Chapter 10 Chapter 5 Bill Dunbon: Fighting Demons

1 Bill Dunbar thought: I'm time traveling; I'm inside a freshly fired bullet. This thought, though exact, gave him no particular comfort.In fact, from the moment the plane took off, he felt a little claustrophobic.The inside of the plane is cramped—inevitably cramped.The food wasn't fancy either, but the flight attendants put in a lot of effort; they delivered the food in the narrow aisle like a bunch of acrobats.Watching this scene, Bill can still get a little pleasure from the food, but his neighbor is indifferent to it. His neighbor has another flaw: he is fat and not very clean.Cologne was applied all over her body, but it couldn't cover up the strong smell of sweat.And his left time was not honest, giving Bill that bit from time to time.

From time to time Bill's eyes fell on the digital display panel at the front of the cabin.It shows that the current speed of the British Bullet is Mach 2.Bill did the math and was sure it was eighteen miles per minute.He didn't understand why he wanted to know this either. Although it was noon, the sky outside the porthole was not blue but pink at dusk.Where the water and the sky meet, the horizon is slightly curved.I'm sitting here, Bill thought, looking at the curve of the earth with a Bloody Mary while some filthy man elbows me. He smiled, thinking that a man who can face things like that shouldn't be afraid of anything.But he was still afraid.Not just sitting inside this brittle shell flying at his mile-per-minute speed, but feeling the town of Derry rushing toward him.It's like a carnivorous beast that has been waiting for a long time suddenly leaps from its hiding place and pounces on it.what!Derry!Will we write an ode to Derry?Praise the choking smell of those factories and rivers?Shaded by green trees.

An extremely quiet street?library?Water tower?Bath Park?Derry novel?Or the Ban Lun area? His mind suddenly opened up.It's like he's been sitting in a dark theater for 27 years, waiting for something to happen, and now it's finally happening. All the novels I write come from Derry.He thought, even foolishly, with some pleasure. Delhi is their source.They all come from what happened that summer.All the interviewers who asked me that question... I gave them the wrong answer. Elegant answer.But he never believed it.Subconsciously?Maybe, but Bill thinks people exaggerate its function—maybe it's something as simple as getting a tear in your eye when you get sand in it, or farting shortly after a big meal.The second metaphor is more vivid. , but you can't tell those interviewers that dreams, feelings, consciousness, stuff like that are non-existent things, just as simple as fart.They seem to need something.All the interviewers had laptops and interview machines, and Bill had to do what he could to help them.He only knows that writing is hard work, extremely hard.But there's no need to tell them that.

He thinks now: Even before Mike called, you knew that wasn't what they really wanted to ask.Now you know that.They want to ask not where you get your inspiration, but why you get it. Why? Derry! He straightened up suddenly, and his elbow moved uncomfortably—and stabbed his fat neighbor in the waist all at once. "Be careful!" the fat man complained. "It's narrow here, and you know it." "If you stop poking, poking me, I won't touch, touch you." The fat man stared at him with displeasure and suspicion in his eyes, as if asking, "What are you talking about?" Bill also stared stared at him until he turned back with a grunt.

He looked out the porthole again, thinking, "We're fighting demons." He felt a tingling pain in his arms and the back of his neck.He drank the rest of the wine in one gulp.He remembered one more thing. silver arrow.his bike. 28 inches tall. "You'll kill yourself on it," Bill's father said, but there was no real concern in his tone.Since George's death he cared nothing more, the former loving father had vanished.He seemed to be always listening, anticipating the sound of George coming home. Bill had seen the car in the window of the bike shop on Center Street.Of all the bikes on display in the window, that one stood out the most.It has the largest body and looks the oldest.Where it should be straight, it is curved; where it should be curved, it is straight.In front of it hangs a sign that reads "Old Cars Change Hands".

When Bill walked in, the seller offered $24, and Bill took it—he didn't even know how to haggle.Bill had been on that car since Thanksgiving. Bill paid with the pocket money he had saved for seven or eight months, and rode home.The snow on the road began to melt.Bill thought it was funny because until last year he never thought about owning a bike.That thought came out of the blue.Maybe someday in those long days after George's death. At the beginning of the ride, Bill was bumping around.There were a few near misses.But when spring was coming, he gradually controlled his war horse "Silver Arrow".His parents didn't even notice that Bill was playing with death.Bill figured his parents hadn't noticed the car since he'd bought it—to them it was just a faded keepsake leaning against the garage wall on a rainy day.

The Silver Arrow is old indeed, but it runs like a gust of wind.Bill's friend—a real friend at the time—Eddie Cusbrak was good at mechanical work.He told Bill how to take care of the Silver Arrow—which screws to tighten, how to oil the gears, how to tighten chains, and how to patch tires. "You should put some paint on it," Bill remembered Eddie saying.But Bill didn't want to paint it.He didn't know why.The Silver Arrow does look a little old, but it runs as fast as the wind.It will—"It will strike demons," he said aloud, then laughed.His fat neighbor turned and gave him a hard look.

Yes.The Silver Arrow looks very old: a lot of peeling paint, an old-fashioned basket in the back, and the bell is welded to the handlebars like a tiny fist.very old. Thank God!Silver Arrow can not only run, but also run very fast. The fourth week of June, 1958—that's when he first met Ben.The week after Hansko was the week he and Ben and Eddie built the dam, which was Ben and Richie. Silver Arrow saved Bill Dunbang's Yu the week Dorje and Beverly showed up in the Banlun area.Rich has been sitting behind Bill, sitting on the basket... Of course, the silver arrow also saved Rich's life.Bill remembered the old house they escaped from.He remembered it clearly.Right there in that damn old house on Nebert Street.

That day he charged forward to fight the demons.That's right.There was a demon with eyes like ancient coins that gleamed with death.There is also a hairy demon with a bloody mouth open.If the Silver Arrow had saved his and Richie's lives, it might have saved Eddie's life the day Bill and Eddie met Bane.Ben was killed by Henry that day.Bowles chased him to the Banron area, where Bill and Eddie were playing with building a small dam.Eddie has severe asthma and his asthma spray is empty.So Silver Arrow saved Eddie's life. Bill Dunbon hadn't ridden a bike in 17 years.He's looking out the plane window now - remembering what happened in 1958. "Hey, Silver Arrow. Let's go!"

He held back tears and thought about it. What happened to Silver Arrow?He can't remember.Totally forgot.Only darkness.Maybe it's just fine. ha yo. Ha yo, Silver Arrow. 2 "Let's go!" he yelled.The wind tore his yelling apart and drifted down his shoulders.The cry was not only loud, but also triumphant. He rode down Kansas Avenue, slowly at first.Watching that gray bike start is like watching a plane take off.At first you can't believe that such a huge thing can leave the ground, but when you see its shadow on the ground, before you have time to wonder if it is an illusion, the plane has already passed through the clouds, and its figure is so graceful It's like a sweet dream.

Silver Arrow is like that. Bill rode the Silver Arrow to a downhill, and then he pedaled faster and faster, his legs kept pedaling up and down--the Silver Arrow flew away like flying.That summer, when Richie saw that scene, he thought to himself that Bill was doing that to keep certain kids alive. He and Eddie had lowered the car seat to its lowest position.But when he rode, the seat still kept rubbing against his lower back.A woman who was weeding in the garden watched him fly by with an arbor.She smiled.A little boy on a bike that big reminded her of a circus monkey on a unicycle. "He's going to have an accident that way." Although it was none of her business, she still thought, "That car is too big." 3 When Bill watched the aggressive older kids come out of the bushes, it never occurred to him to argue with them.But Eddie has been captured by Henry.Bowers was punched in the nose, and to make matters worse he left his mouth open when he was punched. Of course Bill knew who they were.Henry, Beltz, and Victor were the bullies of the Derry school.They beat Ricky.Dorje - Bill's good friend.In Bill's view, Rich himself was at fault; his nickname was "Dirty Mouth," but he himself didn't know that a dirty mouth was worthless. One day in April, as the three bullies walked by, Richie started commenting on their turned up collars.Bill sat against the wall, throwing pebbles listlessly, and didn't hear a thing.Neither did Henry and his gang. ...But they felt that they had noticed something, and looked towards Rich.Bill guessed that Richie wanted to whisper, but the problem was, Richie's voice never went lower—"What are you talking about, little four-eyed ghost?" Victor.Chris spoke first. "I didn't say anything," Richie said.His confession was written all over his face—the face turned pale and frightened—and that might be the end of the matter.But what's worse is that Rich's mouth is like a ferocious wild horse, often kicking its hoof inexplicably.He suddenly added: "It's time to dig out the earwax, buddy. Would you like some dynamite?" Henry and his group were stunned.They looked at him in disbelief, then lunged at him.From that vantage point, Stuttering Bill watched the uneven race from start to finish.Those 3 guys have gone crazy.They were ready to beat the little one to death any moment. Richie sprinted across the elementary school playground, jumping over the seesaw and dodging the swing set before realizing he had hit a dead end—a fence ahead separated the playground from the adjoining park.He began to struggle to climb up, but was caught by Henry and Victor just two-thirds of the way up.Richie screamed, but Henry grabbed his back and Victor grabbed his pants and ripped him off in one go.Richie fell to the ground on his back, his glasses flying out.He hurriedly stretched out his hand to grab it, but Beltz caught up with him and kicked the glasses away.That's why Richie's glasses had tape all over that summer. Bill was also terrified.He hurried around to the front.He saw Mrs. Moran had risen.But he knew that by the time Mrs. Moran arrived, Rich had had enough.In fact, when Mrs. Moran arrived, Rich was already crying.Bill had only a few frictions with them. Of course they made fun of his stuttering.One rainy day, just as they were about to eat lunch, Beltz.Hudgens knocked the lunch box out of his hand, then stomped on it with his foot, squeezing all the food out. "Oh! God, God. God!" Beltz deliberately pretended to be terrified, and gestured with his hands in front of Bill. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry, fuck, fuck, ruined your lunch, lunch, lunch." Then he strutted over to Victor, laughing like hell.But that's not too bad.In the end, Eddie gave him half of the hamburger, and Richie happily gave him an egg—he said he had to bring it with him, but he didn't like it. But you have to hide from Henry's gang, and if you can't, then you have to try to disappear. Eddie forgot that rule, and they got a kick out of him. Eddie could hold out as the bad guys glared downstream.His nose was bleeding profusely, and his handkerchief was soaked.Bill handed him his handkerchief, and put a hand on the nape of his neck, holding his head back.Bill remembered that when George had a nosebleed, Mama did the same thing—better not to think about George.sad. Until the sound of those guys' kicking footsteps disappeared completely, Eddie's nosebleed stopped, but his asthma recurred.His breathing became more and more rapid, and his throat began to hoarse. "Shit!" Eddie gasped. "Asthma! Medicine!" Fumbling hastily, he finally pulled out the asthma spray from his pocket.He put the mouthpiece of the spray to his mouth and started squeezing. "Is it better?" Bill asked anxiously. "No. It's empty." Eddie looked at Bill with those terrified eyes that seemed to say, "I can't do it, Bill! I can't do it!" The empty bottle slipped from his hand.The creek was still rushing, and it didn't care about their business at all.Bill remembered how the older kids had laughed at them: That dam was just a kid's play.His rage boiled over—those guys had been laughing at them. "Don't, don't, don't be nervous, Ed, Eddie." Bill tried to reassure him. For about 40 minutes after that, Bill sat next to Eddie, hoping that Eddie's asthma would gradually decrease until it was back to normal.But instead of getting better, the asthma got worse, and Bill panicked.Eddie bought his medicine on Center Street, almost three miles away.If he went to get Eddie's medicine, what if Eddie passed out?Pass out or even die... like George!No!He will not die! So Bill sat next to Eddie, knowing he should go there, because Eddie wasn't doing Eddie any good by waiting like this.But he didn't dare to leave, didn't dare to let Eddie stay here alone. He had an almost irrational idea that Eddie would slip into a coma the moment he turned away.Just then, Ben.Hansko appeared.Of course he knew who Bensi was.The fattest kid in any school is notorious.Benth is in fifth grade.Bill sometimes saw him resting.He was always standing alone—often in a corner—reading a book or eating from his big bag. Bane's image was even bigger than Henry's at the time.Bowles' image was even worse.He was wearing a pair of shorts; his hair was disheveled and covered in mud; his sweatshirt was filthy, covered in blood and weeds. Seeing Bill looking at him, too, Ben recoiled, eyes full of caution. "No, no, no, don't go, go!" Bill yelled.He held his hands up high, showing that he was harmless. "I, I, we need help, help, help." Ben moved closer, but still cautiously. "Are they gone? Bowles and the others?" "Y-yes," Bill replied, "Listen, can you-you-can you stay with my friend? I gotta get his meds. —” "asthma?" Bill nodded quickly. Ben stepped over the damaged dam, walked to Eddie's side, and knelt down on one knee with difficulty.Eddie lay there, eyes closed, chest heaving. "Which guy did it?" Ben asked, looking up.In that face Bill saw the same anger that he had. "Henry Bowles?" Bill nodded. "I guess so. Go ahead. I'm with him." "thanks, thanks." "Oh, don't thank me," Ben said. "I brought them here. Go ahead. I still have to go home for dinner. " Bill left without saying a word.Maybe tell Ben not to take it too seriously—Eddie's not good himself, with his mouth open stupidly. Bill crossed the creek and looked back.He saw Ben picking stones from the water's edge with a heavy face.At first he didn't know what Ben was up to, but he figured it out right away.Ben was afraid of those talk boys coming back. 4 The Banron area is not at all mysterious to Bill.He often comes here to play this spring. Sometimes with Richie, but more often with Eddie.Sometimes, he just comes alone.He didn't mean to explore, but because he knew the way from home to here.He walked onto a wooden bridge.An unnamed creek under the bridge carried the wastewater from Derry down to the Kentucky River below.His bicycle was suspended under the wooden bridge, the handlebars and a section of bridge railing were tied together with a rope so that the wheels would not be submerged in the water. Bill untied the rope, put it in his arms, and pulled the silver arrow up with all his strength.He was sweating profusely from exhaustion. If you don't leave, it will be too late.Bill flew into his car. As usual, Bill was a different person once he mounted the Silver Arrow. 5 "Ha yo, Silver Arrow! Walk the tide!" His barking was lower than his usual voice—as if it had suddenly become an adult voice.Bill stomped on the pedals, his wrists gripping the handlebars like dumbbells.He tried his best to make the silver arrow break through the resistance and accelerate forward. Silver Arrow always lived up to his efforts. It ran faster and faster, and the houses on both sides of the road slid past.On the left is the intersection of Kansas Avenue and Jackson Avenue, follow Kansas Avenue, cross the intersection, and you will reach Center Avenue. Bill pedaled furiously.He leaned over the handlebars to try to reduce the resistance of the wind, and kept honking the horn with one hand on the rubber bell.His red hair was blown like rippling waves by the wind.At this time, the sound from the bicycle chain box became louder and louder. At first it was "Kata Kata", and then it almost seemed to be shouting "Ha, Silver Arrow! Let's go!" He screamed excitedly. shouted. From here it's all downhill.Bill's feet were off the pedals, letting the silver arrow slide freely.He seems to be flying now. All the unhappiness was forgotten now: his stutter; Dad's blank, hurt eyes; and the dusty piano.The last time that piano was played was at George's funeral - three requiems were played.George left the house in a yellow raincoat with a little paper boat he had just made; Mr. Gardner returned 20 minutes later with his body in a blood-stained blanket; mother screamed in agony.All this is forgotten.He is a lonely and strong wanderer, not a frightened child crying for his mother. His feet began to pedal hard again.He wants to achieve a speed - not of sound, but of memory - and he wants to break down the barrier of pain. He rides on and on, he rides on his handlebars; he fights demons. There is a T-junction ahead, and Zhongxin Street will be there soon.But he was walking on a one-way street where many cars were stuck.Bill turned this way and that, as usual, and swam like a small fish into the traffic.He sees the needle, looks for the gap and goes in, but it is too dangerous after all-he is almost hit by a bus.He glanced at the driver, only to see that the driver's face was pale, he was shaking his fist at him, and he was still yelling something.Bill guessed it meant "Happy Birthday." The worst - and the best - journey is over.Danger passed him by at the nick of time.Now he started uphill again.The speed slowly dropped.Something—call it "desire" shall I?—was gone.All the thoughts, all the memories climbed up again and got into his head.All right!Think of George! You're thinking too much, Bill. No - that's not a problem.The problem is, he's imagining too much. He turned into an alley, and after a while he got out on Zhongxin Street.He rode slower and slower, sweat soaking his back and hair.He got out of the car in front of the Center Street drugstore and walked over. 6 Mr. Kenny, the pharmacist at the Center Street Drugstore, wasn't very nice—or at least Bill thought so—but he was patient enough not to crack jokes.Bill's stutter was worse now, and he was genuinely afraid that something would happen to Eddie if he didn't hurry up. So when Mr. Kearney said, "Hello, Bill Dunbar, what would you like?" Bill picked up a vitamin ad, turned it over, and wrote on it: "Eddie Cusblanc Playing with me in Banron. He's got a bad asthma attack and can barely breathe. Can you fill his asthma spray?" He pushed the note over.When Mr. Kenny finished reading, he looked into Bill's anxious blue eyes and said, "No problem. You just wait here." Bill waited anxiously, his feet moving restlessly, when Mr. Kenny got behind the counter.Although it took less than 5 minutes to charge the powder, it felt like a year to Bill.Mr. Kenny handed him the spray, and said with a smile: "With this medicine, there will be no problem." "Thanks, thank you," Bill said, "but I didn't bring, take, take—" "It's all right, son. I'll pass it on to Eddie's mother, Mrs. Cusblanc. I'm sure she'll appreciate it." Bill was relieved to hear that.He thanked Mr. Kenny and left immediately. Mr. Kenny stood inside the counter and watched him go.He saw Bill throw the asthma spray into the basket and step awkwardly into the car. "How can he ride such a big bike?" Mr. Kenny was skeptical.But Bill actually stepped on it, and then rode away slowly.The bicycle looked ridiculous, shaking from side to side.The bottle of medicine was also dangling in the basket. Mr. Kenny grinned.If Bill saw him smile like that, he'd be sure Mr. Kenny wasn't a nice guy.That smile was a bit sour—Kenny suspected that the bottle of medicine that had no effect on the human body would have a miraculous effect?On each bottle of asthma spray, Kenny neatly affixes a label that reads "Oxygen Hydrogen Mist Spray."The medicine is a mixture of hydrogen and oxygen, with a little camphor added to add some faint medicinal smell. In other words, Eddie's asthma medicine was tap water. 7 On the way back, Bill took a lot of time, because it was all uphill.In some places, he had to get out of the car and push it.In fact, he was so exhausted that he couldn't even ride a small quilt. It was ten past four by the time he hid his bike and headed for Eddie.His head was filled with terrible ideas.That kid named Ben probably dumped Eddie to die.Those bad boys might come back and beat them both to death. Or...worst of all...the one who murdered children could kill one or all of them.Like it murdered George. He knew that there was much gossip in Derry.Bill was a stutter, but he wasn't deaf - although sometimes people thought he must be, since he only spoke when necessary. Bill believed all those victims were killed by the same person...if it was a person.Sometimes he thinks about that too, like he sometimes wonders how he feels about Derry this summer.Is it because of George's death that his parents seem to ignore him, wallowing in their grief, without noticing that he's still alive and possibly hurt?Are those things connected to other murders?Why now some voices sometimes seem to be whispering in his head (of course they are not his own because they don't stutter - they are quiet,) let him do something instead of someone else Woolen cloth?Are there things that make Derry seem different—something dangerous, even some streets seem to maintain an eerie silence?Is that what makes certain faces look mysterious and frightened? He doesn't know, but he believes.This made Derry really change, and his brother's death was only a sign of that change.The frightening vision that haunted his mind was born of the idea that anything was possible in Derry right now.anything. But when he got to Eddie, everything looked fine.Ben.Hansko was still there, sitting next to Eddie.Eddie himself sat up, his hands hanging in his lap, his head bowed, still panting.The setting sun was already low, casting the shadows of the trees into the creek. "Yes, it's pretty fast," Ben stood up, "I thought you wouldn't be back in half an hour." "My bicycle is very, very, very fast." Bill said proudly.At this moment, the two children looked at each other carefully.Ben smiled tentatively, and then Bill smiled too.Although this child is fat, he seems to be a good person.He kept his promises despite the dangers. Bill winked at Eddie.He was looking at Bill gratefully. "Here, here you are, Ai, Ai, Ai, Eddie." Bill threw the spray over.Eddie put the spout of the bottle into his mouth, tapped it a few times, took a big breath, then tilted his head back and closed his eyes.Ben looked at this with concern on his face. "My God! He's very ill, isn't he?" Bill nodded. "I freaked out," Ben murmured. "If he's having a seizure or something, I don't know what to do. I'm just trying to remember what they told us at the Red Cross in April. I can do All I had to do was put a stick in his mouth so he wouldn't bite off his tongue." "I think it's for epilepsy, epilepsy, epilepsy." "Oh, yes. You're right." "He won't, won't have spasms, spasms, spasms," Bill said. "The medicine, medicine, medicine will cure, cure him immediately. You, you, you see." Eddie's painful breathing stopped.He opened his eyes and looked at the two of them. "Thank you, Bill," he said. "This water really works." "Did you have asthma when they broke your nose?" asked Ben. Eddie grinned sadly and stood up, stuffing the spray into his trouser pocket. "It's not because of the nose at all, but because I think of my mother." "Really? Really?" Ben asked in surprise, holding his dirty sweatshirt with one hand and fiddling uneasily. "She would have sent me to the Derry Family Hospital emergency room within five seconds of seeing the blood on my shirt." "Why?" Ben asked again. "It's not bleeding anymore, is it?" "Bleeding or not," Eddie said sadly, "she's gonna put me in there. She's gonna think I broke my nose and got some bone in my brain or something." "Will the brain, the brain, go into the bone?" Bill asked again.This is the funniest conversation I've had in weeks. "I don't know. If you listened to my mom, you'd know." Eddie turned to Ben again. "She sends me to the emergency room once or twice a month. I hate that place. She's a money order from the hospital." "Wow!" Ben exclaimed.He thought Eddie's mother was really weird. "Why don't you object? You just say 'Mom, I feel fine, I just want to stay home and watch TV'." "Yeah." Eddie replied reluctantly, and then fell silent. "You're Ben. Han, Han, Han, Hansko, right, right?" Bill said. "Yes. You are Bill Dunbar." "That's right. He's Ai, Ai, Ai, Ai—" "Eddie Cusbrak," Eddie said, picking up from Hong, "I hate it when you stutter my name, Bill." "Yes, sorry." "Okay, nice to meet you two," Ben said.His voice was a little reserved. 3 people are silent.But that silence was just a tacit understanding - they were already friends. "Why are those people chasing you?" Eddie finally said. "They're always, always chasing, chasing," Bill said. "I hate, loathe the fuckin' guys." Suddenly Ben fell silent—mostly out of pride—and Bill actually said those "nasty things" that Bane would never dare say out loud himself. "Bowers sat next to me during the final exam," Benn said. "He tried to copy my answers, and I didn't let him copy them." "You must be looking for death, buddy," Eddie said admiringly. Stuttering Bill burst out laughing.Ben stared at him, realized he wasn't laughing at him, and smiled too. "I suppose so," said Ben, "he's got to go to summer school anyway. He and his accomplices always wanted revenge, and that's how those things happened. " "Look, it looks like you were almost killed, killed by him, him, them," Bill said. "I got knocked down on Kansas Avenue. Just over the hill." Ben looked at Eddie, and continued, "I might have met you in the emergency room. If my mom saw me the way she was, she'd see me too." I'll send it there." Bill and Eddie both burst out laughing, and Ben laughed out loud too.Laughing so loudly made his stomach hurt, but he laughed anyway, and it was shrill and hysterical.Finally he had to sit down to stop laughing.He likes it.It was laughter he had never heard before: in the mix he was a part of it.He looked up at Bill Dunbon.Their eyes met.They both laughed again. Bill tugged at his trousers, flicked his shirt collar with his fingers, walked up lazily and swaggering, and said in a sad low voice, "I'm going to kill you, boy. Cut the crap. I'm stupid, but I'm big. I can smash a walnut with my head. I piss on vinegar and pull on cement. My name's Henry Powers. I'm a rascal everywhere." Eddie fell to the ground laughing, clutching his stomach and rolling around.Ben sat there with his head bent between his knees, laughing and crying. Bill sat down too. The three of them gradually regained their composure. "That's nice," Eddie said. "If Bowles was in cram school, we wouldn't see him here." "Do you guys come here often?" Ben asked.He had never expected to be here before - the Banron area had a bad reputation - but now he was here, and it didn't seem bad at all.In fact, it was during this period of near dusk that the place became very comfortable. "D-dang, of course. It's very, very good here. The most, most important thing is that no one hits, hits, or bothers us. We often, often, often. Bao, Bao, and Bowers are not at all I wouldn't come here, here." "Just you and Eddie?" "Right, reason, reason—" Bill shook his head.His face was wrinkled like a wet rag when he licked.Ben looked at him and suddenly remembered that he had just laughed at Henry. Bill didn't stutter at all when Bowers was at it. "Ricky!" Bill finally yelled, paused, and continued, "Ricky, Do, and Dorje come here a lot, too. But today, today he and his dad, dad, have to clean the atrium, atrium, atrium." -" "Attic," Eddie translated for him, throwing a pebble into the water. "thump." "I know him," Ben said. "You guys come together a lot, don't you?" Ben thinks he's obsessed with that. "Come by, by, often," Bill said, "w-w-why don't you come tomorrow? Me, me and Ai, Ai, Eddie are building a dam." Ben said nothing.What stunned him was not only the invitation, but also the casualness and simplicity that accompanied it. "Maybe we've got to do something else," Eddie said. "The dam isn't working so well." Ben stood up, approached the creek, and washed the booty off his fat legs. There were still some twigs piled up on either side of the creek, but the rest had been washed away. "You gotta get some boards," Ben said, "get some boards and put them in a row... facing each other... like sandwich bread." Both Bill and Eddie looked at him, puzzled.Benth got down on one knee and said, "Look, the boards are here and here. Fix them face to face on the river bed. Will you? Then, before the water washes them away, you'll have to quickly remove them with rocks and sand. The place in the middle is nice—” "Me, me, us," Bill said. "Ok?" "I, we will do it together." "Oh." Banth agreed, feeling very stupid, but also very happy-he didn't think he had ever been so happy before. “好的。我们一起。不管怎样，如果你们——我们——用石头和沙子把中间的空隙填好，那么木板就不会移动了。上游的木板挡住流水，第二块木板挡住沙石。如果我们再有第三块木板的话，就顶住第二块，那样就万元一失了。” “你以前建过水坝吗？”艾迪问道。他的说气里充满了尊敬，甚至是敬畏。 “从没。” “那么你怎、怎、怎么知道那会成、成、成功呢？” 班恩有些迷惑地看着比尔。“当然会成功，”他反问，“难道不是吗？” “但是你怎、怎、怎么知、知道的呢？”比尔问道。班恩听出比尔的话里没有任何嘲讽，而是充满了好奇。 “我只是知道。”班恩说。他从来就没有见过真正的围堰。他也怀疑自己的想法是从哪里来的。 “好、好吧。”比尔拍了一下班恩的后背，说道，“明、明、明天见、见。” "when?" “我、我和艾、艾迪会在八、八、八点半左右到、到这里——” “如果我和我妈不到急诊室的话。”艾迪说完，叹了口气。 “我会拿些木板来，”班恩说道，“我们旁边的一个街区里，有个老人那里有很多。我去要一些来。” “再带些补给，”艾迪说，“吃的东西。像三明治之类的。” "OK." “你、你有枪、枪、枪吗？” “我有一把气枪，”班恩说，“我妈给我的圣诞节礼物。但是如果我在家里放枪，她就会跟我发火。” “把、把它带、带、带来，”比尔说道，“我们还可能玩、玩枪。” “好的！”班恩很高兴。“但是，现在我得回家了。” “我、我们也得回、回去了。” 三个人一块儿离开了班伦。上坡时班恩还帮比尔推了车。艾迪跟在后面，嘶嘶地喘着气，一面不高兴地看着自己衬衫上的血迹。 比尔说了声再见，骑上车就走了，一面还高声叫着：“哈哟，银箭，走嘞！” “那车可真大。”班恩说。 “用你的毛打赌。”艾迪也说。他又呼吸了一口哮喘喷雾，呼吸才正常了。“有时他把我带在后面。骑得那么快，把我的尿都快吓出来了。比尔是个好人。”他不假思索地说了出来，但是那双充满崇敬的眼睛似乎在加以强调。“你听说过他弟弟发生的事吗？” “不知道——什么事？” “去年秋天遇害了。有人杀了他，还把他的一只胳膊像撕苍蝇翅膀一样撕掉了。” "My God!" “比尔以前只是稍微有些结巴。现在越来越厉害了。你注意他结巴没有？” "yes." “我告诉你，如果你想让比尔成为你的朋友，那么你最好不要在他面前提起他弟弟。别问他那样的问题。他对那些东西过敏。” “好，我一定不会的。”班恩回答。他现在模模糊糊地记起去年秋天是有个小孩被杀。是不是因为乔治。邓邦，或者那些最近发生的谋杀案，妈妈才给他手表的？he does not know. “是不是就在那场大洪水之后发生的？” "yes. 他们走到堪萨斯大街和杰克逊大街的十字路口，两人得分开了。 孩子们到处在玩耍，有捉迷藏的，还有扔棒球的。一个头戴棒球帽、身穿蓝裤衩的胖小孩旁若无人地从他们身边跑过，一边跑一边还摇着一个呼啦圈，嘴着嚷着：“藏好了没有？我要捉了，嗅？” 两个大孩子看着他，觉得很有意思。艾迪说：“好了，我得走了。” “等等，”班恩说，“如果你不想去急诊室，我倒有个主意。” “真的？”艾迪看着班恩，有些怀疑但又怀有希望。 “你有5分钱吗？” “我有一角。那又怎样？” 班恩瞅着艾迪衬衫上那些已干的血迹，说道：“在商店里买上一杯巧克力牛奶，泼一半牛奶到衬衣上，回家告诉你妈就说把所有的牛奶都洒上去了。” 艾迪的眼睛一下子亮了起来。自从他爸在4年前去世之后，他妈的视力每况愈下。但是出于虚荣，她不仅拒绝去看眼科医生，也拒绝配眼镜。干了的血迹和巧克力牛奶的污迹看起来几乎一样。Maybe…… “可能行得通。”他说。 “要是发现了可千万别说是我说的。” “不会的，”艾迪说，“再见了。” “好的。你知道吗？你们一伙可真酷。”班恩发自内心地赞叹。 艾迪看起来不只是尴尬，而是几乎有些不安了。“比尔才是。”说完，他就走了。 班恩望着艾迪沿着杰克逊大街走了，他也转身要回家。就在此时，他看见就在杰克逊大街和梅恩大街的拐角处的汽车站牌下面站着3个熟悉的身影。尽管有3个街区远，但是他仍旧看得很清楚。他们正背对着他——他真是太幸运了。班恩连忙躲到一个篱笆后面，他的心跳得很厉害。5分钟之后，公共汽车开了过来。亨利一伙人把烟头扔到路上，上了车。 直到汽车消失在视线之外，班恩才慌慌张张地赶回家去。 8 那天夜里，一件可怕的事情发生在比尔·邓邦身上。那已经是第二次了。 当时他的父母正在楼下看电视，他们一边一个坐在长椅上，无声无息地像两个书档。乔治没出事的时候，此刻客厅里会充满欢声笑语，有时连电视的声音都听不见。“闭嘴，乔治！”比尔会大声叫嚷。 “别把所有的爆米花都吃光，我也要。”乔治会还嘴说：“妈！你让比尔给我爆米花。”“比尔，给他爆米花。乔治别老叫我'妈'。只有羊才那么叫。”或者有时他爸会讲个笑话，然后大伙会一齐笑起来。 那时候，妈妈和爸爸也像两个书档，但是他和乔治是书籍。 乔治死后，比尔还想成为他们中间的书，但是很难。他们俩浑身都散发着寒意，让比尔感到寒冷刺骨。他不得不离开那里——那种寒冷总是使他的双颊冰冷，使他想流泪。 乔治的房间仍然是他生前的老样子。就在他被安葬两周之后的一天，扎克把他的一大堆玩具放在一个箱子里。比尔猜爸爸大概要把那些玩具送给善心会或者救世军之类的地方。但是爸爸抱着箱子刚出房门，就碰上了妈妈。妈妈双手发抖，一下子抓住了自己的头发，疯狂地尖叫起来：“你竟敢拿走他的东西！”比尔见此情形，两腿发软，不由得靠在了墙上。而爸爸也退缩了，他一句话也没说又把一箱玩具搬回乔治的房间，甚至又把那些玩具放在了原先的地方。比尔走进去，只见他爸双手抱着头，跪在乔治的床前（那张床也是老样子，尽管妈妈把床单一周一换改成了两周一换）。爸爸的哭泣更加剧了比尔的恐惧。一个可怕的想法突现在他的脑海里：也许他们会在错误的路上越走越远，直到一切糟糕得无法挽救。 “爸、爸、爸爸——” “去干你的事吧，比尔。”爸爸含糊地说。他的声音在颤抖；背部也在不停地起伏。 "Go." 比尔离开了。走到楼上的客厅，他听见妈妈也在楼下哭泣，声音那么凄惨，那么无助。比尔心想：“为什么他们哭泣的时候要离得这么远？”然后，他把这个想法从脑袋里赶了出去。 9 就在暑假开始的第一天，比尔走进了乔治的房间。他的心在胸膛里怦怦直跳；双腿也很僵硬，有点不听使唤。他常来乔治的房间，但那并不意味他喜欢这里。这里的一切都有乔治留下的痕迹。他走了进来，心里不由自主地担心壁橱的门会突然打开，就在那个仍然挂着乔治衣服的地方，那个乔治会突然出现：他身上穿着的雨衣沾满鲜血，那只没有胳膊的袖子耷拉着；那双眼睛是可怕的死白色，就像是电影里的行尸那样；当他从壁橱向比尔走来的时候，脚上的那双雨鞋会发出咯吱咯吱的声音，一种极为恐怖的声音——某个晚上如果正坐在乔治的床上，看着墙上的那些图画的时候，恰好赶上停电，比尔肯定自己会突然心脏病发作，甚至会在10秒钟之内致命。但是比尔仍然走进了乔治的房间——他一面抵抗着对乔治幽灵的恐怖，同时尽力从乔治之死的阴影中脱离。他不是为了忘记乔治，而是使乔治不再显得那么可怕。他明白父母无法逃脱那种阴影，他只能依靠他自己。 走进乔治的房间不仅是为他自己，而且也是为乔治。他爱过乔治，他们的关系一直非常好。可悲的是乔治已经死了。而更糟糕的是……乔治竟然变成了某种可怕的怪物。 比尔想念弟弟，那是事实。他想念乔治的声音、乔治的笑声，想念乔治看他的那种眼神。但是奇怪的是，他现在对乔治有一种莫名的害怕。他尽力在两种感情之间调和——他感觉就要找到一个融合点。 有时他会翻看乔治的书，有时他会察看一下乔治的玩具。 自从去年11月以来，他还从来没看过乔治的相册。 现在，也就是遇到班恩。汉斯科的那天晚上，比尔打开了乔治房间里壁橱的门，小心翼翼地把相册从上面的架子上取了下来。 我的相册——封面上是四个烫金的大字。在那四个大字的下面，贴着一条胶带，上面写着“乔治邻邦，六岁”。比尔把相册拿到了乔治的床上。他的心跳得更厉害了。他不知道为什么自己要把乔治的相册拿下来。从去年11月那件事情发生之后…… 再看一眼，就这样。只是为了说服自己去年11月发生的事不是真的。那次只是自己的脑袋发昏了。 All right. 那可能是真的。但是比尔怀疑只是相册在作怪。大概只是相册造成的幻觉。或者只是自己的幻想——现在他打开了相册。相册里装满了乔治收集的母亲、父亲、叔叔们和阿姨们的照片。不管照片上的那些人或者认识还是不认识，乔治一概都收进自己的相册。每当乔治又收集到一张新照片，他就会翘着腿坐到比尔现在坐着的地方，仔细地加以研究。这是妈妈年轻时的照片，她那时很胖；这是爸爸18岁打猎时的照片；那是哈伊特叔叔，他手里拿着一条小梭鱼站在一块石头上；还有其他好多好多各式各样的照片，乔治一律把它们收集过来塞进了自己的相册里。 在这里比尔又看见了自己3岁时的照片：他头上缠着绷带，坐在医院的病床上。那是在中心大街商店前面的停车场被汽车撞的。他对那桩事记得很少，只记得吃了一个冰淇淋，还有脑袋大疼了三天。 这是他们的全家福，是在他们家的草地前面照的。比尔站在妈妈身边，拉着她的手；乔治，只是一个小婴儿，睡在爸爸的怀里。还有这里是——这里并不是相册的末尾，但这是最后一张，因为后面的都是空白了。这是乔治在学校里的照片，就在去年10月他死前不到10天的时候照的。照片里的乔治穿着一件圆领的T恤衫，头发是抹了水才压下去的。他正在咧着嘴笑着，露出了两颗豁牙，那个地方新牙永远不会再生了——“除非在你死后还会长大。”比尔想着，不由得哆嗦了一下。 他盯着那张照片看了一会，但是等到他就要合上相册的时候，去年11月发生过的事情又发生了。 照片上乔治的眼睛开始转动起来，然后盯着比尔的眼睛。他那装出来的笑容变成了可怕的斜睨。那只右眼还眨了一下，好像在说：“很快就见到你了，比尔。就在我的壁橱。也许今晚。” 比尔一下子把相册扔了出去，用双手捂住了自己的嘴。 相册打到了墙上，又掉到了地板上，打开了。尽管一丝风都没有，但是那纸负仍然在翻动着——又翻到了那张可怕的照片！照片的下面还写着“学友1957－1958”。 鲜血从那张照片上流了下来。 比尔目瞪口呆地坐在地上，头发直竖起来，全身像是有什么东西在爬。他想要大声尖叫，但是惟一发出的是从喉咙里传出的微弱的声音。 鲜血流过纸页，开始滴到地板上。 比尔猛地站起来，甩上门逃了出去。