Chapter 16 Chapter 9 Complete Liberation · 2(1)

10 The individual walked to a row of chairs along the wall and sat down.Through the glass window, Beverly saw the soapy water turn red, and she felt a little sick.But she didn't look away, the red foam seemed to have some inexplicable attraction.From time to time the woman in the soil guard uniform looked up at them.When the clothes were drying, she folded them, put them in a blue laundry bag, gave them a suspicious look, and left. As soon as she was gone, Ben said suddenly, "You're not alone." His voice was almost harsh. "What?" Beverly asked. "You're not alone," Ben repeated, "Look—"

He stops and looks at Eddie, who nods.He looked at Stanley again, and Stanley looked unhappy...but after a while, he shrugged and nodded too. "What the hell are you talking about?" Beverly hated today when people said vague things to her.She grabbed Ben's forearm. "If you know something, tell me!" "Do you want to speak up?" Ben asked Eddie. Eddie shook his head.He took the spray out of his pocket and took a deep breath. Ben weighed his words as he slowly told Beverly how he had met Neighbor Bill and Eddie Castleblank on the Benlun Lowlands on the day of the school holidays—that was almost a week before, and it was unbelievable. confidence.He told her how they built a dam there the next day.He told her how Bill had seen his dead brother turn his head and blink in the picture.

He also told her that he saw a mummy walking on a frozen canal in winter with a balloon in his hand.The more Beverly listened, the more frightened she became. She could feel that her eyes were getting bigger and bigger, and her hands and feet were getting colder and colder. When Ben finished speaking, he looked at Eddie.Eddie took another breath of his asthma spray and told the story of the leper again.He spoke quickly, and the words in his mouth seemed to be squeezed out one by one.After he finished speaking, he almost choked up, but this time he didn't cry. "What about you?" Beverly looked at Stanley Ulis.

"I" He fell silent suddenly.Everyone felt that something was about to explode. "Done," said Stanley. They watched him get up and carefully turn on the washing machine.He took out the rags he had stirred up and examined them carefully. "There's still a few that haven't been cleaned," he said, "but it's not too bad, it looks like jam." He picked it up and showed them.Everyone seemed to be reviewing important files, and they all nodded with serious faces.Beverly's mood was the same as that of cleaning the bathroom just now, and she was much more relaxed.They've done something important -- it seems important.Maybe not exactly effective, but it gave her a great deal of comfort and love for her soul, and it was good enough for her.

Stanley stuffed the rag back into the dryer and dropped two coins.The machine started to turn.Stanley walked back and sat between Eddie and Ben again. Then all four of them sat quietly, watching the rags rise and fall, rise and fall. The monotonous sound of the machine was almost hypnotic. "What did I actually see? Stanley broke the silence," I didn't want to say because I'd rather believe it was a dream or something.Maybe it was just a fit, like the Stanwells.Does anyone know that kid? " Ben and Beverly shook their heads.Eddie said, "The one with the epilepsy?"

"Yeah, that's right. Like that bad. I'd rather that than see the... real stuff." "What is it?" Beverly asked.But she didn't know if she really wanted to know.It's not like listening to ghost stories around a yellow fire while eating delicious food.They were sitting on the hard chairs in the laundry room now, and she could see the dirt under the washing machine, and she could see the dust dancing in the sunlight filtering in through the dirty glass, and she could see the old magazines with their covers torn off . Everything is normal, normal and tedious.But she was terrified, very, very terrified.Because, she felt, none of these stories were made up; nor were the monsters made up: the mummy that Ben met, the leper that Eddie met...they could all come out after the sun went down.Or there's Bill's younger brother, with one arm left and eyes of silver coins, wandering the dark sewers below the city.

Stanley didn't answer right away.Beverly asked again: "What is it?" Stanley began to speak cautiously. "I went to the little park where the water tower is—" "Oh God. I don't like that place," Eddie interjected. "If there's a house in Derry that's haunted, it's there." "What?" Stanley's voice sharpened. "What did you say?" "Don't you know that place?" Eddie said. "My mother kept me out of there until the kids were killed. She... she took good care of me." He forced a smile, gripping the asthma spray even tighter. "You know, some kids got drowned there. Three or four. They—Stanley? Stanley, are you all right?"

Stanley's face turned leaden.His mouth was moving, but there was no sound.Both eyes are rolling upwards.One hand was lifted limply in the air and fell to his lap. Eddie remembered the only thing he could do.He leaned over, put one arm around Stanley Choi's shoulder, put the asthma spray into Stanley's mouth with the other hand, and sprayed it hard. Stanley began coughing, choking, and gagging.He sat up straight, his eyes returned to normal, and he coughed into a teacup shape with his hands.Finally he hiccupped and slumped back in his chair. "What's that?" he asked struggling.

"My asthma medicine," Eddie said apologetically. "God, it's like shit." They all laughed, but it was uneasy laughter.The rest of the people looked at Stanley nervously, and now there was some blood on his face. Stanley's laughter faltered.He looked at Eddie and said, "Tell me about the water tower." Eddie spoke.Ben and Beverly added a few words here and there.The Derry Water Tower is on Kansas Avenue, about a mile and a half west of downtown, just south of Banron.At one time, towards the end of the last century, it contained 1.75 million gallons of water and was responsible for the entire water supply of Derry.It is topped by an open-air circular storey, from which one can enjoy views across the town and surrounding countryside.When the weather is fine on Saturday or Sunday, people often take their families to the Memorial Park to visit, stepping on the 160 stairs of the water tower to the reception, enjoying the beautiful scenery of Delhi.Sightseeing at the top of the water tower was popular until around 1930.

The stairs are in the middle mezzanine of the water tower.The exterior of the water tower is painted white; the interior is a 160-foot-tall stainless steel column.The stairs spiral around the column and go straight to the top of the water tower. Just a little lower on the top floor of the water tower, there is a thick wooden door.Go through that door and you're on a small platform.That platform is just above the water.When filled with water, the water is a hundred feet deep. "Where did all that water come from?" asked Benth. The three of Beverly, Eddie, and Stanley looked at each other, and no one knew.

"Well, what about those drowned children?" They also only know a little.It seems that during that period, the wooden door to the platform was always left unlocked.One night, a bunch of kids...or maybe just one...or maybe 3... It was found that the gate of the water tower was not locked.So they boldly went up, but they went to the wrong door.It was not the door to the garret they entered, but the door to the terrace, and in the darkness they all fell into the water. "I heard it from a kid named Vicky Crumley. He said that was what his dad told him," Beverly said. "Maybe it's true. Vicky said his daddy told him the kids fell into the water and died because there was nothing to pick around. The platform was out of reach. He said they just struggled there." , calling for help, all night perhaps. But no one heard; and they just grew weary until—” Her voice trailed off, feeling fear seeping through her.She seemed to see those children struggling in the water, floating up for a while, sinking for a while... screaming horribly... fingers holding the smooth well wall in vain.It seemed to her that she tasted the cold water they swallowed; the wailing wailing echoed in her ears.how long? 15 minutes?half an hour?How long did it take for them to stop struggling and float face down, like dead fish, waiting for the janitor to find their bodies the next day? "God!" Stanley exclaimed. "I heard about a woman who lost her baby there too," Eddie cut in suddenly. "That's why they shut down the water tower. At least, that's what I heard with my own ears. They don't let people go up. But once, a lady and her baby came up on the platform. I don't know how old the kid was. The lady walked to the railing with the child in her arms. Maybe she threw the child down, or maybe the child twisted and fell by itself. I heard the man say that he wanted to save someone. He jumped down, but the child It's gone. Maybe the kid was wearing a jacket or something. If it gets wet, it's easy to sink." Eddie suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown glass bottle. He opened the cap, poured out two white pills, and swallowed them dryly. "What's that?" Beverly asked. "Aspirin. I have a headache." He looked at her defensively, but Beverly said nothing more. Ben finished the rest of the story.He heard that it was indeed a child, a little girl about three years old.Since that incident, the town council has voted to close the water tower permanently, locking all doors above and below.Until now, those doors are locked tightly, and only the janitor and maintenance personnel can enter and exit.But it's still open to visitors once a season; people go up to the top floor with a guide -- a lady from the Historical Society -- and they can shout and take pictures for their friends.But the door to the inner platform remained locked. "Is there still water in there?" Stanley asked. "I think so," Ben replied. "I've seen firetrucks pump water out of there. They put a hose on the pipe under the water tower." Stanley fell silent.His gaze returned to the dryer, watching the rags turn and turn. "What did you see there?" Beverly asked Stanley softly. For a moment, it seemed he didn't want to answer at all.Then he took a long breath and spoke.But it feels like he's completely off topic: "They named the park Memorial Park in honor of the Civil War. They called it 'Derry Blues.' There used to be a statue, but it was blown down by a storm in the 40's .They didn’t have the money to restore the statue, so they built a chicken paddling pool in there—a giant bird paddling pool made of stone.” All eyes were on Stanley, who swallowed and made a gurgling sound in his throat. "I do bird watching. I have a bird information book and a telescope and everything you need for bird watching." He turned to look at Eddie. "Do you have any aspirin?" Eddie handed him the bottle.Stanley took two first, then hesitated, and took another.He handed the bottle back to Eddie, swallowed the pills one by one with a contorted face, and went on with his story. The story happened on a rainy night two months ago.Stanley put on his raincoat, put the bird information booklet and binoculars in a waterproof bag, and headed for Memorial Park.He used to go with his father, but his father happened to be working overtime that night, so he had to go alone. A birding fan told of seeing a cardinal drinking from a pool in Memorial Park.They like to eat, drink and bathe at dusk.Spotting a cardinal from so far away from Massachusetts is a rarity.Despite the bad weather, he walked the mile and a half to Memorial Park.The drizzle didn't seem to be dripping, but more like a curtain of fog hanging down.It's quiet all around, but at the same time it makes people feel a little excited.Although there is still unmelted snow on the bushes and branches, there is still a fresh earthy smell in the air.Against the leaden sky, the thick silhouettes of the big trees look a little mysterious; in a week or two, they will spit out new green. The air smells green tonight.He thought about it and smiled. Stanley picked up the pace.Otherwise, the light will soon be insufficient.He cuts diagonally across the park.The water tower is on his left, showing a huge white body.Stanley didn't even look at it.He had no interest in what was inside the water tower. The almost rectangular memorial park is built along the mountain.In summer, the grass here is neatly cut, and there are round flower beds.It's usually adults who come here. The bird paddling pool was actually built on top of the base of the statue, which seemed a bit overkill.His father told him that they originally planned to put the statue back, but they gave up because they had no money. "I prefer the bird pool," Stanley said. Mr Uris scratched his hair. "Me too, son," he said. "More pools, less bullets. That's my motto." On the stone base was an inscription, written in Latin, which Stanley did not know what it meant. Apparebateldolonsenex—Prince Stanley sat down on a bench, took out his bird booklet, turned to the cardinal page, reviewed its characteristics, closed the book again, and put it back in his bag.Then he took out the binoculars and put them on his eyes - there was no need to adjust the focus anymore, he was sitting in the same place to observe last time. He looked at the small pool without moving.First, four sparrows played there for a while, and then a blue-backed bird flew in, chattering, and drove the sparrows away.The bird occupied the pool, played for a while, and then flew away.Then the sparrows came back and had to fly away again - a pair of robins came down to take a bath and chattered as if discussing something.Then a red bird flew over.Stanley hastily adjusted the focus of the telescope, and it turned out to be a tanager.Then came a woodpecker that he was very familiar with. He looked and watched and saw the birds fly and fly.He saw a clumsy pulsatilla, a bluebird, and a woodpecker.It was getting dark quickly.At this time, he seemed to see a starling.He quickly put down the binoculars and took out the information booklet, hoping that the bird would not fly away before he confirmed it.At least he could go home and tell his father something.After checking the book, he picked up the binoculars again.It was still there, not taking a shower, standing motionless on the edge of the floor, he was almost sure.He put down the binoculars, frowned, read the book carefully again, and picked up the binoculars again.But at this moment, there was a sudden "pong" sound, and the bird—probably the starling—was startled flying.He still followed the bird with some hope, but it had flown out of sight. He cursed softly, put away the binoculars and information booklet, then stood up and looked around, trying to see where the loud noise came from.The sound didn't sound like a gunshot, but more like a castle or dungeon door being slammed open in a horror movie...with some echoes. He saw nothing. He headed up the ramp to Kansas Avenue.The white water tower to his right was a ghost in the rain, mist, and falling darkness, seeming to...float. He looked at the water tower carefully again, and then turned in that direction without thinking.There are windows along the spiral staircase around the water tower, against the white tower body, and each black window is like an eye.But he was drawn to a window at the foot of the water tower—a larger rectangular window. He paused, frowning, thinking how funny it would be to have a window on the ground, not at all symmetrical to the others.Then he realized it wasn't a window, but a door. "The sound I heard," he thought, "is the sound of the door opening." He looked around, the sky had turned gray, the rain and fog made the sky look darker, and there was no wind at all. But how did the door open?Why?Only a very thick door can make such a loud sound.Must be a giant...could be... Stanley was very curious and took a few steps forward. The door was bigger than he had imagined, 6 feet high and 2 inches thick.The door panel is also covered with copper hoops.Stanley opened the door—effortless and silent.With such a loud noise, he thought the door must be broken.However, not only was the door undamaged, but even a trace of damage could not be seen. Well, not the loud bang from this door.he thinks.Maybe a plane flew over it. The door opened—his foot hit something.He looked down and saw that it was a lock... the remnants of a lock, to be exact.It was as if someone had fired a shot through the keyhole, and the lock had cracked, and there were other parts scattered on the ground not far away. Stanley frowned, opened the door again, and looked inside. The narrow staircase spirals upwards, out of sight. "Is anyone there?" he asked. No one answered. He hesitated, then walked inside, wanting to see what was above the stairs. nothing. He turned to leave... He heard music. The voice was very faint, but he could hear it immediately. organ music. He listened attentively, and his frown eased a lot.organ music.Music at carnivals and fairs.It immediately awakened Stanley's fond memories: popcorn, cotton candy, Doughman, Mickey Mouse, and the circus. Stanley wanted to laugh.He went up one flight of stairs, then two more, his head still on one side.He stopped again.As if the carnival was going on, he could smell all kinds of smells: popcorn, cotton candy, doughnuts... and more!Pepper, hot dogs, smoke and sawdust.There's also the smell of white vinegar, the kind you put on potato chips.He could also smell mustard, the pungent yellow powder sprinkled on hot dogs. It's all so magical...unbelievable...and irresistible. He took a step up, and at this moment he heard the sound of "shua shua shua" fast footsteps from above, as if someone was coming down.He listened carefully again, and the sound of the organ suddenly became louder, as if to cover up the footsteps. Footsteps, yes; but it's not exactly a "swipe" sound, but it sounds a little sticky, like someone walking in water in rubber shoes. A huge shadow flashed on the wall above him. Horror jumped into Stanley's throat all at once--like swallowing something hot and terrible, like some poison running through him like an electric current. Stanley glanced and saw that there were two huge things above that seemed to be sliding down; he only glanced because the light was fading, fading too fast.Just as he was about to turn around, the heavy door of the water tower slammed shut. Stanley hurried down (there were more than a dozen flights of stairs, although he remembered only climbing two or three at most).He is very scared.It was too dark inside the water tower to see anything.He could hear his own breathing; he could hear the organ getting softer; he could hear the shuffling footsteps approaching him, getting closer. Stanley opened his hands and slammed on the door forcefully. His hands hurt from the impact, but the door didn't move at all...it could be opened so easily just now... No...it's not true.The door suddenly opened a small crack, but disappeared immediately - as if someone was pushing it from the outside. Panting heavily, Stanley pushed the door frantically with all his strength.But he felt the brass hoop sink into his palm, and the door remained motionless. He turned around abruptly, leaning his back against the door, grasping it tightly with both hands.Beads of sweat kept rolling down his forehead.The organ sound grew louder again, and the sound floated down from the stairs and echoed everywhere, but there was nothing unpleasant about it.It has become an elegy, piercing and piercing.Stanley seemed to have seen a fair swept by an autumn storm ruthlessly, with howling winds and torrential rain, destroying everything in pieces.He suddenly understood that death was approaching him from the darkness, and he had no way to escape. Suddenly the water rushed down from the top of the stairs.Now the smell of popcorn, doughnuts, and cotton candy is completely gone, and now there is a choking stench like dead pork. "Who is it?" Stanley's voice was trembling and sharp. The voice that answered him seemed choked with water and mud, as if bubbling: "Dead. Stanley. We're dead. We've sunk, but now we're floating...and you'll be too." Stanley felt the water wash up to his feet.He leaned back against the door in horror. They were so close, he could feel them and he could smell them.He kept -- banging backward against the door in vain, something hurting his hip. "We die, but sometimes we're clowns, Stanley. Sometimes we—" It was his bird booklet. Without thinking, Stanley pulled the booklet out of his raincoat pocket.He heard one of them approaching, about to catch him! He roared with all his strength, opened his information booklet, and blocked it like a shield in front of his chest. He didn't think about what he was doing, but he was suddenly convinced that what he was doing was right. "Mockingbird!" he screamed in the dark.For an instant, the thing approaching him hesitated - Stanley was almost certain.Also, the gate behind him seemed to recede. But he didn't flinch now, he stood up straight in the dark, what happened?No time to think at all.Stanley licked his chapped lips and kept calling, "Mockingbird! Gray Heron! Loon! Tanager! Pulsatilla! Ironhead Woodpecker! Redhead Woodpecker! Titmouse! Pelican—" The door slammed open with a loud creak.Stanley took a big step backward and rolled out on his back.The hard-covered bird booklet was warped out of shape.That night, he saw his finger prints deeply embedded in the cover of the information booklet. Instead of standing up, he pushed his body back on his heels and hands.In the rectangular door opening, he vaguely saw four legs standing under the shadow of the door, water kept flowing from the faded black trousers, the orange line on the seam of the trousers was clearly visible, and most of the shoes were rotten , revealing the swollen purple toe inside. And their hands, hanging down their sides, were so long and white as wax, with an orange pom-pom on each finger. Stanley's face was covered with water, and he couldn't tell whether it was rain, sweat or tears.He put the bird information booklet in front of his chest, and kept chanting: "Eagle... wax-billed bird... hummingbird... albatross... kiwi..." One of the hands was raised, revealing a rotting palm; one finger bent back... straightened again.The pompom on top jumped up and drooped down, drooped down and jumped up again. It's calling him! Stanley would die in the tub 27 years later from a severed artery.Uris stood up scrambling and ran.He ran across Kansas Avenue without stopping, looking back only at the end of the sidewalk, panting. From that angle he couldn't see the gate of the water tower, only the huge water tower stood in the dark. "They're all dead." He murmured, and retreated to the house again. The dryer stopped, and Stanley finished speaking. The three of Beverly just looked at him blankly.His skin had turned almost gray, like that April night he had just described. "Wow!" Ben finally exclaimed, and he let out a long breath. "That's true," Stanley whispered. "I swear to God." "I believe in you," Beverly said, "after what happened at home, I believe in everything." After finishing speaking, she stood up suddenly and almost fell down.Then she went to the dryer and took out the rags one by one and folded them.With her back toward the three of them, Benth suspected she was crying.He wanted to go over to comfort him, but he lacked the courage. "We gotta talk to Bill," Eddie said. "Bill knows what to do." "Do?" Stanley turned his head. "What do you mean? Do?" Eddie looked at him uneasily and said, "Um..." "I don't want to do anything," Stanley said.His eyes were piercing, fixed on Eddie; Eddie squirmed awkwardly in his chair. "I'm going to forget about it. That's what I'm going to do." "It's not that easy." Beverly finished speaking quietly and turned around.Ben was right in his suspicions: the sunlight streaming in through the dirty glass of the laundry room reflected two bright tear streaks on her cheeks. "It's not just us. I heard Veronica Grogan's voice, and the kid I heard earlier...I think it might be the kid named Clemens, from the tricycle The one that fell." "So what?" Stanley seemed a little unconvinced. "What if it catches more?" Beverly was calm. "What if it gets more kids?" Stanley's eyes were still fixed on Beverly's, as if to say, "So what?" But Beverly's eyes were so determined that Stanley had to look down... maybe just because she was still crying, or just because her attention made her look so strong. "Eddie's right," she said, "we've got to talk to Bill. And then maybe the chief of police—" "Okay," Stanley said in a weary voice, "dead children in the water tower. Blood that only children can see. Clowns walking on the canal. Balloons flying in the wind. Mummies. Lepers under the porch. Commissioner Burton Will laugh out loud...and drive us into a lunatic asylum." "If we all go to him," Ben said hesitantly, "if we go to the police station to find him..." "Okay, all right. Tell me more, Haystack. Write me a book," said Stanley, standing up and going to the window.With his hands in his trouser pockets, he looked angry and frustrated and terrified.He straightened his shoulders, stared out for a moment, and repeated: "Write me a hateful book!" "No," said Ben quietly, "Bill would have written those books." Stanley turned around abruptly, surprised, and the rest of the group looked at him too.Ben's face was also full of surprise, as if he had slapped himself suddenly. Beverly folded the last rag. "Bird," Eddie said. "What?" Beverly and Ben asked in unison. Eddie looked at Stanley. "Did you really call them the birds' names?" "Perhaps," said Stanley reluctantly, "or perhaps the door was knocked open." "Without you leaning on it?" Beverly asked. Stanley shrugged, simply indicating that he didn't know. "I think it's because you named the birds," Eddie said, "but why? In the movie, you have to take a cross..." "...or say the Lord's Prayer..." Ben added. "Or Psalm Twenty-Three," interjected Beverly. "I know Psalm Twenty-Third," Stanley said angrily, "but I don't want to get a cross. I'm a Jew, remember?" They all looked embarrassed and looked elsewhere. "Bird," Eddie said again, "God!" He looked at Stanley with guilt. Stanley just looked sullenly at Bangor Hydro across the street. "Bill knows what to do," said Ben suddenly, as if he finally agreed with Eddie and Beverly. "I'll bet it. Bet anything." "Look," Stanley said, looking eagerly at them all, "OK. We can talk to Bill if you want. But that's all for me. You call me a coward, whatever. I don't care. I don't think I'm a coward, it's just those things in the water tower..." "If you're not scared, you must be crazy. Stanley." Beverly's voice was gentle. "Yes, I was freaked out, but that's not the point." Stanley was getting more and more excited. "That's not even what I'm talking about. Don't you understand—" Everyone looked at him hopefully.But Stanley found himself unable to explain his feelings, and his words had run dry.There was a feeling in his heart that almost suffocated him, but he couldn't talk it out.As lean as he is, as old as he is, he's still an 11-year-old kid who just finished fourth grade. He wanted to tell them that there was a feeling worse than being afraid.Going through a close-by car accident, waiting for a shot, being on the verge of death and all that sort of thing can be pretty scary. But those things in the water tower... What he was trying to say was that the dead children in the water tower stumbling and slumping down the spiral staircase had done something worse than frighten him: they had offended him. Offended, yes.It was the only word he could think of.They would all laugh if he said it--even though he knew they liked him and accepted him, they would still laugh.Stanley would say this if possible: You can live with fear, maybe not forever, but for a long, long time.But you cannot take offense because it opens a big hole in your mind.You can go to church and hear the story of Jesus walking on water; but if I see someone doing that, I'll keep yelling, yelling, yelling.Because to me that's not a miracle, that's an offense. But Stanley couldn't say these things.He just kept repeating: "Fear isn't the point. I just don't want to get involved in that stuff." "Will you at least come with us and talk to Bill?" Beverly begged. "Listen to what he has to say?" "Of course." Stanley finished, and then laughed. "Maybe I should take my bird book." Everyone laughed. 12 Outside the laundry room, Beverly said goodbye to everyone and went home with a rag. The apartment was still quiet.She put the rag under the kitchen sink, stood up, and looked toward the bathroom. "I'm not going there," she thought, "I'm going to watch TV." So she went into the living room, turned on the TV, and turned it off five minutes later—the TV show was a demonstration of a make-up pad, and it was boring. She went to the kitchen again, took her father's tape measure from the cabinet above the sink, and went into the bathroom. It was clean and very quiet inside.Dimly, what seemed to be a long way off, she heard Mrs. Doyoung calling her son Jim to get off the road. She went to the washbasin and looked towards the drain. She stood there for a while, her whole body was terribly cold. But no sound came out. With a shuddering sigh, she slid the steel tape of the measuring tape into the drain.Easy to play - like those knife-swallowing entertainers at a fair. 6 inches, 8 inches, 10 inches.It stopped, perhaps hitting the bend in the sewer.She twisted the tape measure while nudging the steel strip, and it advanced again. 16 inches, then another two inches, then another three inches. She seemed to see the yellow steel band slowly threading its way through the dark pipe, meeting the dung and sticking with the dirt, and entering a place where the sun never shines—it is always night. "What are you doing?" There seemed to be a voice in her head asking, but she didn't bother.She seemed to see the head of the steel belt stretching downwards, into the cellar, and hit the sewage pipe... The steel belt bounced, as if it hit something. She twisted the tape again, and the steel band made a slight, odd sound. Now, she seemed to see that the tip of the tape had snaked into a larger water pipe...and she was able to push down again. Another 6 inches, 7 inches, 9 inches—all of a sudden! The tape measure moved by itself in her hand, and she seemed to be pulled by something underneath. Not just pulling!Instead, pull and run!She stared at the flying steel belt, her eyes were wide open, she was extremely frightened!But—she wasn't surprised.Doesn't she know?Didn't she know something like this could happen? The tape measure had run out and stopped, a full 6 yards. Cheating laughter came from the sewer.伴随着笑声的是低低的几乎是在责备的声音：“贝弗莉，贝弗莉，贝弗莉……你不能和我们战斗……如果你敢的话你会死的……你会死的……你会死的……贝弗莉……贝弗莉……莉……莉……莉……” 卷尺的小拿子咋嗓响了一声，然后钢带开始迅速地回来，上面的标记都变得模糊不清了。在到头的时候——也就是最后的五六英寸——黄色变成了发暗的正在滴落的红色！ 贝弗莉尖叫了一声，一下把卷尺扔到了地上，好像它突然变成一条扭动着的活蛇。 鲜血沿着洗脸盆的磁面流下去，又流进了下水口里。贝弗莉抽泣着弯下腰去，又捡起了卷尺。她用右手的拇指和食指捏住了钢条，举着它走进了厨房。鲜血不住地滴落在走道和厨房的油毡上。 贝弗莉尽量让自己去想父亲会怎么说——他会怎么做——如果他发现她把卷尺弄得血淋淋的。当然他是不会看见上面的血迹的，但是那样想能对贝弗莉稍微有点帮助。 她拿出了一块干净的抹布——仍旧温暖得像刚刚烤熟的面包——又走进了洗手间。她先闭上眼睛用皮塞子塞住了下水口，然后开始清洗。鲜血还没干，很好清洗。她擦去了所有的血污，漂洗了一下抹布，攥干以后放在了一边。'然后她又拿出一块抹布来，擦拭她父亲的卷尺。钢带上的鲜血又稠又粘，有两处还粘着黑乎乎的血块。 尽管鲜血只法污了五六英寸钢带，贝弗莉还是把整个卷尺都清洁了一遍，然后放回橱柜里。然后她拿着两块肮脏的抹布从公寓后面走了出去。道阳夫人又朝吉姆喊叫了，她的声音非常清楚，简直就像钟声一样回荡在依然炎热的下午。 后院里，到处都是垃圾、野草和破布条，还有一条生锈的焚烧炉。贝弗莉把抹布扔进炉子里，然后走到一级台阶上坐了下来。泪水突然之间汹涌而出，这次她再也控制不住了。 她用胳膊搂住膝盖，头枕在胳膊上面，不停地哭着。道阳夫人又在叫喊了：吉姆，你是不是想被汽车撞死？ 德里：插曲之一1985年2月14日情人节过去一周以来，又多了两桩失踪案——都是孩子，就在我刚刚开始放松的时候。其中之一是一个16岁的男孩子名叫丹尼斯·多里奥；另外的一个是一个只有5岁的女孩，是在西百老汇区她家的院子后面滑雪橇的时候失踪的。她那已经陷于疯狂的母亲只找到了她的雪橇。 事件发生的前天晚上刚下过一场雪——4英寸左右厚。当我打电话给里德马赫警长，他说雪地上只有她留下的痕迹，没有别的。我想他现在对我已经颁透了。晚上我没有再失眠；我有比那更重要的事情要做，是不是？ 当我问他是否能看看警察局的照片时，他拒绝了。 当我问到是否那个小女孩的痕迹通向任何下水道或者排水沟时，紧接着的是长时间的沉默。然后里德马赫说：“我想知道是否你该去看看医生，麦克·汉伦？精神病专科的。那个孩子是被她父亲掳走的，难道你没看报纸吗？” “那个叫多里奥的男孩也是被他自己的父亲掳走的吗？”我问。 又是长时间的沉默。 “别管这些事情了，汉伦。”他说道，“让我歇会儿吧。”