Chapter 13 Chapter 7 The Picnic 2

4 "Are they all safe?" she asked Bill when they got back to the water.She put her hands on his shoulders for balance and took off her sneakers as she spoke. "You mean the little ones will not be hunted?" Rossi nodded. "They'll be all right if they stay in the clearing and in their den. Their parents are smart enough to keep them away from the farm; that's normal. The vixen is at least four years old, and the The dog may be seven years old. Hope you get to meet him." They walked along the edge of the lake toward the picnic area, their feet in the water.She had seen his leather boots on the rocks, the beautiful white sports socks lying across the wide toes.

"What do you mean by normal?" "Rabies," he said, "is often the cause of rabies, which drives them here from where they live and dies. Vixen are more susceptible to this disease than dogs, and it teaches young foxes how to avoid danger." The behavior of the dog. The dog will die soon, but the vixen can carry the virus for a long time, so the situation will only get worse." "Really? This is horrible." He stopped, looked at her pale, thoughtful face, and stretched out his arms to hug her gently. "Things like this don't necessarily happen, and so far they've been fine."

"But it can happen. It's possible." He thought for a while, finally nodded and said, "Yes, that's right, anything can happen. Let's go, we should go to dinner, what do you think?" "That's a good idea." She wasn't actually hungry, and worry about the vixen had scared her good appetite away.When he brought out the food, she immediately felt very hungry.Breakfast was just some orange juice and a big slice of toast.Facing the bread and meat, she immediately put her worry about the vixen behind her. He was constantly taking food out of the freezer—beef sandwiches, tuna sandwiches.Chicken salad, potato salad, two cans of Coca-Cola, a thermos of iced tea, two pies and finally a huge slice of cake.It reminded her of a circus show, where many clowns fell out of a small car, and she laughed.Although it seemed impolite, she was sure that she didn't have to be polite to Bill all the time, and she couldn't be.

He holds salt in his left hand and pepper in his right and looks up.She laughed even harder when she saw the bottle cap carefully taped to prevent spills.She sat down on a bench to the side of the picnic table and put her face in her hands to stifle her laughter.But she glimpsed through her fingers an astonishing pile of sandwiches—seven or eight pieces, already cut diagonally and neatly wrapped in plastic wrap—and couldn't help laughing again. "What's the matter?" he asked with a smile. "What happened?" "You don't expect the whole army to come to the party?" she asked, laughing. "Youth Salvation Army, or Boy Scouts?"

There was a smile on his face, and a serious expression was still in his eyes.This complex expression showed that he fully understood why the matter was funny.From this demeanor, she found that his age was actually very close to hers, or the difference was very small. "I just want to make sure there's something you like to eat." Her laughter stopped, but the smile was still on her face.What moved her most was not his gentleness, which made him look too young; but his frankness, which made him look mature. "I can eat everything, Bill," she said. "I believe," he said, sitting next to her, "that's not the problem. I don't care if you can manage to eat something; I just care about what you like to eat. I'm crazy about you .”

She looked at him seriously, and the smile disappeared.He took her hand and she put the other on top of it.She wanted to understand what he meant by these words, but found it difficult.It was like trying to transport a bulky piece of furniture through a narrow door, tossing and turning to find the right angle. "Why?" she asked, "Why me?" He shook his head. "I don't know. In fact, I know very little about women. I had a girlfriend when I was just in high school, and there was a good chance we'd end up sleeping together, but she left before that. My freshman year in college There was a girlfriend, and I actually slept with her. Then five years ago, I went out with this wonderful girl I met at the city zoo, Brangwen O'Hara."

"A lovely name." "A sweet girl too. She died of a brain aneurysm." "Oh, Bill, I'm so sorry." "After that, I dated a lot of girls. I literally dated a lot of girls. My parents fought over me. My father said I always quit halfway; my mother said, 'Don't bother Don't blame him, don't blame him.'" Rosie laughed. "Then you went into the store and saw the painting. Did you know you had to buy it from the first?" "yes." "I feel that way, and I just want you to know that none of what's going on here is out of my kindness, kindness, or sense of duty; nor is it because I find out little Rosie has a hard life." He hesitated. For a moment, then say, "It's all because I love you."

"You don't know, you can't figure this out." "I know what I know." He said, soft and tenacious, which made her a little scared. "Okay, the series can come to an end, let's eat." They had a big meal.Rosie's belly was stretched like a drum, and her belt was taut.They repacked the fridge and Bill strapped it back to Harry's back shelf.No one was there, and the shore of the lake still belonged to the two of them.They went to the water's edge again and sat on the big rock.Rosie thought, if all goes well, I should visit the stone once or twice a year to say thank you... if it goes well, at least so far she thinks so.In fact, there has never been a better day than today.

Bill wrapped his arms around her, ran his fingers over her cheek, turned her around, and began to kiss her.A few minutes passed, and she was so excited that she almost fainted, and in the dreamlike feeling, she burst out with unimaginable excitement. Her cheeks were hot and he was stroking her breasts lightly through her shirt, making her extremely sensitive.She wished she wasn't wearing any corsets underneath, and the thought made her cheeks turn redder than ever.Her heart was beating fast, but she was feeling fine, everything was going well, and their relationship was going through the roof.She reached down and put her hand under him.It felt extremely hard there, as firm as a stone, but the stone didn't throb in her palm like the pulse of her heart.

He took her hand away, gently held it up and kissed her palm. "Not now," he said. "Why not?" she asked directly, without hesitation.Norman was the only man she'd had sex with in her entire life, and he wasn't the kind of guy who could get an erection if he rubbed it through his pants.Sometimes, especially in recent years, he just can't get excited at all. "Because unless there's an emergency, I can't stop." She frowned at him in bewilderment, and he laughed. "It's nothing, Rosie. I just wanted to make our first time better—no bug bites and oak fumes and kids popping out of nowhere. Besides, I promise you'll be back at four o'clock." , to participate in the t-shirt sale, I don't want to rush you."

She looked down at her watch and was surprised to find that it was ten past two.how can that be possible?They seemed to sit on the rock for only a few minutes.She admitted reluctantly that they had been here at least half an hour, more precisely forty-five minutes. "Come on." He said and jumped off the rock, splashing cold water on his toes, and made a face.Rosie glanced at him as he turned.She was surprised to find out.The thought of him having a strong physical response to her filled her with ecstasy, even a little ecstasy. She jumped off the rock with him, unaware that she was already gripping his hands tightly. "Okay, what now?" "How about a little walk before we go? Relax." "Okay, but let's stay away from the foxes. I don't want to disturb them." Actually I mean the vixen, she thought, and I don't want to bother her anymore. "No problem, let's go south." He was about to turn around when she took his hand and pulled him back.She slipped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.His erection wasn't quite gone yet, and she was pleased.She never knew that a woman would like a man's firmness so much. She thought it was a fabrication of magazines and businessmen selling clothing, cosmetics, and hair products.She pressed herself against him, looking into his eyes. "Do you mind if I tell you something my mother taught me when I went to my first birthday party? I was about four or five years old." "Go ahead, I don't mind," he said with a smile. "I thank you for a great time, Bill. I thank you for the best time of my life growing up, and thank you for having me." Bill kissed her. "Rosie, it's a wonderful day for me, too. I haven't been happier in years. Come on, let's go for a walk." This time they walked south along the lake hand in hand.He took her up another path and came to a long, deserted meadow.The afternoon sun shines on the ground through the gray dust. Butterflies are flying aimlessly on the grass, bees are buzzing, and a woodpecker is patiently carving on the bark.He showed her all kinds of wildflowers, most of which he could name.She thought he got some of them wrong, but didn't say so.Rosie showed him a clump of mushrooms under an oak tree and told him it was a poisonous fungus, but not very dangerous because they were bitter.Those mushrooms that don't taste bitter are the ones that can really wreak havoc and even kill you. By the time they got back to the picnic spot, a caravan and a four-wheel drive loaded with the college students Bill had mentioned had arrived.Lovely as they are, they're annoyingly loud and annoying as they haul beer-filled fridges into the shade and install volleyball nets.A boy of nineteen or so was slung over his shoulders a girlfriend in chinos and a bikini.He broke into a run, and she squealed with delight, patting his sculpted head repeatedly with her palms.Rosie wondered if the girl's screams would reach the vixen's territory.She seemed to see the vixen lying on the edge of the den, combing the hair of a few little ones who slept after eating, but at this moment, she pricked up her pointed ears, listening to the screams of humans coming from the beach below.Its eyes are bright and cunning, but it has no resistance to rabies. Dogs die quickly after getting sick, but vixens can carry the virus and live for a long time, Rosie thought.She remembered the toadstools on the edge of the lawn, which thrived more in dark, damp places.Grandma pointed it out to her one summer and called it a spider fungus, a name not in the book.She would never forget their disgusting appearance, the pale, waxy tissue packed together in heaps, sort of like spiders... Vixen can carry rabies for a long time, she thought again, but dogs would die very quickly.but…… "Rosie, are you cold?" She stared at him without any response for a long time. "You're shaking." "Oh, I'm not cold." She looked at the children, who paid no attention to her and Bill, who were over twenty-five.She turned to him and said, "Maybe we should go back." He nodded: "You're right." 5 When we went back, the road started to get congested, and after leaving the expressway, there were still a lot of vehicles.Although it did not come to a complete stop, the speed must be reduced.Bill drove the "Harry" through the gaps in traffic, but never a blind adventure.Rosie felt as if they were flying on dragonfly wings, and she had no doubts about his piloting skills.They overtook cars and had to wait in line at tollbooths.Rosie was overjoyed that they were back and she was in time for the t-shirt giveaway after driving past the signs that read ', 'Lakeside and Aquarium. Erdinger Pier and Public Playground' Yes, that's just too good to be true.More importantly, she would introduce Bill to her friends, and they would all like him.They passed a bright pink banner that read: "Summer with the Sisters' Home!" Rosie was ecstatic.Later in the long day she recalled the good times with horror. The roller coaster can now be seen, its curved and complex track drawing a graceful outline in the air.The screams slowly floated in all directions like water vapor.She hugged Bill a little tighter, smiling happily.everything will get better.For a moment she thought of the vixen's concerned eyes, but she quickly dispelled the memory.Like one chasing away thoughts of death at a wedding. 6 As Bill Steiner steered his motorcycle cautiously toward the lakefront, Norman Daniels was driving his stolen car into a giant parking lot on News Avenue, five blocks from Erdinger Pier. .The parking lot serves several entertainment and leisure facilities in the lakeside area - a public playground, an aquarium, a gondola, shops and restaurants.There are parking lots closer than this, but Norman doesn't want to get too close, and he doesn't want to be stuck in traffic when he needs to leave as quickly as possible. At nine forty-five on a Sunday morning, the front half of the News Street car park was nearly empty, a situation not conducive to a man who didn't want to leave a mark.However, there were not many vehicles in the parking department on that day and this week, and most of the vehicles went north from other places for short trips or long distances to go fishing.Norman slowly drove the Ford Accelerator between two limousines with Utah and Massachusetts license plates.Sandwiched between these two big guys, the "acceleration" was almost invisible, which was just what he wanted. He stepped out of the car, picked up the newly bought leather jacket from the seat and put it on, took out the sunglasses from his shirt pocket and put it on his face.This was not the pair he had worn last time.He walked to the rear of the car and looked around to make sure there was no one around, then he opened the trunk, took out the folding wheelchair from inside and opened it. He already covered his wheelchair with stickers from the Women's Cultural Center's gift shop.There may be quite a few pretty smart people giving presentations and attending seminars in the upstairs conference room of the Women's Center, but the stuff sold in the gift shop downstairs is just plain boring junk, which is exactly what Norman wanted .Key chains with women's slogans and women's crucifixion posters (imitating the crucifixion of Jesus) didn't help him, but bumper stickers did.One reads: "A woman needs a man as much as a fish needs a bicycle." The other reads: "Women are not funny!" Whoever wrote this must have never seen a whore Eyebrows and hair scorched by a malfunctioning car exhaust.And "Sex is Politics," "What Respect Means to Me," etc., and Norman bought them all.One of his favorites, "I am a man who respects women," has been taped to the very middle of the faux-leather back of the wheelchair. It's a truth, he thought.He looked around quickly again to make sure no one was watching him, and the crippled man nimbly slipped into the wheelchair. There is not even a single person here, let alone anyone paying attention to him.He turned the wheelchair and looked at his own shadow on the body of the "acceleration" that had just been washed. "Well, is this a good idea?" he asked himself. He thinks it's fine.Since concealment was out of the question, he decided to use something even more sublime than concealment—to make a real human being, as a good actor does on the stage.He even had a name for the newcomer: Harp Peterson. Harp was an army veterinarian, and when he came home from the military, he spent a decade or so riding with some illegal motorcyclists, when women were of little use to him.Until one day, disaster happened.Too much beer, the road was slippery, and just as he was crossing the bridge... he was paralyzed from the waist down, and was nursed back to health by a holy maiden.This girl's name is... "Marilyn," Norman thought of his favorite sexy star of all time—Marilyn Chambers.His second favorite was Amber Lim, but Marilyn Lim sounded like a ghost.The next name that comes to mind is McCall, Marilyn McCall is not good either, seems like a bitch who sang in "Five Dimensions" in the 70's. There was a banner in the street: 'Next year there will be another high-quality Delaney project here!'" Marilyn Delaney—not a bad name. The women of "Sisters' House" might not ask about his life story, but as the clerk's shirt at base camp read: It's a hundred times better to have a story and not have one than to not have one when one is needed. They might trust Harp Peterson.They've seen a lot of guys like him, they've had life-changing experiences, and they want to atone for their past actions.Harp Peterson is trying to make herself into a respectable woman.Norman has seen similar drug-addicted prostitutes turned ardent anti-drug advocates.But that didn't matter, the important thing was; they were always wandering around, like tumbleweeds in the desert or icicles in Alaska, wherever they wanted to go.So even if Harp had the looks of Detective Daniels, he would be accepted as Harp.Even the most sarcastic guy will just think he's a lecherous lame who spends his weekend nights with the routine of a "sensitive, preoccupied man." Like the guy on stilts who plays Uncle Sam in the Fourth of July parade, Harp Peterson can draw attention to himself and disappear from public view with as much ease. Other than that, his plan itself is simple.He would find the concentration of women's institutions, watch their games, talks, and picnics from the sidelines as Harp.If someone offered him a hamburger, a tortilla, or a cake (no doubt they would, they had an instinctive need to give a man something to eat), he'd thank him, accept it, and eat it all.Talk to him when someone strikes up a conversation, give a stuffed animal to some kid for a chance to win... But most of the time he needs to watch, looking for his wandering Rose.He's an old hand at stalking, and once he's accepted as a full member of the place, there's no problem doing it.Once he's spotted her, it's a job he can do entirely at the dock if he wants to: follow her while she's going to the bathroom, and wring her neck like a chicken.It may only take a few seconds, and that's the problem.He didn't want to be done in a few seconds, he wanted to take it easy and have a light, pleasant chat with her.Get a clear picture of all her activities since she left home with his credit card.A complete report, from start to finish, flawless.Like he'd ask her how it felt when she bent down to grab fistfuls of cash from an ATM with his credit card, his money, earned by working so hard, day and night, and overtime money.If he hadn't arrested those dregs of society, they would be lawless and commit crimes in society.He wants to ask her how she thinks she can escape easily, how she thinks she can choose his palm. He would talk to her when she had told him all he wanted to know. He doesn't think talk is the right word. The first step is to find her.The second step is to monitor her discreetly from a reasonable distance.The third step is after she finishes her meal.Or catch up with her when she's about to leave after a concert, or earlier if you're lucky.Once slipped from the playground, the wheelchair can be thrown away.There might be fingerprints on the wheelchair (a pair of long gloves would fix that, and reinforce the image of Hap Peterson, who doesn't have the time, not even a headache), but that's okay.He felt that from now on fingerprints were the least of his problems. He wanted to catch her at her place, and Norman thought he could do it.When she took the bus (she didn't have a car of her own and couldn't bear to pay for a taxi), he could follow her.In case she found out on the road, he had no choice but to kill her on the spot regardless of the consequences.If all goes well, he can follow her door all the way.Behind this door, she will receive the harshest punishment that any woman in the world has ever suffered. Norman rocked his wheelchair and entered the "All-Day Admission" channel.The entrance fee for an adult male is 12 yuan. After paying the fee at the toll office, he entered the gate.There are few people, and the Erdinger Pier has not yet started to make noise.He had to be extra careful not to draw attention.he can do it, he "Bro! Hey, bro! Come back!" Norman stopped immediately, his hands on the wheelchair froze, and his eyes stared blankly at the ghost ship in front of him and the robot wearing old-fashioned captain's eyes standing on the ship.A sailor mech shouted monotonously: "Come and see! It's horrible! Come and see!" No, he didn't want to attract anyone's attention...but at this moment, he was attracting others' attention. "Hey bro! Wheel chair bro, come back here!" People turned to look at him.One of them, a fat woman in a red top, looks as exuberant as a cleft-lip clerk at Base Camp.She looked familiar, but Norman dismissed the absurdity immediately—he didn't know anyone in the city.With a purse not much smaller than a suitcase in her hand, she turned and continued walking away.But others were still standing and watching.Norman suddenly felt his thighs sweating. "Hey you bastard. Come back! You paid too much!" He couldn't react for a moment—as if speaking in a foreign language—and then it suddenly dawned on him, overwhelmed by a great sense of relief and disgust at his own stupidity.Of course, he paid way too much at the cash register.He forgot that he was not a "grown male" but a "handicapped person". He turned the wheelchair back to the ticket office.A disgustingly fat guy was leaning against the door with a $5 bill in his hand. "7 yuan for the handicapped, didn't you see it?" He pointed to the instructions posted on the ticket booth with the banknote, and then pushed it in front of Norman's face. Norman wished he could poke the five dollars into the fat pig's eyes, then take them out and put them back in his pocket.He humbly said "I'm sorry". "Mmm, yes." The man snorted twice, turned and left. Norman rolled the wheelchair into the playground again, his heart pounding.In order to achieve the stated goal, he carefully designed his characters and made up a simple but convincing story... In short, he was well prepared.Who would have thought that he would make such a foolish leak from the very beginning.What happened to him? He himself does not know.But from now on, he must be extremely serious and never make mistakes. "I can do it," he said to himself, "God damn it, I can do it!" "Aha! Come and see! It's terrifying!" the sailor shouted monotonously as Norman walked past the ghost ship, waving a corn pip with one hand. Already!" Norman shook the car and whispered: "It's useless to say anything, Captain." He continued to move forward and came to a three-way intersection with arrows pointing to the pier, playground and picnic area respectively.Next to the arrow in the picnic area is a sign that reads: "Guests and friends of the Sisters' House please dine at 12 noon, 6 pm, and enjoy the concert at 8 pm." That's right this time, Norman thought, rolling the wheelchair up the road to the picnic area.Both sides of the path are full of flowers, as beautiful as a park.It's actually a really nice park.Children are having fun in the children's playground.There are Disneyland-style bush animals dotted here and there, as well as U-shaped orchestra pits, softball fields, and plenty of picnic tables.Under a raised canvas canopy, chefs in white coats prepare roasts.On the other side of the tent was a row of stalls apparently set up just for the day, where raffle tickets could be bought.Prizes include hand-knitting, bedding, t-shirts (with the same slogan on the "Happ" wheelchair), every kind of booklet you want, such as telling you how to leave your husband, how to have fun with lesbians, etc. Wait. He thought, if I had a gun in my hand, a gun like the Mack-10 that was heavy and fast-firing, in twenty seconds I could make the world a much better place than it is now. Most of the guests were women, but there were also enough men to make Norman seem less obvious.He happily rolled his wheelchair past the stalls, nodding when others nodded to him, and smiling when others smiled at him.He had bought a lucky ticket in Richard Peterson's name at the stand that sold snowflake sheets: it might not be good to still be named Hap here.He picked out a booklet titled "Women Have Property Rights Too" and told the lesbians at the stall that he was going to give it to his sister Jenny.The lesbians smiled and wished him a good time.He went to look at everything, but only to find one target: Rose.He hadn't seen her yet, but that was okay, the day had only just begun.He was almost sure she would be here for lunch.As long as I can see her, everything will be fine, everything!Yes, he had a little mess at the playground entrance, but that was over, and he wouldn't mess up again, absolutely not. "Wheelchairs are awesome, my friend," said a young woman in a leopard-skin jacket cheerfully.She is holding a little boy in her hand, and the boy is holding a cherry ice cream in the other hand, trying to paint his face colorfully. "This wheelchair is really cool." She held out a hand to Norman.Norman wondered if he'd bit off two fingers from this hand instead of humbly offering his, as she'd wished, the "Look I stopped to talk to disabled people" look on her face. Will your smug smile disappear in no time?She held out her left hand, and as Norman had expected, there was no wedding ring on it, although the boy next to her with a face covered in cherry ice cream looked a lot like her. You bitch, he thought.To hell with you and the bloody bird world. He smiled, patted her outstretched hand and said, "You're the best person in the world, girl." "Do you have any friends here?" she asked. "Yes, you are." He replied immediately. She smiled and looked happy. "Thanks, but you know what I mean." "No, I'm just looking around. If it's in the way, or if it's a private party, I can leave quickly." "Ah, no! No!" As Norman expected, she was startled by the thought. "Please stay here, don't go away, just stay here and have fun. I can get you something to eat." Is it? I'd love to, marshmallows? Hot dogs?" "No thanks," Norman said. "Had an accident on the motorcycle—that's why I'm in a wheelchair." The bastard nodded sympathetically.If I wanted to, I could make her burst into tears in no time. "I haven't had a great appetite since then," he grinned, "but thank God I'm still enjoying life." She smiled: "Great! Have fun!" He nodded: "I hope you have fun too, children!" "Of course." The boy with cherry ice cream foam on his cheek stared at him with hostile eyes and replied calmly.There was a panic in Norman's heart. He felt that the kid had seen through him and saw Norman hidden behind Happ Peterson's bald head and zipped jacket.He told himself it was just a hallucination—he was an imposter in an enemy camp, after all, and hallucinations were normal under the circumstances.But no matter what, he still rocked his wheelchair and quickly set off on the road. He'd thought he'd feel better just away from the boy's hostile eyes, but it didn't.His optimistic beliefs were increasingly replaced by worries and fears.Lunchtime was approaching, and in about a quarter of an hour people would be seated, but there was still no sign of her.Some of the women were still riding boats and go-karts... It was possible Rose was among them, but he didn't think it was likely, Rose wasn't the wild kind of woman. "Yes, she never was...but maybe she has changed," whispered a voice inside him.The voice wanted to say something else, but Norman frantically stopped it.He didn't want to hear it, although he knew very well that something had changed in Rose, otherwise none of this would have happened.She still stays at home, obediently ironing his clothes every Wednesday.The thought of Rose becoming so daring enough to take his credit card and run away from home made him so angry that he couldn't bear it, and he couldn't breathe like a big stone on his chest. Keep calm, he told himself.Think of it as the kind of work you've done countless times, as if you're completing a normal surveillance mission.Forget that the person you're looking for is Rose.As long as you can think about the problem in this way, everything will go well. He tried hard to think that way, and things got better.Harp Peterson has become a seamless part of today's party.Two lesbians in T-shirts showed him their weapons, and an ugly white-haired old lady with varicose veins brought him a bottle of Lactobacillus pop because he "looked hot and uncomfortable in a wheelchair".Harp thanked her heartily and said he was indeed a little hot.You're not really hot, he thought.However, the soda was very refreshing, so he gulped it down after a few sips. No trick can stay in one place for too long.He rocked from the picnic area to the small field.Two clumsy men and two equally clumsy women were engaged in doubles, and they looked as if they were going to fight until the sun went down.He passed the cooks' tent, where the first hamburgers were off the grill and potato salad was being served in tubs.Finally, he walked towards the playground and go-kart area, lowered his head and shook his wheelchair, and glanced at the women passing by him from time to time.They were all walking toward the picnic area, some pushing prams, some with gaudy, useless prizes under their elbows.Rose was not among them. Can't seem to find her anywhere. 7 Norman was too focused on looking for Rose to notice that the black woman who had noticed him before was watching him again.This is truly an astonishingly tall woman. Gert was the only little boy on the playground on the swing.She paused and shook her head, as if trying to dismiss a thought.She kept staring at the man in the wheelchair and wearing the jacket, though now only his back was visible.A note was taped to the back of the chair: "I am a man who respects women." You're a familiar-looking guy too, Gert thought, maybe just because he looks like some movie star? "Gert, come on!" the little boy named Stan Siggins called to her. "Push, I'm going up! I'm going over!" Gert pushed him up.Although it was still far from the height that could be turned over, his giggling laughter made her laugh uncontrollably.The man in the wheelchair disappeared from her mind. "I'm turning over, Gert! Please! Please!" Well, Gert thought, maybe playing just once would be fine. "Come on, man," she said, "begin!" 8 Norman kept rocking the wheelchair around even when the last picnickers were seated.He knew he should hang out less in front of the women and friends of the Sisters House, and maybe his actions had caught someone's attention.His sense of fear was rising.Rose should be here, he should have found her by now, but no, which means she is not here.She is a mouse, a little mouse, if not here, where would she be? Passing the arched sign that said "Welcome to the Playground", he rolled his wheelchair up the wide avenue, staring absently at the scene around him.He found that the biggest benefit of being in a wheelchair was attracting attention. The playground was starting to get crowded, which he thought was nice, but that was about the only thing that was okay.His head was already throbbing, and the constant crowd of people made him feel strange, as if there was a new person in his body.Why are so many people laughing?In God's name, do they know what they're laughing at?Do they understand what is going on in this world?He saw with dismay that they all looked like teenage girls and underclassmen in love, that the world had degenerated into a cesspit of single-sex lovers, women were thieves, men were liars, and that these The glue that holds society together, and no one shows due respect. 他的头疼得更加厉害了，看东西时，物体的周围增加了一层弯曲的光环。所有的声响都变成了巨大的噪音，好像脑子里有个妖魔把音量扭到了最大分贝。过山车爬坡的声音听起来像雪崩，车从陡坡猛降时游客发出的尖叫声如同榴霰弹在耳边爆炸。货摊上录音机的声响。卡了车在赛车道上的加速……这些声音像恶魔般集中在他混乱而恐慌的脑海中。更糟糕的是其中一种声音穿过一切障碍，穿透了大脑皮层，像一个厄兆般不停地震撼着他，就是那个鬼船的水手单调乏昧的叫声：“快来看！真恐怖！”他觉得只要再听一次，他的脑袋就会像火柴棒一样被折断，否则他非得从这粘乎乎的轮椅上尖叫着逃命—— 住口，诺曼。 他正把轮椅摇到煎面图和比萨薄饼两个货摊之间的一小块空地上，听到这声音马上停下来，背朝着拥挤的人群。当这个特殊的声音出现时，他总是绝对服从。正是这声音在九年前告诉他，要想叫温迪·亚洛住口的惟一办法是把她杀掉；也正是这个声音在罗丝被打断一根肋骨时说服他送她去医院。 “诺曼，你疯了，”那个平静而清晰的声音说，“按照你作证过上千次的法庭标准来看，你现在就像薪日那天的糖果柜台一样不大正常。你知道吗？” 湖面的轻风模模糊糊地吹来那喊声：“快来看，真恐怖！” “诺曼？” “哦，”他喃喃自语着，用手指尖按摩一直隐隐作疼的太阳穴，“是的，我想我知道。” “一个人可以利用他的不利条件，如果他确切地知道这些不利条件的话。你必须找出她在哪里。这意味着冒险，但你到这儿来本身就是冒险，对吗？” “是的，”他说，“是的，我是在冒险。” “好吧，废话到此结束。仔细听着，诺曼。” 诺曼仔细听着。 9 格特把斯坦·西金斯在秋千上又多晃了一会儿，他不断地嚷嚷着“我要翻跟头”，这叫喊比刚才更烦人了。她不想再推他了，他有一次差点儿掉下来，害得格特几乎犯心脏病。 此外，她的心思又回到那个家伙身上——那个光头的家伙。 她是不是在哪儿认识他？Yes or no? 他会不会是罗西的丈夫？ 哦，真是疯了，这是幻觉。 可能是幻觉，但这个念头还在追逐着她。身材看上去很像……虽然一个坐在轮椅上的人很难辨别。像罗西丈夫这样的男人当然知道这一点。 别想了，你完全是瞎猜。 斯坦玩腻了打秋千，问格特能不能和他一起爬到坡上的健身房去。格特哈哈笑着直摇头。 “为什么不行？”他撅着嘴。 “因为你的老伙计格特打从扔掉了尿布和围嘴开始就不是个去健身房的料。”她说。她一眼瞥见兰迪·富兰克林，突然做出了一个决定。不把这件事搞清楚，她会发疯的。她问兰迪能不能顺便照看一会儿斯坦。年轻女人说行，格特立刻夸奖说她是天使。兰迪肯定不是天使……但小小的鼓励对谁都没坏处。 “格特，你要去哪里？”斯坦显然很失望。 “去办件事儿。你到那边玩滑梯去吧。” “婴儿才玩滑梯呢。”斯坦皱着眉头，还是去了。 10 格特走上从野餐区通往主干道的小路，从那里一直走到了入口处，在全日和半日入口处都排着长龙。她几乎马上就断定她想要与之谈话的人不会帮她什么忙——她看见他正在干活。 全日入场售票亭的后门开着，格特在门口站了一会儿，下定决心走过去。她从来没有成为姐妹之家中的正式成员，但是她爱安娜，感谢安娜把她从一桩悲惨的同居关系中解脱了出来。在她十六岁到十九岁之间，那个男人曾九次打得她不得不进急救室。她现在已经三十七岁了，十五年来一直是安娜非正式的助手。她用安娜当年教导她的话去开导遍体鳞伤的新成员，告诉她们不一定非要回到粗暴的丈夫、男友、继父母那里不可。这只是她的其中一项工作，此外她还教自卫防身术（不是为了拯救生命，而是为了挽回尊严）；她帮助安娜操办像今天这样的基金募捐；她帮助安娜维持捉襟见肘的财务开支并使之略有节余；如果需要做保安的工作，她也会尽最大努力。正是凭着这种资格，她才能来到这里。 “先生，对不起，”她靠在开着的后门上说，“我能跟你说两句话吗？” “顾客服务台在鬼船的左边。”他头也不回地说道，“你有什么问题请到那边去问。” “你不明白，”格特深深吸了口气，力图让声调听上去平稳一些，“这是个只有你才能帮我解决的问题。” “二十四元，”售票员对另一边窗口的一对年轻人说，“找你六元。祝你玩得开心。”他还是没有回头，“女士，你没看见吗，我很忙。如果你要投诉游戏有问题或者其他什么事，走两步到顾客服务台去——” 格特不想再听这家伙指示她走几步到什么地方去，尤其是不想听他那不堪忍受的傻瓜腔调。也许世界上本来就充满了傻瓜，但她不是，而且她知道这个自鸣得意的家伙所不知道的事情：彼得·斯洛维克被人咬了八十多口，而此刻干下这等事的混蛋很有可能就在这里，正在寻找他的妻子。她挤进售票亭，这里对她来说太小了，但总算是进来了。她抓住售票员穿蓝色西服衬衫的肩膀，把他转了过来。他胸前的铭牌上写着“克里斯”。克里斯瞪着格特满月一般的黑色大圆脸发愣，压根儿没想到一个顾客会这么干。他刚张开嘴，格特抢先说话了。 “闭上你的嘴听着。我认为你今天早晨可能给一个极其危险的家伙，一个凶手卖了一张入场券。所以别跟我胡扯你今天有多辛苦，我他妈的根本不在乎。” 克里斯惊讶地看着她，眼睛几乎要从眼眶中爆裂出来。没等他喘息，格特已经从她那只超大尺寸的提包里掏出了一张模糊不清的传真照片，伸到他的鼻子底下。照片下面写着：“侦探诺曼·丹尼尔斯，领导秘密缉毒特警队。” “你需要保安人员。”克里斯说，声调中既有受到伤害的感觉，又有一丝犹豫。在他身后，排在队伍前边的是一个头戴一顶傻乎乎的便帽、身穿印有“世界上最伟大的祖父”字样体恤衫的男人，他突然举起手中的摄像机开始拍摄起来，好像预料到即将爆发一场值得电视台播放的冲突。 如果我能知道这事有多好玩儿，我才不会犹豫呢，格特想到。 “不，我不需要保安，我只需要你的帮助。只是请你简单看上一眼，然后告诉我……” “女士，你知道吗，我这儿一天有多少人——” “想想有个坐轮椅的男人。早上人还不多的时候，一个挺壮实的家伙，还记得吧？你靠在门后冲他背后喊了几声，他就回来了。肯定是忘了拿找给他的零钱。” 克里斯眼睛亮了一下。“哦，不是，”他说，“他觉得他付的钱是对的，我知道，因为他正好给了十二元。他可能忘了残障人的票价，要不就是根本没注意到。” 这就对了，格特想，这正是一个假装残疾的正常人可能犯的错误，如果他脑子走神的话。 那个傻乎乎的家伙显然已经判断出此处不会有斗殴发生，便放下了摄像机，从对话孔中说：“请给我和我的孙子买张票。” “一边等着去。”克里斯说。格特很少遇见如此粗鲁的人，但现在不是教他怎样注意言谈举止的时候。现在正在这里举行一场外交谈判。他转过身来，一副疲倦和上当的模样，格特又举起照片，温柔而耐心地问道： “这是那个坐轮骑的男人吗？你想象一下，假如他没有头发。” “唉，女士，得了吧！他带着墨镜呢。” “试试看。这个人很危险，只要有一丝他在这里出现的可能，我就得找你们这儿的保安谈谈。” 糟了，一个错误。她几乎话一出口就明白了，但还是晚了几分钟。他的眼睛又亮了一下，尽管十分短暂，但含义很清楚。如果有什么与他无关的麻烦要找保安，那很好，没有问题。如果有什么涉及到他的事（即使实际上与他无关）要找保安，那就不太妙。他也许曾经和保安有过什么麻烦，或者因为他的火爆脾气而受过斥责。不管怎么样，他不需要让这件事把情况弄得更糟糕。 “不是这家伙。”他把照片拿近看了一眼以后断定。他想把照片递还回去，格特双手放在小山般高耸的胸脯上，拒绝收回。 “请再看一看吧。如果这个人真在这里，他就一定是在找我的一个朋友，他可不是为了带她坐轮椅玩儿。” “嗨！”有人从越排越长的队伍里喊道，“快点让我们进去，让我们进去！” 队列里传来赞成的声音。最伟大的祖父先生又举起了摄像机，这回他的兴趣似乎只在克里斯身上。格特看着克里斯的脸渐渐发红，他试图用手遮住脸，就像一个窃贼从法院的调解庭里走出来时一样。解决问题的机会已经不存在了。 “不是这个男人！”克里斯喊着，“根本不像！赶快把你的大屁股从这儿挪开，要不我就把你扔出去！” “睁眼看看你在跟谁说话，”格特嗤之以鼻，“我能同时上十二道菜，连一根叉子也掉不下来。” “走开，立刻给我滚！” 格特两颊发红，大步走回了野餐区。她觉得自己像个傻瓜。怎么能跟他吵起来呢？她说服自己是因为环境太糟糕——又吵闹又混乱，周围看热闹的傻瓜太多——但她知道并非如此。她心里害怕，这才是真正的原因。想到罗西的丈夫可能杀了彼得·斯洛维克已经够可怕了，但是想到他可能今天就在此地，正冒充某个瘫痪的骑师，则要可怕一千倍。她已经要发疯了…… 可是，罗西在哪里？格特只能确定一点：她绝对不在这儿。现在还不在，她自己补充说。 我把事情搞砸了，她大声地自言自语着，突然想起她对姐妹之家的女人们说过无数次的话：“如果你知道什么，你最好承认自己知道。” 好吧，她承认自己失败了，这意味着码头的保安部门帮不了她了，至少在眼前——几乎不可能说服他们相信事情的真相，即使她能做到这一点，也需要花费太长的时间。不过，她看见这摇轮椅的光头在野餐区转悠的时候，曾经跟好几个人说过话，其中大多数是女人。拉娜·克莱恩甚至还给他拿过吃的，好像是冰激凌。 格特赶紧往野餐区跑。她需要上厕所，可现在顾不上了。她得找到拉娜或者任何一个跟光头说过话的女人，可是情况恰恰就像你要找警察时常会发生的一样——当你需要他们的时候，连个人影也找不到。 她非得去洗手间不可，实在受不了了。她为什么要喝那么多该死的冰茶？