　father's　slap　plowed　into　his　skull。　Joe　hit　him　so　hard　that　the　sock　split　right　open。　In　the　instant　before　his　mind　went　out；　Zach　saw　its　contents　raining　down　around　his　head；　shimmering；　sparkling。
　　Not　pennies。　Tiny　diamonds。
　　
　　Trevor　kept　following　the　street　he　had　chosen。　It　le