Chapter 43 Chapter 42

When Larry Underwood spent his Fourth of July just one state away, Stewart.Redman is enjoying his lunch on a boulder by the side of the road.He heard the sound of motors getting closer.Swallowing a can of beer, carefully stacking the can on top of the waxed paper roll wrapped in the Rol's biscuit.The rifle leaned against the rock beside him.He picked up the rifle, flipped the safety off, and put it closer to his hand.The motorcycle was coming here, and it sounded like a small one. 2-50 type?Such general silence makes it impossible to tell how far they are from here. 10 miles, maybe, just maybe.He could eat more if he wanted to, but he didn't.At this time, the sun is very warm, and I am happy to think of meeting people.He hadn't seen a living person since he last left Glenn Bateman's house in Woodsville.He glanced at the gun again.He flipped the safety cover off because maybe someone like Elder would come.He'd put his gun on a rock because he hoped someone would be like Bateman—only not too pessimistic about the future.Society will see the light again, Bateman had said.Note that I did not use the word "reform".That would be a terrible pun.There is a real reformation in human society.

But Bateman himself does not want to be prioritized by society.He seems perfectly content—(at least for now)—to walk with Kojak, paint his paintings, and pace his garden, contemplating the social impact of the killing. If you come back like this and ask for "Unite in unison" again, Stu, I might agree.The bane of mankind is social activity.Christ should have said this: "Ah! Whenever two or three of you get together, someone else is screwed. What sociology shall I tell you, about human things? I'll tell you briefly You. Give me a man or a woman alone and I'll give you a saint. Give me a man and a woman and they'll love each other. Give me 3 and they'll create a fascinating thing we call "Society". Give me 4 people and they'll build a pyramid. Give me 5 people and one of them will be a bum. Give me 6 people and they'll reinvent discrimination. Give me 7 people and 7 years from now They reinvented war. Man may have been created in the image of God, but human society was created in the image of his counterpart, and man always wanted to go home.

Is that true?God help them if they are right.It's just that of late Stu has been thinking a lot about his old friends and acquaintances.In his memory, there was a particular tendency to downplay or forget their unlikable personalities—the way Billy picked his nose, stomped his nose under his feet, Norman Brueter The way Billy Verrick stomped kitten skulls underfoot with the heel of his boot caused cats to prowl around his house in an unflattering way of being overly harsh with his children. The thoughts that come to mind are all good.When I went hunting at dawn, I wrapped myself warmly in a thick jacket and an orange waistcoat from Daigaule.Playing poker at Ralph Hodge's house, Willie Craddock was always complaining about how he started with $20 and ended up with $4.Six or seven of them pushed his scout out into the road when Tony Lemster went down the gutter, drunk and insane, and Tony rocked back and forth in the gutter, swear to God and all: he turned It was to avoid a boat full of illegal migrant workers from Mexico.God, they don't know how to smile.Chris Ortega has always made a barrage of racial jokes.They went to Huntsville for whores, and Joe Bob Brentwood caught some crabs and wanted to tell everyone that they caught them from the couch in the living room and not from the girl upstairs.These times are so fucking good.I'm not looking forward to the happy times that those of you who are always in nightclubs, favorite restaurants and museums think, but the same as before.He recalled those things, thinking about them over and over again, like an old hermit playing with an oily deck of cards over and over to relieve his loneliness.What he wants most is to hear people's voices, to know someone, to be able to face someone and say, "Did you see that?"He wasn't much of a talker, but he didn't like being alone either, and never did.

He sat up a bit as the bike finally swept the corner.He saw two Honda 250S motorcycles, on which was a boy about 18 years old and a girl who was older than the boy.The girl was wearing a bright yellow blouse and light blue jeans. They saw him sitting on a rock, the riders momentarily lost control in surprise, and both Hondas made a small turn.The boy's mouth parted.After a while it was not clear whether they stopped or accelerated westward. Stu raised an empty hand and said "hi" affectionately.His heart was beating violently.He wanted them to stop.They really stopped. For a moment he was troubled by their tension.Especially the boy; he looked like he had a gallon of adrenaline pumped into his blood.Stu had guns, but not against them, and besides they were armed themselves.The boy has a pistol, and the girl has a small shotgun, as does an actress playing an insecure Patty Hearst.

"I think he's normal, Harold," said the girl, but the boy she called Harold rode along, looking at Stu with a look of wonder and hostility. "I said I thought..." she began again. "How do we know that?" Harold interrupted, keeping his eyes on Stu. "Ah, nice to meet you, if that's going to change your mind about me," said Stu. "What if we don't believe you?" Harold retorted, and Stu looked livid at him.Because Stu and his sense of duty to the girl terrified him. "Well, then I don't know." Stu got up from the rock, and Harold's hand began to reach for the pistol in the holster tremblingly.

"Harold, don't shoot," the girl said.Then the girl lay down quietly, and it looked like they were too exhausted to move on right away. (Three points connected form a triangle, but its exact shape is unknown.) "Ah," said Frannie, lying down on a patch of moss under an elm by the roadside, to stretch her weary body and mind. "I'm not going to take a callus off my ass, Harold." Harold grunted angrily. She turned to Stu again. "Have you ever ridden a Honda 170 miles, Mr. Redman?" Stu smiled and said, "Where are you going?" "What the hell does it matter to you?" Harold asked rudely.

"What's your attitude?" Franny asked him. "Mr. Redman was the first person we've seen since Gus Dinsmore died! I mean, if we don't find someone else If so, what are we going to do?" "He's on your guard, that's why," Stu said quietly.He pulled up a piece of grass and put it in his mouth. "Yes, I'm wary," said Harold, a little exasperated. "I think we're wary of each other," she said, and Harold flushed. Stu thought: Give me 3 people and they'll form a society.But are both men worth befriending?He likes the girl, but the boy strikes him as a timid blowhard.Such a person can be a dangerous element, under favorable or unfavorable conditions.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harold muttered.He gave Stu a sullen look, and pulled a box of Marlboros from his jacket pocket.He lit one.He smoked as if he had just picked up the habit.Maybe it was the day before yesterday. "We're going to Stowington, Vermont," Franny said, "to the plague center there. We... what's wrong with you, Mr. Redman?" He paled suddenly.The straw stick he was chewing on fell onto his lap. "Why go there?" Stu asked. "Because there happens to be facilities for the study of infectious diseases there," said Harold haughtily, "and I think if there were any institutions in this country, or some people in power who wanted to get away with it, they'd probably be in Stowyton." Or Atlanta, where there's another center like that."

"Yes," said Franny. Stu said, "You guys are wasting your time." Franny looked a little shocked.Harold looked a little annoyed.His face started to turn red again from his neck. "I'm not going to use you as a judge at all, man!" "I suppose I am, because I call from there." At this moment, both of them were shocked and dumbfounded. "You understand?" Franny asked, trembling. "Have you done any research?" "Yes, that's not the case, it's..." "You're lying!" Harold yelled high and harshly. Frannie saw Redman's eyes flash with indifference and anger, and then became gloomy and soft again. "No, I didn't lie."

"I think you are! I think you're not shit, just a..." "Harold, shut up!" Harold looked at her, a little hurt. "But Franny, how could you have..." "How can you be so rude and aggressive?" she demanded angrily. "You at least listen to what he has to say, can't you, Harold?" "I don't trust him." Stu thinks that's fair enough so we're evenly matched. "How can you not trust someone you just met? Really, Harold, you've become a nuisance!" "I'll tell you how I know," Stu said quietly.He picked out one of the stories to tell them, beginning with Campion storming Harper's gas station.He briefly described his escape from Stoverton a week earlier.Harold stared blankly at his hands, which were pulling moss from the ground, tearing it apart bit by bit.And the girl's face was like a map of an unexpanded mysterious country, and Stu felt sorry for her.She set off with the boy in the hope of leaving something for granted.Unfortunately, she was disappointed.Her face was so pained.

"Is it the same in Atlanta? Are both places infected with the plague?" she asked. "Yes," he said.Tears welled up in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her, but boys didn't like that.Harold looked anxiously at Franny, then down at the moss on his cuff.Stu handed her the handkerchief.She thanked him without looking up, looking distracted.Harold gave him another sullen look, the way a greedy little boy wants a cookie jar.Stu wondered if he'd be surprised to find out that a girl wasn't a jar of cookies? As her sobs turned to sobbing, she said, "Harold and I should thank you. At least you saved us from a long journey and a disappointment." "You mean to believe him? Is it that simple? He tells you a story and you... believe it?" "Harold, why is he lying? Is there any good?" "Then how do I know what he's up to?" Harold said pugnaciously. "Murder. Could be. Or rape." "I don't think it's rape myself," Stu said mildly. "Maybe you know more than I do." "Shut up," said Franny. "Harold, please don't be so scary, will you?" "Dreadful?" cried Harold. "I just wanted to be careful--for you--for us. Is it terrible?" "Look," said Stu, and rolled up his sleeves.There are several healing needle marks on the inside of the elbow, and there are remaining scars that have lost their blood color. "They injected me with various drugs." "Maybe you're on drugs," Harold said. Stu didn't say anything, and put down his sleeves again.Of course it was because of the girl.His mind was already full of thoughts of owning her.However, there are some girls you can have and some you can't.This girl belongs to the latter category.She is tall, beautiful, and very fit.Her brown eyes and hair set off an expression of helplessness.The fine line between her brows is easy to see, so obvious when she is troubled, her hands are agile, and the way she strokes the hair on her forehead is crisp. "So what are we doing now?" she asked, ignoring Harold. "Continue our journey," said Harold.When she glanced at him with furrowed brows, he added hastily, "Well, we've got to go somewhere. Of course, he might be telling the truth, but we've got to test it out. Then we'll make up our minds." .” Franny gave Stu a look, as if to say "I don't want to hurt you, just the feeling." Stu shrugged. "All right?" Harold asked. "I don't think it matters," Franny said.She plucked a dandelion that was about to lose its seeds and blew the fluff off it. "Did you see no one on the way here?" Stu asked. "Only one dog that looked normal. No people seen." "I saw a dog, too." He told them about Bateman and Kojak.When he finished, he said, "I'm going to the coast, but you've lost my confidence by saying I didn't see anyone along the way." "I'm sorry," said Harold, as if changing his tone a bit.He stood up. "Ready, Franny." She looked at Stu, hesitated, then got up. "Back to the wonderful weight loss cart. Thanks for telling us what you know, Mr. Redman, even if the news isn't all that exciting." "Please wait a moment." Stu said, standing up.He hesitated for a moment, wondering if they were good people again, the girl was fine, but the boy must be 17 years old and suffering from the "I hate most people" thinking hurt.But are there so many for you to pick and choose?Stu thinks not. "I think we're all looking for someone," he said, "and I'd like to follow you guys if you let me." "No." Harold said eagerly. Franny was a little embarrassed when she saw Stu from Harold. "Maybe we..." "Don't worry about it. I said no." "Is there not one vote in favor?" "What's the matter with you? Can't you see that's what he wants? My God, Franny!" "Three is better than two if there's trouble," Stu said, "and I know better than one." "No." Harold repeated.His hand dropped to the butt of the gun. "Okay," said Franny. "We're glad you're on board. Mr. Redman." Harold countered her, looking angry and hurt.Stu tensed for a moment, thinking he might hit her, then relaxed again. "I know what you're thinking, you're just looking for an excuse to get rid of me, I know." He was on the verge of tears, which made him even more furious. "Okay, if you really want to. You go with him. I'm done with you." He walked quickly to where the Honda was parked. Franny gave Stu a hurt look, then turned to Harold. "Wait a minute," Stu said, "Stay here, please." "Don't hurt him," said Franny, "please." Stu strode over to Harold, who was standing next to the Honda, about to start it.He twiddled the gas pedal angrily, but luckily the gas pedal overflowed.Stu thought; if we started with that much throttle, the car would stand up on the rear wheel like a unicycle, and push Harold up the first tree and fall on top of him. "Get out of my way!" Harold screamed at him angrily, his hand dropping to the butt of the gun again.Stu put his hand on Harold's as if playing a game of poker.He put his other hand on Harold's arm.Harold's eyes widened, and Stu saw that he was one step away from danger.Not only did he resent the girl, she was too simplistic in his mind.His human dignity is surrounded by this simplicity, and overwhelmed by his new image as the girl's protector.God knows what the fuck he was before that, with his floppy stomach, pointy boots, fierce way of talking.But everything that remained hidden under this new image convinced him that he was, and always will be, a big fool.It may also be seen that he will never have the chance to start over.He would have reacted in the same way to Bateman or a 12-year-old.In any triangle, he will put himself at the bottom. "Harold," he said, almost hitting Harold's ear. "Let me go." His bulky body seemed a little light when he was tense, and his every move was like a dancing thread. "Harold, do you sleep with her?" Harold's body trembled, and Stu knew he hadn't. "none of your business!" "Yes. Except taking what we both see. She doesn't belong to me. Harold. She is herself. I don't want to take her from you. I'm sorry I'm being rash, but it's about us knowing ourselves Best way of the situation. Right now we're two and one, but if you go we're still two and one. No good." Harold said nothing, but his hands were no longer trembling. "I just had to be frank," Stu went on, his voice very, very even, leaning into Harold's ear. "You think, I know it's not necessary for a man to rape a woman. If he knew he had something to do, he wouldn't." "That's..." Harold licked his lips, then looked at the side where Franny was standing.Frannie, with her elbows folded and her arms folded, watched them anxiously. "What a nuisance." "Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm not, but when a man is around a woman who doesn't want to have sex with him, the man has to make a choice. I can control myself every time, and I think it's important for her to follow you voluntarily." You'll do the same sometimes. We're talking privately, and I just want to be honest with you. I don't want to push you out of here. That's what bullies do at country fair dances." Harold let go of the gun, looked at Stu and said, "You really think that? I... you swear you're not lying?" Stu nodded. "I love her," Harold said hoarsely. "She doesn't love me, I know that, but I'm telling the truth, just like you said." "That would be best. I have no intention of getting involved. I just want to be with you." Harold had no choice but to repeat: "Do you swear?" "Yes, I swear." "OK." He slowly got out of the car again and walked back to Franny with Stu. "He can come with us," said Harold. "I..." He looked at Stu, feeling a little undignified, and said reluctantly, "I apologize for my stupidity." "Wow!" Franny clapped her hands and applauded, "Now that this problem is solved, where shall we go?" In the end they headed in the direction Franny and Harold had come from.Stu said he thought Glenn Bateman would be happy to keep them overnight, and if they got to Woodsville before dark he might agree to go with them next morning (Here Harold said bitterly again glared at him).Stu drives Franny's Honda, and Franny rides on the back of Harold's motorcycle.They stopped for lunch at Twin Mountain and began to get to know each other slowly and carefully.Their accents amused Stu, with their mouths opening too wide for the A's and their "I"s slurred.He figured they must have thought his pronunciation was funny too, maybe a lot more. They were eating in an abandoned restaurant, and Stu found his eyes falling on Franny's face again and again, her vivid eyes, her small but firm jaw, the fine line between her brows that showed her emotion.He liked the way she watched and talked; he even liked the way she brushed her brown hair back from her temples.After all, this was the beginning of him knowing that he really had her idea.