Chapter 13 Chapter 8 In the Dark · 2

For a while, he didn't answer.When she heard a muffled sound.It was only when he choked that he realized that he was crying. "Help me," he said again.Charlie stood in the doorway of the bathroom, a little bewildered.Part of her fear turned to sympathy, but part remained skeptical— Firm and definite doubt. "Help me, someone help me." He moaned softly.His voice was low, as if he didn't want anyone to hear or notice.It made her choose.She walked slowly across the room towards him, her hand outstretched in front of his face. When Yu Bird heard her approaching, he couldn't help but grinned—he covered his coldness with his hands.Smile mercilessly, in case the lights suddenly come on at this moment.

"John?" Grinning grimly, he made a sound of suppressed pain,' "I'm sorry, kid. I just... because of the darkness.I can't stand the dark.It's like where they locked me up after I got caught. "Who cares about you?" "The Communist Party of Vietnam." She is closer.The smile left Rain Bird's face, and he began to enter the character.You are very scared.You're scared because after the communist mine blew most of your face off, they locked you up in a dungeon...they kept you there...and now you wish you had a friend. In a way, it's a natural role.All he had to do was convince her that his extreme agitation in this unexpected situation was only due to extreme fear, and he would be successful.And he was indeed afraid—fear of failure.Shooting Orizon-soaked phoenixes from trees is child's play by comparison.Her intuition is unusually keen.Rain Bird could feel himself sweating profusely from tension.

"Who is the Communist Party of Vietnam?" Charlie asked.She is very close now.Her hand gently caressed Rain Bird's face.He grabbed it and held it tightly in his hand.Charlie gasped nervously. "Hey, don't be scared," he said, "It's just..." "You... hurt, you hurt me." It was exactly the sound he had hoped for.She was scared, too—afraid of the dark, afraid of him...but also anxieties about him.He wanted Charlie to feel that a drowning man had grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry, kid." He relaxed his hand a little, but not quite. "Can you sit next to me?"

"Of course." She sat down.And just as she touched the floor, Rain Bird suddenly jumped up—someone was yelling at someone far away outside. "Let's get out!" Rain Bird called out immediately, "Let's get out! Let's get out!" "Come on." Startled, Charlie said, "We're all right... aren't we?" " His brain - the high-speed machine - was searching words rapidly: sentence.Hit the draft.He warned himself not to expect much.He had already put the awl on the side of the safe, and it would be greedy to want anything else. "Yes; I suppose so," he said, "but the darkness is a little too much for me.

I don't even have a match, damn it, boy, I'm sorry.I'm not; Swearing on purpose. " "It's okay," Charlie said, "sometimes my dad says that too. One time when my dad accidentally cut off his hand, he said it five or six times. And something else." This is the longest speech she has ever said in front of Rain Bird, much longer than before, will they come and help us out right away? " "Impossible, we can only wait for the call." He said.He sounded sad, but he was actually very happy. "These doors have electric locks. When the power goes out, they will be locked tightly. They let you live in this small house. It looks good, but In fact, you might as well go to jail."

"I know," she said quietly. He still held her hand tightly, but Charlie didn't seem as disgusted by it as she had been. "But you shouldn't say it.I think they are listening. " them!The joy of victory flowed through Rain Bird's body.He was vaguely aware that he hadn't been this excited in the past ten years.them!She's talking about them! He felt his awl sink deeper into the box of Charlie McGee.he: Reluctantly, he squeezed her hand again. "Oh!" I'm sorry, boy. He said and let go of his hand. "Of course I know they're listening."But now that the power is out, they can't hear it.Oh boy, I don't like this, I gotta get out.I have to get out of here! ' He began to tremble.

"Who is the Communist Party of Vietnam?" "Don't you know? Yeah, I think you're young. That war, boy. The war in Vietnam. The communists are bad. They hide in the jungle and wear black. You've heard of the Vietnam war, yes. Bar?" Charlie knew a little...but not quite. "We were patrolling that day and we ran into an ambush." ​​He said, these are the truth. But from this point on, John Rainbird said goodbye to the truth.No need to tell her the truth, mess with her little head: They were all swelled by drugs that day; the one graduated from West Point.The crazy captain is no exception.Rain Bird had seen the captain shoot a pregnant woman with a semiautomatic rifle, and the six-month-old fetus was picked out bloody and bloody with a bayonet.Later,' the lunatic told them it was called a "West Point abortion."That day, they walked back to the base in such a delirious manner.They did come across an ambush, but the one who set up the ambush turned out to be another group of American soldiers who took more drugs.As a result, four people were blown away.

Rain Bird didn't feel the need to tell her that, much less the fact that the claymore mine that destroyed half of his face was made in a Maryland munitions factory. "There were only six of us who escaped. We ran as hard as we could. We kept running through the jungle and I think I went the wrong way. Which one was right? Which one was germanium? Knowing which way was the right way, because there was no real way there. I got separated from others. While I was still trying to find my way back, a land mine exploded under my feet. Later my That's how the face became." "What a pity," said Charlie.

"I fell into their hands when I woke up." Rain Bird started a complete fiction at this point, "If I don't answer their questions, I won't get any treatment." In fact, he was immediately admitted to a military hospital in Saigon. Now he must be cautious.He could succeed if he was careful; he could feel it. His voice was getting higher and higher, with blankness and bitterness: "The problem, the problem is not over. They want to know the... movement of the troops... the supply... the preparation of the light infantry... Everything.They never let me go.They are always asking me. "

"Yes, it is," said Charlie eagerly.Rain Bird was very happy. "I just told them over and over again that I don't know anything, that I'm just a soldier and don't know any secrets. But they don't believe me. My face... Pain: ...I knelt down and asked them for some morphine...they said wait until...after I said it, they could get the morphine, and after I said it...they could get good treatment. " Now it was Charlie's hand that was getting tighter and tighter.She thought of the cold gray eyes of Hawks Butler, and the iron plate with the wood shavings.I think you know the answer... As soon as you light it up, I'll take you to your father right away, and you'll be with him in two minutes.Charlie felt deep sympathy for this half-disfigured adult, this adult who was afraid of the dark.She felt she could understand what he had been through.She understands his pain.In the boundless darkness, she began to cry silently for him.In a way, it was also crying for myself... tears that had not been shed for the past five months were now welling up.They are tears of sorrow and anger - for John Rainbird.For her father, for her mother, and for herself.

Rain Bird's radar-sensitive ears did not let go of Charlie's silent cry.He stifles another smile.Ah, great, now his awl is deep. Some safes are easy to open, and some are difficult to open, but there is no one that cannot be opened. "They didn't believe me. In the end they threw me in a dark dungeon. Maybe you'd call it...a small room surrounded by earthen walls with tree roots sticking out...with an occasional ray of sunlight streaming in from a height of nine feet.Their commanding officer—I think he was—came in and asked me if I was going to speak.He said I was turning white like a fish; that gangrene was starting in my face and it was going to my brain. Here, corrode the brain, and then I'll go mad and die.He asked me if I wanted to get out of this darkness and go out to meet the sunshine.I beg him...I beg him...I swear on my mother's name I know nothing.But they smiled and covered the hole with a board, and then pressed it with soil.It was like I was buried alive.That darkness... like now..." His voice choked.Charlie grabbed his hand tightly and told him she was next to him. "There was a narrow passageway seven feet long in the wall on one side of the room. I had to crawl to the end of the passageway...you know. The air in there was terrible, and I kept thinking that one day I would suffocate and let Smothered in my own shit—" he moaned, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told this to a child." "That's all right. If it makes you feel better, go ahead and say it." After pretending to give way, he decided to continue talking. "I stayed there for five months until they exchanged prisoners and released me." "What did you eat then?" "They throw down rice that has stink. Sometimes eat spiders. Live spiders. Very large spiders, the kind that grow on trees I think.I hunt them down in the dark, kill them and eat them. " "Oh my God!" "They turned me into a beast," he said, pausing for a moment, just panting heavily. "You look better than me, boy, but there's not much difference in substance. It's all just pets." Rat. Do you think there will be a call soon?" She did not answer for a long time.Rain Bird was a little afraid that he had talked too much. But then Charlie said, "It's all right. The two of us are together." "Okay," he added hastily, "you won't tell them, will you? They know they'll kill me. I need this job. If you were me, you would too." Such." "No, I won't say it." He felt his awl smooth into a deeper indentation.Now they finally share a secret. Now she is in his hands. In the dark, he wondered what it would be like to put his hands around her neck.Of course, that was the ultimate goal in his eyes - not their stupid experiment or game.First her death... and then maybe his own.He liked her, really liked her.He might even fall in love with her.He would look intently into her eyes the moment he sent her off to another world.If he could find in her eyes the signal he had been looking for, he might go with her.Yes, maybe they will go into that real darkness together. Outside the locked door, the loud noise came and went, coming and going. Yu Bird regained his spirits and prepared to pursue the victory. What Andy didn't know was that they hadn't come to let him out because the power outage had locked the door itself.He did not know how long he had been in a semi-comatose state brought on by extreme panic.He believed the place was in flames and thought he could smell smoke.Outside, the storm has gradually subsided, and the afternoon sun is gradually turning towards the dusk of the evening. Suddenly, Charlie's face came into his mind clearly, as if she were standing right in front of him. (She's in danger, Charlie's in danger!) It was his hunch, the first since leaving Tasmore Pond.He'd thought it had disappeared along with his psychic powers, but now it clearly didn't, because he'd never had such a strong intuition—not even the day Vicky was murdered. Does this mean that his special function has not been lost?It doesn't disappear at all, but just hides? (Charlie is in danger!) What is the danger? He didn't know, but the thought, the fear, made Charlie's face clear in the darkness before him.And her face, her wide blue eyes and blond hair brought him deep guilt at the same time... no, even guilt wasn't enough to express what he felt inside; what he felt was horror.After the lights went out, he was almost crazy with fear, and the fear was entirely for himself.It never occurred to him that Charlie would be in the dark, too. No, they'll get her out; maybe they've already got her out.They needed Charlie, and Charlie was their golden key. The analysis made sense, but he was still sure that Charlie was in huge trouble.The worry made it hard for him to breathe. Worrying about Charlie tempered his own panic, at least made it less scary.He finally calmed down and regained his sanity.The first thing he realized was that he was sitting in a puddle of ginger ale, his pants all wet and sticky to his legs, and it made him sick. get moving.Exercise is the cure for fear. Kneeling up, he reached for the empty beer jug ​​and threw it aside.The can clanked and rolled away along the floor.Still thirsty, he took another can of beer from the refrigerator.Ike opened the tab, dropped it into the jar and started drinking.Griphook accidentally slipped into his mouth, and he spat it out without hesitation.He didn't think about how, just a few minutes ago, he would be so scared out of his wits. With one hand on the wall, he groped his way out of the kitchen.There was silence now, save for the occasional distant cry, which no longer disturbed or alarmed him.The smell of smoke is totally hallucinatory; the air is a bit stale, but that's only because of the power outage and the ventilators are out. Andy didn't go into the living room, but turned left and went back into his bedroom.He got into bed, put the beer on the bedside table, and took off his wet clothes.Ten minutes later, he changed into clean clothes and felt much better.He suddenly realized that it wasn't too much trouble for him to do these things now.But when the power went out, walking through the living room was like navigating a maze. (Charlie - what happened to her?) But his premonition told him not that something had happened to Charlie, but that danger was approaching her.If he could meet Charlie and ask her— In the dark, he smiled bitterly.Yeah, if I could meet Charlie.But what is the difference between that and wishing for the sun to rise from the west? For a moment, he stopped thinking completely.But then the brain turned again - only more calm and no longer helpless. It's like hoping that those businessmen will build up confidence and courage. Like wishing those fat housewives to lose weight. Like wishing the agent who kidnapped Charlie went blind. It's like hoping to take back your own special abilities. Bei's hands subconsciously kept pulling.Rubbing the sheets.He can't hope to regain his special ability, it has left him, and he can no longer use it like before.It's gone. (yes?) Suddenly, he wasn't so sure about it.A part of him—a deep part of him—had refused to accept the instructions of his brain to give up on himself.It had been decided never to let him sit there and continue fondling the sheets. is this real?Still a surprise.What about fantasies born of unproven hunches?Perhaps the premonition itself, like the smoke he smelled, was merely a hallucination of anxiety.He couldn't test the hunch; and there was no one here to "push" with multiplication. He took a sip of beer. Even if his supernatural powers have been restored, he also knows that this is not a panacea.He can go three-to-one before he goes down.The four of them worked hard, maybe he could see Charlie, but he had no chance of making them escape.All he could do was to exert himself until he suffered a brain hemorrhage and almost died (thinking of this, he couldn't help stretching his hands to the place on his face that had felt numb before). And the chlorproma pills they gave him.He knew that not taking medicine because of the power outage was an important reason for his panic.Even now, when he was in complete control of himself, he longed for the peace and comfort of chlorproma.At first when they put him in the experiment, they took him off the medicine for two days.The result was prolonged periods of restlessness and lingering depression...and, as far as he knew, his drug addiction was far less severe than it is now. "Let's face it, you've become a drug addict," he whispered to himself. He wondered if it was true.He knew there was a physical dependence on drugs like nicotine or heroin, which caused changes in the central nervous system.But there is also a psychological dependence.When he was teaching at the university, he used to work with a guy named Bill Vares.If this person does not drink three times a day,If you have four Cokes, you will become very restless.And his college classmate Quincy is a guy who is obsessed with potato chips - and he still sticks to a little-known brand, Handy Daunty. He said that other brands can't satisfy him. Andy thinks these probably can be classified as psychological pain.He doesn't know whether his dependence on the drug is psychological or physical; he just knows that he needs it.Need it badly.Sitting here thinking about the blue pills in the white tray would make his heart itch.He didn't know if it was because they thought he wouldn't be able to last that long without the pills, or if they were just following the protocol, since they stopped asking him to stop the eye drops 48 hours before the experiment anyway. So he faced a simple problem.Cruel and unsolvable paradox: if he takes chlorpromazine, he can't exert his psychic powers; but he doesn't have enough willpower to resist its temptation (of course, if they find him refusing to take the medicine, then They're going to have a bunch of trouble again, won't they).When it was all over, they would give him another little saucer with blue pills on it.And he will obey it obediently, and gradually, he will return to the indifferent and numb state before the power outage.Now all this is just a small episode.He will soon continue to giggle watching The PTL Club) and Clint Eastwood movies; , Charlie is in danger, she's in a lot of trouble, someone's going to hurt her.) If that's the case, there's nothing he can do about it. Even if he could really do something, even if he could really get them out of here, what was the use? ·As for Charlie's future, he is still as helpless as before. He fell on the bed, still thinking about the thorny problem of his drug on the tumor. Unable to find a solution right now, his thoughts drifted back to the past.He saw himself and Charlie—a man in a crumpled corduroy jacket and a little girl in green and red trousers—trying to escape on Third Avenue in New York in a sort of succubus slow motion; Seeing Charlie's tense and gray face with frightened and regretful tears after she got the coins from the public phone booth... She got the money and even set a soldier's shoe on fire. His thoughts wandered farther, back to his weight-loss class in Porter City, Pennsylvania, and to the miserable Mrs. Gurney.Mrs. Gurney, dressed in green, walked into his office that day, using their carefully worded ad as her own lifeline.And that ad was Charlie's idea: You're going to lose weight, or we'll pay for your food for the next six months. Mrs. Gurney had four children with her husband, a truck dispatcher, between 1950 and 1957.Now the children were all grown up and hated her; her husband hated her too.He is now in love with another woman.She can understand him.Because Stan Gurney is still fifty-five years old now.man full of vigor and charm; And she's put on 160 pounds in the time it takes for her kids to graduate from school, from 140 pounds when she got married to 300 pounds now.She walked into Andy's office without any hope, her broad hips like a bank president's desk.Her three chins turned into six as she looked down to get a check from her wallet. He grouped her with three other fat women. "They'd have physical exercise, and a proper weight-loss diet. Andy'd looked it up in the public library; sometimes they'd talk, which he called "counseling"—and he'd have them talk to them from time to time. A moderate "push". Mrs. Gurney went from 300 pounds to 280 pounds, then to 270 pounds.She admits with both horror and glee that she doesn't want to eat as much anymore.Now it seems that eating so much really makes me very uncomfortable.She used to store box after box of snacks (like nuts in the breadbox and cheese in the freezer) in the freezer for evening TV watching, but she doesn't do that anymore.It sounded unbelievable - but... she had literally forgotten they were there.She used to always hear that when you lose weight, all you can think about is snacks.But in her case, that was clearly not the case. The same change happened to the other three women in the group.Andy just stood back, watching them.He developed a strange, almost paternal feeling for them. All four of them were amazed and delighted that their experiences were so similar.What used to be a painful conditioning exercise that seemed so unbearable now becomes almost enjoyable.Then they had a strange urge to go for a walk.They both felt that if they didn't go for a walk all day, they would feel restless.Very uncomfortable.Mrs. Gurney admitted that she had developed a daily habit of walking downtown and back.Although the road is two miles long to and fro.Before, she always took the bus because the station was right in front of her house. One day, her thigh hurt so badly that she had to get on the bus.But it made her feel very uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, so she got out of the car at the second stop.Others feel the same way.They were grateful to Andie McGee for that. After the third course of treatment, Mrs. Gurney has lost 250 pounds.By the time the six-week treatment was over, she had dropped to 225 pounds.She said her husband was amazed because she had been on countless weight loss shows in the past.Tried countless weight loss diets, but nothing worked.He suggested she see a doctor because he worried she might have cancer.He didn't believe it was possible to lose 75 pounds in six weeks with natural remedies.She showed him her hands.In order to make the clothes smaller, hard calluses have been worn on them by needlework.Then she hugged him violently to her chest (nearly breaking his spine), and cried on his shoulder. His female students came back as often as his male students at college came back at least once.Some of them came to say thank you, some just came to show off their success - look, the students surpassed the teachers... Andy was both annoyed and amused at their self-righteousness. But Mrs. Gurney was the kind to say thank you.She had come to offer endless thanks to Andy when he had started to feel uneasy in Porter City about ten days before he was being watched.And at the end of that month, he went to New York. Mrs. Gurney is still a fat woman.You only see how much she's changed when you see her before she loses weight - like a comparison photo in a magazine ad. The last time she came, she was down to 195 pounds.But her actual weight is not important, what really matters is that her weight will drop steadily at a rate of 6 pounds per week, up and down by no more than 2 pounds, and her weight will drop steadily at this rate to about 130 pounds, No more than 10 pounds up or down and no danger of contracting the fatal anorexia.Andy needs money, but he won't let anyone die for it. Mrs. Gurney told Andy that her relationship with her children had become better and her relationship with her husband was improving.She declared that "whatever you do will make you a national treasure".Andy smiled and thanked her.But now, as he lay sleepily in the dark, he couldn't help thinking: Hadn't he and Charlie just been declared national treasures? After all, having psychic powers isn't entirely a bad thing.If it helps someone like Mrs. Gurney, it's still useful. "He smiled. Andy fell asleep laughing. He later could no longer remember the details of the dream.He seemed to be looking for something.In the labyrinth of dark corridors, he opened and closed the doors of empty rooms in vain.Some houses were littered with clumps of paper; another had an overturned lamp and a fallen painting.He felt as if he was locked in a building while the others had already evacuated. Andy finally found what he wanted from me in a room.That's... what: a box?a wardrobe?Whatever it was, it was heavy.And it had a skull and two bones painted on it, like the pattern on the rat poison jar in the attic.Although it was so heavy (as heavy as Mrs. Gurney), he lifted it up. He could feel the muscles and muscles all over his body tense up, but he didn't feel any pain. Of course it won't hurt, he thought.Because it was in a dream.You will pay for it later.You will be in pain later. He carried the box out of the room.He was supposed to carry it somewhere, but he didn't know where— You'll know it when you see it.His brain told him. So he carried what he didn't know was a box or a wardrobe through the endless corridor.The weight of the box weighed on him, but his muscles felt no pain at all.But his neck had started to stiffen.The headache also started. Thoughts are power, said a voice in his head.The words suddenly became a nursery rhyme, and a little girl sang its melody: Thoughts are power, and they can change the world.Thought is power, it can change— Now all the doors looked like subway doors, slightly bulging outward; the doors had large glass windows; the windows were rounded at all four corners.Through three of the doors (if they were doors at all), he saw sights that bewildered him.In the first room Dr. Varys was playing a huge accordion.He looks like a slow black horse, his fiery eyes keep approaching, approaching, da, da, da... He must have been awake for a long time before his consciousness was fully awakened.It was so dark that it was difficult for him to tell whether he was awake or asleep.A few years ago, he heard of an experiment in which monkeys were placed in an environment in which their senses were disturbed.Now, he can understand why.He didn't know how long he slept without any specific external stimulation—— "Oh my God." When he sat up, his head felt an unbearable pain.He held his head in his hands and shook it back and forth.Gradually, the headache subsided a little. No specific external stimuli other than this damn headache.My sleeping position must be wrong.I must have had a stiff neck— No, no, he recognized this headache, he was very familiar with it.It was the headache he'd had after a medium- or high-intensity session... worse than the one he'd had on fat women or cowardly businessmen, but not as severe as the one that punished the two agents who kidnapped Charlie. Andy's hand quickly touched his face, from top to bottom, from eyebrow to chin, and nothing became numb. When he smiled, his mouth curled up like before.Right now, he wished so badly that the lights would come on so he could look in the bathroom mirror to see if his eyes were bloodshot again. Failing?Is it self-inflicted? It's funny, who can I use power against here? who?Apart from-- He took a sudden breath, and then slowly returned to normal. He'd thought about it before, but never tried it.He always thought it was like constantly charging a circuit and overloading it.He is afraid to do it. my pills.he thinks.Why haven't my pills arrived yet, I need them, I really need them.My pills will make everything comfortable again. ... But this is just an idea, and no longer has the urgency and expectation of the past.Now, his desire for a slice of chlorpromazine was no greater than his desire for a stick of butter.In fact, he thought everything was fine, except for that damn headache, and he'd had headaches that were much worse before -- the one at the Albany airport, for example.This time, by contrast, is nothing but pediatrics. I "propelled" myself and worked on myself.he thought in amazement. At this time, for the first time, he really understood Charlie's feelings, because for the first time he was afraid of his psychic ability.For the first time he really understood what it was and what it could do.Why it had disappeared before, he did not understand.Why is it coming back now?He didn't understand either.Was it related to the intense fear he felt in the dark? Was it because he suddenly felt that Charlie was in danger (thinking of this, the shadow of the one-eyed pirate appeared in front of him again)?Or had he developed a deep dislike for himself because he had forgotten her for so long?Does this have anything to do with his bumping his head just now? He didn't know; all he knew was that he had "propelled" himself, that he had come out of his drugged state. The brain is the power that can change the world. It occurred to him that while he was helping businessmen and fat women, he could start a private rehab center.Thinking of this, he was completely immersed in silver fantasy.Before he fell asleep, he thought: the talent to help poor Mrs. Gurney is not useless.And what about the talents that help all the bad guys in New York City get off their drugs?Think about it, man. "Christ, am I really off the hook?" he asked himself. Blue pills on a white plate—yes, the temptation is still there, but not as strong as it used to be. "I'm literally off the hook," he replied. The next question is: Can he keep it up? But before he had time to think about this question, many other questions flooded into his mind.Can he find out what really happened to Charlie?In his sleep he used mind control over himself, like hypnotizing himself.But can he do the same to others when he wakes up?Like that always grinning Pinchert.Pinchet knew about Charlie.Can he speak out?Can he finally get her out of this place?But one thing has to be kept in mind: no more running away, that's not the solution.They must find a final solution. For the first time in months, he was so excited and hopeful.He began to draw up plans, analyze various situations, and identify problems.For the first time in months, he was using his brain flexibly.Once again he felt alive and full of energy to make a difference.And most importantly: if he can convince them of two things—one, that he's still addicted to drugs, and two, that he still can't use his mind control, he might—he might find an opportunity —to do something. He was still thinking about it when the lights came on.In another room, the TV is playing the old commercial again: God will take care of your soul, we will take care of your check. Watch, watch!They're watching you again, or will soon be...don't forget! All of a sudden, all the realities were flooding his face—if he was going to find any chance, he would have to try to deceive them and make up excuses for a long time to come.Moreover, he will definitely be caught at some point.Thinking of this, he couldn't help feeling a little disheartened... But this time, he didn't think of the pills. This made him increase his confidence in himself. He thought of Charlie.Yes, Charlie was his biggest inspiration. He slowly got up from the bed and walked into the living room. "What's the matter?" he cried. "I'm scared to death! Where's my medicine? Get my medicine!" He sat down in front of the TV with a numb expression on his face. Behind this gray mask, his brain - the power that can change the world - is working faster and faster. Like her father's dream at the same time, Charlie no longer remembered the details of her long conversation with John Rainbird, only the gist of it.She did not know how she recounted her long story to John Rainbird: how she got here; 她离开父亲后感到的恐惧；他们想尽一切办法想骗她再次使用超心理能力而使她感到的恐惧。 当然一部分原因是由于停电，以及知道那些人没有在偷听。 还有一部分原因是由于约翰·雨鸟本人。他曾经受过那么多的苦。 而且他还那么害怕黑暗以及这黑暗带给他的痛苦回忆——关押在越共手下的回忆；他曾似乎是无意地问过她，他们为什么把她关起来。于是她开始讲起自己的故事以把他从痛苦的回忆中唤回。 但很快，她的讲述就不仅仅是分散他的注意力那么简单了。她越说越快，越说越多，把许久以来郁积在心头的事都说了出来。她要说的大多了，没法停下来，也不愿停下来。这中间，她哭过一两次，他笨手笨脚地把她抱在怀里安慰着。他是一个和蔼可亲的人……很多方面都使她想起了自己的父亲。 “现在如果他们发现你已经知道了一切，”她说，“他们也会把你关起来的。我不该告诉你这些。” “是啊，他们会把我关起来。”约翰兴冲冲地说，“我只不过是个口级服务员，那样的话，我就不必再为那些大人物开酒瓶了。”他不禁笑出了声，“不过我想，如果你不跟他们说告诉了我，我们会没事的。” “我不会的。”恰莉急切他说。她自己本来还有些心神不安，担心约翰把事说出去，“我渴得厉害。冰箱里有冰水。你要来点儿吗？” “不要离开我。”他立刻说。 “好吧，那我们一起去。你可以拉着我的手。” 约翰·雨鸟似乎考虑了一下。 "Okay," he said. 他们一起摸到了厨房，手紧紧地拉在一起。 “你最好不要告诉他们，特别是这件事——这个大个子印地安人却还怕黑。他们会嘲笑我，让我在这儿待不下去的。” “他们不会笑的，如果他们知道——” “也许不会，也许会。”他咯咯地笑了一下，“但我希望他们永远不会知道。我要感谢上帝，因为有你在这里，孩子。” 她深受感动，不得不努力克制眼睛里涌上来的泪水。他们打开冰箱，摸到了冰水。它已不再冰冷，但它还是使她的嗓子很舒服。她再次不安地想起不知自己说了多长时间。但是她已经讲了……所有的事。包括那些她本不想说的，像在曼德斯农场发生的那件事。当然，豪克斯但勒那些人知道，但她并不在乎他们。她”在乎的是约翰·雨鸟……他对她的看法。 但她都说了。他本可以一针见血直指问题的关键，那她也许就会立刻警觉起来……但她说了，含着泪花讲述了自己的故事。 而他不仅没有盘问或怀疑，反而向她表达了自己的理解和同情。 他好像非常了解她经历过的不幸，因为他自己也经历过同样的不幸。 “喝点水。”她说。 “谢谢。”她听他喝完水，然后水杯又回到了她的手里“十分感谢。” 她把杯子放到一边。 “我们回那间屋子去吧。”他说，“真不知道这灯还会不会亮。”他现在有些迫不及待地想让灯亮起来。他想他们大概已经： 在黑暗中待了七个小时。他想离开这儿，好好想一想。不是想她所说的话——他早已什么都知道——而是要考虑怎样来利用它。 “我想它们马上就会亮的。”恰莉说。 他们走回沙发，坐了下来。 “他们有没有告诉你你父亲怎么样了？” “他们只是说他很好。”她说。 “我想我能见到他。”约翰·雨鸟说，就好像他是刚刚想起这个主意似地。 “真的吗？你真的能见到他吗？” “我可以哪一天和何比换换班。我会告诉他说你很好。不，不能告诉他，得给他写张纸条或别的什么办法。” “可……那样很危险。” “我知道这样做很危险，孩子。但我欠你的情。我会去看看他怎么样了。” 她在黑暗中拥抱并吻了他。雨鸟还了她一个充满温情的拥抱。他以自己的方式爱着她，而且现在这种爱比以往任何时候都更加强烈。她现在是他的了，他觉得自己也属于她。可惜时间不会太长。 他们坐在黑暗中，话说得不多。恰莉开始打起了瞌睡。忽然，他说的一句话使恰莉突然而又彻底地清醒过来，就像被一盆冷水泼在了脸上。 “他妈的。既然你有这个能力，你应该给他们把火点起来。” 恰莉惊呆了，连呼吸都停止了，就好像他给了她狠狠的一击。 “我告诉过你，”她说，“那就像……把猛兽放出笼子。我发誓再也不那么做了。在机场的那个士兵……和在农场的那些人……我杀了他们……把他们烧死了！”她的脸烧得发烫，眼泪又开始在眼眶里打转。 “照你说的来看，那应该算是自卫。” “是的，但那并不是说可以——” “而且好像那也是为了救你父亲的性命。” 恰莉不再说话，保持着沉默。但他能感觉到她内心的矛盾和痛苦。他继续向下说着，不想提醒她她差点把她父亲也杀了。 “至于那个豪克斯坦勒，我在这儿见过他。我在战争中见过他那样的人，冷酷、固执、不可理喻。如果用这种办法他不能从你这里得到他想要的，他肯定会换另一种方法。” “我最害怕的就是这个。”她低声地承认。 “再说，我们这儿还有一个可以把别人脚点着的伙计。” 恰莉吃了一惊，接着大笑起来——就像有时一个恶俗的笑话能让她发笑一样，但那仅仅是因为把它说出口是一件很不容易的事。笑完后，她喘息着说：“不，我不会点火的。我发过誓。服是不对的，我不会那样做。” “好吧，我想你是对的。” “你真的能见到我父亲吗？” “我会尽力的，孩子。” “很对不起你不得不和我一起被关在这儿，但我也很高兴．”“我也是。” 接着，他们谈论起一些无关紧要的事情来。不知不觉她把头放在了他的胳膊上。他能感到她又开始打瞌睡了——现在已经很晚了——四十分钟后，当灯再次亮起来时，她已经睡熟了。灯光射在她脸上，使她不安地动了动，把头藏到了他的怀里。雨鸟若有所思地低头看着她纤细的脖颈和头盖骨柔和的轮廓。在这脆弱的小骨头里竟有那么多的能量，这是真的吗？他的理智不愿接受，但他心里不得不承认。发现自己如此自相矛盾真是一种奇怪而又有趣的感觉。 他把她抱起来放到床上，盖上被子。当他把被子拉到她的下颌时，她不安地在梦中动了动。 在一阵冲动下，他俯身在她额头吻了一下：“晚安，孩子。” “晚安，爸爸。”她在梦中沉沉地说，然后翻了个身又睡了。 他站在床边默默地看着她．然后走回了起居室。十分钟以后，豪克斯坦勒大夫风风火火地闯了进来。 “电路故障。”他说，“暴风雨。那些该死的电锁，所有的门都锁上了。她——” “只要你说话别这么大声，她一切都很好。”雨鸟低声说。他伸出大手粗暴地揪住豪克斯但勒的领子，把他拎到面前，使他那吓坏了的脸紧贴着自己的脸，“如果下次，你再做出认得我的样子，而不把我当作一个口级清洁工的话，我就杀了你，把你剁成碎片，煮熟做成猫食。” 豪克斯坦勒吓得几乎发疯。他的嘴角流出了白沫。 “明白了吗？我会杀了你。”雨鸟再次威胁。 “我——我——我明白了。” “那我们出去吧。”雨鸟说完再次摇了摇脸色灰白。惊恐地瞪大了双眼的豪克斯但勒，然后向门口走去。 出去前，他最后向四周看了一眼，然后推着小车走了出去，随手带上了后面的自动门。卧室里，恰莉平静安详地熟睡着。几个月来，甚至几年以来，她还从没有享受过这样平静的安睡。