Chapter 19 Chapter Ten Reunion 2

5 Mike took all those photos back.He thought Bill would ask for George's photo, but Bill didn't say anything.He puts the photo in the inside pocket of his jacket, and everyone - including Mike - breathes a sigh of relief. "Nine kids," Beverly said softly, "I don't believe it. I mean... I can believe it, but I can't believe it. Nine kids dead and no response? No response?" "It's not that there's been no reaction," Mike said. "People are angry, they're terrified ... it's like that. It's hard to tell who's genuine and who's just pretending."

"Just pretend?" "Beverly, do you remember? When we were little, you yelled for help to that man, but he folded the newspaper and turned around and entered the house." For a moment, something seemed to appear in front of her eyes.She seemed to feel it, she was terrified, and then she looked confused again. "Can't remember... when was that, Mike?" "That's all right. Sooner or later you'll remember. All I can say now is that everything seems to be the Derry way. Faced with a string of horrific murders, people have taken various actions. Like the case of children who disappeared and were killed in 1958." It's the same time, and people are doing the same things.

"Another meeting of the Save Our Children committee; another curfew-" "Oh yes. Curfew." Ben rubbed his neck slowly, thinking back. "In 1958, the curfew had an extraordinary effect. I remember it well." "- 'Mum Escorts' are at work again ensuring all children from Kindergarten to Year 8 are safely escorted home. The Delhi News has received more than 2000 letters in the last 3 weeks urging this matter to be resolved quickly. Of course, Others moved out. Sometimes I feel like that's the only way to tell who really wants this nightmare to end. Those who really move get scared and leave here."

"People really moved?" Richie asked. "Every time the cycle comes, people move out. It's hard to tell how many people move out. A lot anyway.They are like children who find out that a house is actually haunted and move out immediately. " "Go home, go home, go home." Beverly muttered softly.She looked up and met Bill's gaze. "It wants us back. Why?" "It might want us all back," Mike said meaningfully. "It must be. It might, it might want revenge. After all, we've thwarted its purpose." "Revenge . . . or putting things back in order," Bill said.

Mike nodded. "You should know that your lives have been turned upside down. None of you left Derry unscathed...without its marks on yourselves. You have all forgotten what happened here, and your memories of that summer are still fragmented .And there's a very odd fact: you're all rich." "Oh, forget it!" Richie said. "It's not at all—" "Don't get excited, don't get excited," Mike held up his hands and smiled slightly, "I'm not accusing you, I just want to show the facts. Compared with a small town librarian who only earns $11,000 a year after taxes, you A rich man indeed. Isn't he?"

Rich shrugged awkwardly.Benth tore the lace of the tissue.Nobody looked at Mike except Bill. "Of course none of you are billionaires," Mike said, "but you're pretty rich by upper-middle-class standards. It's full of friends. Let's be honest: Who made less than $9 after taxes in 1984 please Hands up." Everyone secretly glanced at each other, extremely embarrassed.Bill felt his cheeks heat up. How much income did he declare on his tax returns in 1984?About $800,000, right? Compared with Mike's meager income of $11,000, it is indeed a lot.That's all they pay you to look after the lighthouse, Bill thought.God, you should have asked them for a raise in the middle.

Mike said: "In a society where novelists are rare, and there are even fewer novelists who are lucky enough to make a lot of money by climbing the grid, Bill Dunbon became a very successful novelist. Beverly Marsh in a In a business where only a handful of people can stand out, they become the hottest fashion designers in the country." "Oh, it's not me." Beverly smiled nervously, and lit another cigarette with the remaining butt. "It's Tom. Without him, I'm still trimming skirts and pinning trousers. It's Tom. And luck." "I think the lady is justifying herself," Richie said playfully.

Beverly turned around sharply and gave him a hard look, her cheeks flushed. "What do you mean, Richie?" "Don't hit me, Miss Scarlett!" Richie screamed like the little nigger in a trembling voice—at that moment, Bill seemed to see the little boy he knew before very clearly; Then there was Richie who had been replaced under the adult body, but a life much more real than the man in front of him. "You're so unreasonable, Richie," Beverly said coldly. "You should be more mature." Rich looked at her, his smile slowly turning into suspicion. "Before I got here," he said, "I thought I was grown up."

"Ricky, you're probably the most successful disc jockey in California," Mike continued. "You'd better be careful what you say, idiot," Richie said fiercely, "or I'll beat you out of the way. Blow your brains out. Make—" "Eddie," Mike continued, setting Richie aside. "You run a thriving limo business. In New York, two limo companies go out of business every week, and you're doing fine." "Ben, you may be the youngest and most promising architect in the world." Ben opened his mouth, probably wanting to tell, but stopped suddenly.

Mike smiled and spread his hands. "I don't mean to embarrass you, but I do want to tell the truth. Some people are young and promising, and some people are very successful in a particular profession-if no one takes the opportunity to succeed , then I don't think any of you will pursue it. If there's only one or two of you, we'll consider it a complete coincidence. But it's not one, two; it's all, including Stanley, the most accomplished accountant in Atlanta …My conclusion is that your success is closely related to what happened here 27 years ago. Does anyone disagree with me?"

He looked at everyone, but no one answered. "Everybody but you," Bill said. "What happened to you, Mike?" "Isn't that obvious?" He smiled. "I stayed here." "You keep the lighthouse," Ben said.Bill turned sharply and looked at him in surprise.But Bens stared at Mike seriously. "That made me feel bad, Mike. Made me feel dirty, in fact." Mike shook his head patiently. "You have nothing to feel guilty about, all of you. Do you think it was my choice to stay here, as you - all of them - left Derry?God, we're all kids.For various reasons, your parents left here, and you are just part of their bag.And my parents stay here.Was that really their - any of them - decision?I do not think so.How can you decide who will stay?Is it luck?destiny?it?other reasons?I have no idea.But that's not our decision.So no need to talk about this anymore. " "Don't you feel... resentment?" Eddie asked timidly. "I'm too busy to hold grudges," Mike said. "I spend a lot of time watching, waiting...before I even realize what I'm doing. But for the past five years I've been It's all hyper alert. I've been journaling since the beginning of the year. When one writes, one thinks deeper... more specifically. One of the things I write and think about is its essence. We know, it There's been a change. I feel like it's manipulating everything and leaving its mark on people." Mike slowly unbuttoned his shirt and opened his shirt.There was a pink scar on his smooth brown skin. "Like scars from claws," he said. "Werewolves." Richie groaned in pain. "Oh, my God, Bill, it's a werewolf! When we go to Nebert Street!" "What?" Bill asked, as if shouting in a dream. "What, Richie?" "Don't you remember?" "Don't remember...you?" "I... I almost remembered..." Richie sat down, looking confused and terrified. "Are you saying these things aren't evil?" Eddie asked Mike suddenly, staring at the scar in a daze. "Just a . . . part of the laws of nature." "Not part of what we normally call the laws of nature," said Mike, buttoning up his shirt, "and I don't see any reason to understand it in terms of any other principle than this one we all know: it kills people, Killing children, that's immoral. Bill knew that before we all did. Remember, Bill?" "I remember wanting to kill it," Bill said. "But I don't have such a deep sense of salvation. I want to kill it because it killed George." "Do you still want to kill it?" Bill considered it seriously.He looked down at his hands spread out on the table, and remembered that George was wearing a yellow raincoat with the hood up, and was holding a paper boat thinly coated with paraffin. He looked up at Mike. "I think more than, than, than before," he said. Mike nodded, as if that was the answer he was expecting. "It made its mark on us, and fulfilled its will on us. Just as it fulfilled its will on this town. Day by day, even if it was sleeping or hibernating or whatever it was between the two active periods. when doing something." "But if it gets its way in us, at some point, in a certain way, we get ours in it. We stop it before it gets its way - I know we Did it. We weakened it? Wounded it? In fact, we almost killed it, I think so.I think we almost killed it, only to actually think it was dead when we left. " "But you can't remember that episode either, can you?" Ben asked. "Yes. I can recall everything that happened up until August 15th. But from that day to September 4th, everything is blank. Not blurred, but completely gone. Except for a Thing: I seem to remember Bill yelling something called 'death ray'." Bill's arm twitched violently, knocking a glass to the ground and shattering it. "Are you hurt?" Beverly stood up. "No." Bill's voice was rough and harsh, and goose bumps appeared on his arms.It was as if his skull was expanding; he could feel the (dead light) throbbing of the numb skull against the tightening skin. "I pack up—" "No, sit down." He wanted to look at her, but couldn't.He couldn't take his eyes off Mike. "Do you remember 'Death Ray,' Bill?" Mike asked him softly. "No." "You'll remember." "I hope never to think about it." "You'll always remember," Mike said. "But now... no. I can't remember either. How about you?" Everyone shook their heads one by one. "But what have we done," Mike said quietly. "At some point we exercised our collective will. We came to a special consensus, conscious or not." He shifted uneasily. "God, I wish Stanley was there. I think with Stanley's organized mind, he might be able to remember." "Maybe he could," Beverly said, "and that's why he killed himself. Maybe he knew that if there were magic, it wouldn't work on adults." "I think it will work," Mike said, "because the six of us have one thing in common. I wonder if you realize it?" Bill was about to open his mouth, but fell silent again. "Tell me," Mike encouraged him, "you know what it is. You can see it on your face." "I'm not sure," Bill replied, "but I don't think I, we have any kids. Is this, this?" Everyone was speechless in shock. "Yes," Mike said, "exactly that." "God Almighty!" Eddie said angrily. "What does that have to do with everything that happened? Who says everyone in the world has to have kids?What a madman! " "So do you and your wife have children?" "If you've been watching us closely, as you say, you should be very aware that we don't have children. But I'd say that doesn't really mean anything." "Have you tried having children?" "We don't have contraception, if that's what you mean." There was an ineffable, moving dignity in Eddie's voice.But his face was still red. "The truth is my wife is a bit... oh shit. She's too fat. We've seen the doctor and she told us that if my wife doesn't lose weight, we'll never have kids. Are we guilty?" "Don't get excited, Ezz." Richie leaned over to comfort him. "Don't call me Etz, don't pinch my face!" He shook off Rich's hand. "You know I hate that! I've always hated that!" Richie retracted and winked at everyone. "Beverly?" Mike asked again. "What about you and Tom?" "No kids," she said, "and no contraception. Tom wants kids . . . of course I want kids. But not yet." "Checked?" Ben asked. "Oh, of course." She finished with a small smile. "What about you and your wife, Bill?" Richie asked. "Have you been working hard?" Everyone looked at him curiously, after all, his wife was someone everyone knew.While she's not the most famous and popular actress in the world today, she's sort of a celebrity. "We've been working on it for the past six years," Bill said. "We've been shooting a movie called Penthouse for the last eight months, so we gave up." "Checked?" Ben asked. "Ummmmm. 4 years ago. In New York. We both had children." Eddie was still stubbornly sticking to his point of view. "That means nothing at all." "But food for thought," Ben whispered. "You're all right there, Ben?" Bill asked. "I'm not married yet, and I've been very careful. So far no one has sued me and recognized me as a father." Ben said. "Other than that, I don't think there's any way of knowing for sure." "Would you like to hear a funny story?" Richie asked.He smiled, but there was no smile in his eyes. "Of course," Bill said, "you're the best joker, Richie." "Your eyelids are like my ass, boy." Richie suddenly changed his Irish police accent. That was the voice of a great Irish policeman.Not a small improvement, Rich, Bill thought.When you were young, no matter how you practiced, you didn't learn it well.Only once...maybe twice...when... (death ray) Is that it? "Your face is like my ass, remember the metaphor." Suddenly Ben pinched his nose, his voice trembling, and yelled loudly like a child: "Wow, Ricky! Whoa! Whoa!" After a while, Eddie laughed too, and joined in holding his nose.Beverly also joined in. "It's done! It's done!" Richie yelled, laughing. "Okay! I surrender! For God's sake." "Oh, my God." Eddie collapsed on the chair, laughing until he was on the verge of tears. "We won last time, too, Bitch. Come on, Ben." Ben smiled, a little puzzled. "Wow." Beverly said, giggling. "I forgot about that. We used to boo you like that, Richie." "You people never appreciate real genius," Rich said triumphantly.Just like in the past, you can knock him down, but he will stand up immediately like a tumbler. "That's your contribution to the Losers' Club, Ben." "Yes, I think so." "What a man!" Richie said in a trembling voice, pretending to be terrified, and began his religious salute again.Every time I lower my head, the tip of my nose almost touches the teacup. "What a man! Oh God, what a man!" "Wow, Richie." Ben looked very serious, and then laughed happily, not at all like the original submissive child. "You're still the old Roadrunner." "Do you guys want to hear my story?" Richie asked. "You can't make fun of me, you still want to hear the story. Or 'bow' down. I let everyone make fun. In front of you is a famous DJ." "Come on," Bill said.He glanced at Mike and saw the look of joy on his face—relaxed.Is it because he sees everyone unknowingly merged together again, so easily playing the role of the past again?Bill thought so.He thought that if the prerequisites for the use of magic were belief in its existence, then those prerequisites must inevitably be arranged.The thought was unsettling, like being strapped to a missile head. "Oh." Richie said. "I met a girl after I moved to California. We loved each other like crazy. We talked about kids a lot and decided we didn't want kids even when we were officially married. Shit, we were all too Young, too romantic. I ended up being sterilized." Everyone laughed.Bill finds it inconceivable that they were talking about the murdered child 10 minutes ago. "Come on, Rich," Ben urged, "it's getting late." "We lived together for two and a half years," continued Richie, "and almost got married twice. What happened? She got a job with a legal firm in Washington. I got a job in California." Doing a show job on the weekends—no big deal, but it always walks in the door. She told me it was a great opportunity for her, that I was the most sensitive macho in America, and that she was Enough about living in California. I told her I was getting an opportunity, too. So we had a big fight about each other's flaws. Enough about it, and she left. "A year later, I decided to do another unblocking operation. The chances of success are slim, but what the hell." "Have you ever had a crush again?" Bill asked him. "No—that's the funniest part." Richie frowned. "When I woke up, I just wanted to—" "You must be crazy," Eddie said. "General anesthesia? Surgery? A week in the hospital, maybe?" "Yes, all these doctors told me. But in the end he agreed to do a test first to see if there is any need for surgery. After 3 days, the doctor called and said that I don't need surgery at all, and warned me that I might get involved with my biological father at any time. Confirmed lawsuit. I called Sandy right away to tell her the news. She told me she was married. I asked her if she had a baby by accident. She listened and laughed so hard. 'Wonderful, ' She said, 'This time you're fucked.' After all these years, this time Dorje the Recorder left a big joke. How many pups have you had since I got east, Ricky?' You mean Say you haven't experienced the joy of being a mother yet?" I asked her. "'I'm due in July,' she said, 'is there any more questions?'" 'Well,' I said, 'when did you change your immoral mind and prepare to bring your child to this filthy place? The world is coming? '" "'When I finally meet a man who isn't shit.' she said and hung up." Bill couldn't help laughing until tears flowed. "Really, only 11 out of more than 20,000 people can regenerate naturally." There was silence on the table. "So I got lucky," Richie said, "but still no kids. Now you believe it, Ezz?" Eddie was still stubborn: "That still doesn't prove—" "Right," Bill said, "that doesn't prove anything. But it certainly suggests a connection. The question is, what are we doing now? Have you thought about that, Mike?" "Of course I've thought about it," Mike said, "but until you all get together and talk like you're doing now, nothing can be decided. Until then, I can't tell what the party is going to be." He stopped for a long time, looking at everyone meaningfully. "I've got an idea," he said, "but before I tell you what I think, we have to make sure you have something to do when you're here. Would we like to try again what we've done? Would you like to Try killing it again? Or do we split the bill and we all go back to our own business?" "It seems—" Beverly was about to speak, but Mike shook his head at her. "You have to understand that our chances of success are unpredictable. I know there's not much hope, and I know things would be better if Stanley was here. But it's still not completely solved, just slightly better. Without Stanley, we The coalition that was formed that day fell apart. I really don't think there is a whole coalition that we can destroy, or even push back temporarily. It would kill us one by one, and probably in a very dire way. Childhood We formed a full alliance in a way that I still can't understand. So I think if we agree to go ahead, then we have to form a small alliance. I don't know if it will be possible to reunite. It is even conceivable Got us forming an alliance only to find out - if it's too late - oh... the alliance was formed too late." Mike looked at everyone again, his deep-set eyes showed a trace of fatigue. "So I think we need to vote: stay and try again, or go home. Those are the two options. I have brought you here by the power of that old oath, but I cannot bring you together by the power of that oath." You stay. That's counterproductive. Or worse." He looked at Bill, and in that moment Bill knew what was going to happen.He was terrified, but powerless to stop it.Mike had called them all here, laid all the facts before them... and now he wanted to give up the leadership.He wanted that responsibility to go to the man who carried it in 1958. "What do you think, Bill? Ask." "Before I answer," Bill said, "does everyone understand the question? Have something to say, Beverly?" She shook her head. "Fine. I-I guess the question is, do we stay and fight, or forget what happened? Who's in favor of staying?" For a moment everyone stood still.Bill thought of innocent George, and the anger came back to him.But now he is more mature.It's not just George alone.A horrific list of names of those who had been massacred flashed through his mind, all those who had been killed.Who knows how many more are still missing. He slowly raised his hand and said, "Let's kill it. Really kill it this time." His hand was raised there alone, as if he was the only kid in the class who knew the correct answer, and the kid all his classmates hated.Then Richie sighed, held up his hand, and said, "Go for it. It can't be worse than interviewing those big stars." Beverly raised her hand.Her face was back to normal, but there was still a little blush on her cheeks, and she looked agitated and terrified. Mike raised his hand. Ben raised his hand. Eddie leaned back, looked as if he was going to hide in the chair, and disappeared.He looked left and right, then at Bill, and there was a strange terror in that thin, delicate face.At that moment Bill thought Eddie would push his chair, get up, and run out of the room without looking back. He finally raised his hand, clutching his asthma spray in the other. 6 "So what do you think, Mike?" Bill asked.At this time, the proprietress came in to deliver fortune cakes, and saw all six of them raising their hands.They hurriedly put down their hands, and they didn't continue to talk about their plans until the proprietress left. "Very simple," Mike said, "but also very dangerous." "Go ahead." Rich urged him. "I think we should split up for the second half of the day. Everyone goes back to where they remember the most... except Ben Lun. I don't think any of us should go there - at least not yet. If you want, consider this a A hike." "For what purpose, Mike?" Ben asked. "I'm not sure. You should understand that we're mostly going with our instincts here, but your instincts are strong, so you're dancing to the beat," Richie said. Everyone laughed.Mike didn't smile, just nodded. "Good point. Going by instinct is like dancing to the beat of the music. Adults have a hard time using their intuition. That's why I think it's good for us to be guided by intuition. Children, at least until about a year old, Eighty percent of the time you act on your gut." "You mean to get back the old feeling?" Eddie said. "I think so. Anyway, that's my idea. If you can't think of a definite place to go, just go with your gut. Then we'll meet at the library tonight and talk about everything we come across." "In case something happens..." Ben said. "Oh, I think it's bound to happen." "What is it?" Bill asked. Mike shook his head. "I don't know. But it's never a pleasant experience. Not even some of us can go back to the library tonight.No reason...just a hunch. " Everyone was silent for a while. "Why go it alone?" Beverly asked at last. "Why go it alone, Mike, if we're going to do this together as a unit? If it's as dangerous as you think it is?" "It happened to everyone in the beginning," Bill said to Beverly. "I can't remember everything that happened, but I have a lot of memories. The moving pictures in George's room, Ben. Mummies seen, lepers Eddie saw under the porch on Nebert Street, blood Mike found in the grass near Bath Park. And the bird... there's a bird, isn't it, Mike?" Mike nodded gravely. "A big bird." "Yes, but not as friendly as Big Bird from Sesame Street." "You heard the sound of the pipes, and the blood spurting from the sewer," Bill said to Beverly. "Ricky..." But at this point he paused, confused. "I'm definitely an exception, Bill," said Richie. "The first time I ever had all the strange things that happened that summer—the strangest thing—was with you in George's room. We went back to your house that day, Looked at the photo album. The picture of Central Avenue by the canal started to shake. Do you remember?" "Remember," Bill said, "but you're sure nothing happened to you before that, Rich? Not at all?" "I—" something appeared in front of Richie's eyes.He said slowly: "Well, Henry and his friends chased me one day—it was before school holidays, and I hid in Frisch's toy store and ducked. I walked across Center Avenue, on a park bench After sitting for a while, I saw...but it was just a dream." "What is it?" Beverly asked. "Nothing," Rich said impatiently. "A dream. Really." He looked at Mike. "It doesn't matter if you walk around. Take a look at the scenery of your hometown and pass the afternoon." "So it's settled?" Bill asked. Everyone nodded in agreement. "We meet at the library at night... Mike, what time do you say is a good time?" "Seven o'clock. Ring the bell if you're late." "Just seven o'clock," Bill said, looking gravely at everyone, "be careful. Remember none of us know what we're doing, doing, doing. Let's call this a reconnaissance. If you see something, don't be scared .run." "I'm a lover, not a fighter." Richie imitated Mike.Jackson's voice. "Well, if we're going to do this, we should be doing it now," Ben said.There was a pained smile on the corner of his mouth. "Although I'm telling you where I'm going now - if you exclude Ban Lun, you will definitely scold me. But the best thing for me - is to go there with you." His eyes were on Bev There was a pause on Li's face. "I can't think of any other place that means more to me." "You'll find where you want to be, Haystack," Richie said. "Look at the grocery store you used to frequent and grab a bite." Ben laughed. "I haven't had that strength since I was 11. I eat too much, and you will have to carry me out later." "Well, I've made up my mind," Eddie said. "Wait a minute!" Beverly yelled as everyone stood up. "Fortune cookies! Don't forget!" "Yeah," Richie said, "I saw mine. 'You're going to be eaten by a big monster soon. Have a nice day.'" Everyone laughed.Mike handed the bowl of fortune cookies to Richie, who took one and passed it around.Bill noticed that they didn't unravel the mystery until everyone had their cakes; they put them in front of them, or held them in their hands, and Beverly held hers up, smiling.Bill suddenly screamed, "No! No, don't open it, that's part of it, put it back, don't open it!" But it's too late.Beverly had opened her cake; Ben was opening his; Eddie was cutting the edge with a fork.For a moment, Bill thought: We know, we all know somehow, because no one is biting into their wedding cake.That should have come naturally, but no one did that.Somehow we all remember...everything that happened. At the same time he felt the most horrific realization of it, which told them more eloquently than Mike's words how deeply it left everyone. Blood splashed from Beverly's wedding cake, covered her hands, and dripped on the white tablecloth, spreading like pink fingers. Eddie let out a suppressed yelp, almost knocking over the chair.A hideous russet insect crawled out of his wedding cake.A pair of dark eyes stared blankly ahead.When the insect had completely crawled out of the wedding cake, it rubbed its hind legs and let out a monotonous and sharp humming. Bill realized it was a mutated cricket.The thing slowly crawled up to the plate and fell on its four sides onto the tablecloth. "Oh, my God!" Richie's voice seemed to be choked. "Oh, Bill, it's an eye, God, it's an eye, a nasty eye—" Bill turned his head to see Rich staring at his cake, biting his lip.The crispy crust of his wedding cake fell on the tablecloth, revealing a black hole, and one human eyeball gleamed menacingly. Ben dropped his wedding cake on the table in horror.The fortune cookie rolled around and Bill saw two teeth inside with clotted blood at the root.Like seeds in an empty gourd, they rattled. He turned to see Beverly and was about to scream.Eyes fixed on what crawled out of Eddie's biscuit, it fell on all fours on the table, kicking slowly on its hind legs. Bill didn't even think about it, but instinctively, he jumped up and covered Beverly's mouth. Eddie gasped. He looked at the others sternly, and remembered what happened that summer, a long and clear voice: "Shut up! All of you! Don't make any noise! ​​Don't say anything!" Richie covered his mouth.Mike's face was ashen, and he nodded at Bill.Everyone leaves the table. Bill hadn't opened his fortune cookie by the time his mates were ready to evacuate, but he could already see the edge of the cookie rising and falling—up and down, and up and down. "Shut up, Beverly," he said, letting go. Beverly's eyes widened, her mouth twisted. "Bill... Bill, you see..." Her gaze fell on the cricket again, and she froze there.The cricket seemed dead, staring at her with wrinkled eyes.Beverly groaned softly. "Don't, don't, never mind that," he said gravely, "sit back." "I can't, Bill, I can't go near that—" "You can do it! You must, must!" He heard a sound of lightly walking footsteps approaching. He looked at the others. "Everyone! Sit back! Chat! Be natural!" Beverly looked at him beggingly, and Bill shook his head.He pulled up his chair and sat down, trying not to look at what was on his plate.It was full of pus, swollen like a gigantic boil, still heaving together. Eddie sprayed some medicine down his throat and took a deep breath. Just then the proprietress came in with a polite, inquiring look on her face. “没事吧？”老板娘问。 “没、没事。”比尔答道，指指艾迪。“我朋友的哮喘病又犯了。他带着药。现在好多了。” 老板娘关心地看着艾迪。 “好多了。”艾迪气喘吁吁地说。 “你们想要我现在就收拾桌子吗？” “马上。”麦克挤出一个灿烂的笑容。 “饭菜还行吧？”她看了一眼餐桌，深邃宁静的眼神中带着一丝忧虑。她没有看见蟋蟀、眼球、牙齿和比尔盘子里那块一鼓一息的小饼。同样没有注意到染在桌布上的血污。 “都好极了。”贝弗莉笑着说——比比尔和麦克的笑容自然多了。 好姑娘，够勇敢，比尔想。 “运气好吗？”老板娘又问。 “好极了。”理奇赶忙搭话。“不知道别人的怎样，反正我真开了眼界。” 比尔听到徽弱的破裂声。他看了一眼盘子，只见一条腿从小饼中伸了出来，在盘子上刮出刺耳的声音。 我差点把那东西吃下去，他又在想，但是脸上还挂着微笑。“好极了。”他说。 理奇看着比尔的盘子。一只灰黑的苍蝇从小饼中钻出来，发出低微的嗡嗡声。一股黄色的粘液流到集布上，散发出一股浓重的恶臭，像是伤口化脓的味道。 “哦，如果现在有什么我可以做的……” “现在不用，”班恩说，“真是一顿美餐。太……太独特了。” “那我走了。”老板娘说着鞠躬走了出去。门上的珠帘还没有停止晃动，所有的人腾地站起来离开了那张桌子。 “是什么？”班恩压着嗓子问，盯着比尔盘中的那个东西。 “一只苍蝇，”比尔说，“一只变异的苍蝇。作家乔治。朗哥翰的盛情。他写了一部叫的小说，被拍成了电影——虽然不是特别好，但是那个故事把我吓得半死。又是它故伎重演。最近我一直在想苍蝇的事，因为我正在构思一部小说。” “对不起，”贝弗莉有气无力地说，“我要吐了。”还没等其他人站起来，她已经走了出去。 比尔抖开他的餐巾纸，扔在那只跟小麻雀一样大小的苍蝇上。这么大的东西根本不可能从那么小的饼里钻出来……但是它已经出来了。那只苍蝇在餐巾纸下哼哼了两声，不动了。 “上帝啊！”艾迪的声音微弱。 “让我们把这个该死的东西除掉，”麦克说，“咱们到大厅里等贝弗莉吧。” 贝弗莉刚刚从洗手间走出来。脸色苍白，但是平静多了。麦克付了账，大家一起走进蒙蒙的春雨中。 “有人改变主意了吗？”麦克问。 “我没有。”班恩说。 “没有。”艾迪也说。 “有什么啊？”理奇说。 比尔无可奈何地摇摇头，看着贝弗莉。 “我要留下来，”她说，“比尔，你说又是它故技重演是什么意思？” “我正在想写一个关于昆虫的故事，”他说，“朗哥翰的故事一直在我脑中盘旋。所以我看到的就是苍蝇。你看到的是血，贝弗莉。为什么想到了血？” “我想是因为下水道喷出的血的缘故。”贝弗莉立刻明白了。“我们原来住的那个家里，卫生间的下水道冒出血来。那时我才11岁。” 但这是真的吗？她并不真的这么认为。因为当那一股带着热气的鲜血喷在她的手上的时候，她想到的是脚踩在碎香水瓶上，身后留下的血迹斑斑的脚印。Tom.还有父亲。 “你看到的也是昆虫，”比尔问艾迪，“为什么？” “不只是一只昆虫，”艾迪说，“是一只蟋蟀。我们的地窖里有好多蟋蟀。住着20万美元买回的房子，却除不掉那些蟋蟀。一到夜里，就吵得我们受不了。在麦克打来电话之前的一个晚上，我做了一个噩梦。我梦到自己醒来时发现床上爬满了蟋蟀。我用哮喘喷雾剂射击，但是我每按一下，只听到喀啪的响声。我才意识到哮喘喷雾剂里也爬满了蟋蟀。” “老板娘却什么也没看到。”班恩说。他看着贝弗莉。“就像你父母看不到从下水道里流出的鲜血一样。” "Yes," she said. 他们站在细细的春雨中，看着对方。 麦克看了看表。“大概20分钟后有公共汽车，”他说，“或者我们挤挤，我的车可以载4个人。或者找辆的士。你们看怎么走。” “我想我还是从这里开始走，”比尔说，“我还不知道想去哪儿，但是呼吸呼吸新鲜空气似乎是个好主意。” “我叫的士。”班思说。 “我跟你一起打车，如果能把我捐到市中心的话。” “好的。你准备去哪儿？” Richie shrugged. "have not decided yet." 其余的人决定等公共汽车。 “7点钟，”麦克提醒大家，“大家都要小心。” 他们答应会多加小心，尽管比尔不知道当你要应付一大堆可怕的未知数的时候，如何能做出那样的保证。 他想这么说出来。看看大家的脸，明白他们已经知道了他的想法。 于是他挥了挥手，转身走了。湿润的空气扑在脸上，感觉好惬意。走回城区的路很长，但是没有关系。他有许多事要想想清楚。他很高兴聚会结束了，他们开始行动起来。