Chapter 56 Chapter 55

The judge's house overlooks a cemetery. After dinner, he and Larry sat on the back porch, smoking a cigar, watching the sun fade to a pale orange over the hillside. The judge said: "When I was young, my house was very close to the best cemetery in Illinois. The name of the cemetery was Mount Hope. My father was in his 60s at the time, and every night after dinner, he would go for a walk. Sometimes I go with him, and every time we pass by the restored cemetery, he'll say, 'Teddy, what do you think? Is there hope?' I say, 'This is Mount Hope.' Every time he says Laughing out loud, like it was the first time. I sometimes think we just stopped by that cemetery because he wanted to share the joke with me. He’s rich, but he seems to appreciate the joke the most.”

The judge smoked, his jaw dropped and his shoulders hunched. He said: "He died in 1937 when I was a teenager and I've always missed him. Boys don't need a father unless it's a good father, and a good father is essential. There's no hope, only hope. Hill. How he loved that joke! He was 78 when he died. Larry, he died like a king. He sat on a throne in the smallest room of our house with a newspaper on his lap." Faced with such strange nostalgia, Larry didn't know what to do, so he didn't make a sound. The judge sighed and said, "There's going to be some movement here soon. That is, if you can get the power back on. If you can't, people will get nervous and start heading south before the bad weather hits."

"Ralph and Brad said it was going to happen and I believed them." "Then we gotta hope that the people you trust are reliable, don't we? Maybe it's a good thing the old lady is gone. Maybe she knows better that way. Maybe people should be free to judge for themselves what the light in the sky is, and whether the trees have Face, is that face just a trick of light and shadow. Do you understand me, Larry?" Larry said honestly, "Don't know. I'm not sure." "I'm wondering if we need to revolutionize that boring god and savior and eternity thing before we revolutionize the flush toilet. That's what I mean. I wonder if we need God right now."

"You think she's dead?" "She's been gone for 6 days. The search committee has found no sign of her. Yes, I think she's dead, but even now I can't say for sure. She's an amazing woman, totally defying common sense. Maybe I'm almost glad she left for one reason, and one is that I'm a very normal old miser. I like to take my time and water my garden every day - did you see how I bought back the begonias? I'm quite ok with that Pride - read my books and write notes on the plague for my own. I like to do these things and then sleep carefree with a glass of wine at bedtime. Yes. None of us want to see the omens , no matter how much we like to watch ghost novels and horror movies. None of us really want to see the stars in the east or the pillars of fire in the night. We want peace, reason, and conformity. Seeing the word of God on our face must remind us that for every God there is a devil — and our devil may be closer to us than we think."

"That's why I'm here," Larry said awkwardly, wishing fervently that the judge hadn't mentioned his garden, books, notes, and his nightcap wine.He had optimistically imagined a meeting of friends and made a carefree proposal.Now he worries about whether it's possible to continue without sounding like a cruel opportunistic retard. "I know why you're here. I accept." Larry was shocked when he heard this, and the chair he was sitting in creaked. "Who told you? Judge, this should be kept strictly confidential. If anyone on the committee leaks information, we'll be in trouble."

The judge raised a hand covered with age spots and stopped him.Two eyes blinked on his weather-beaten face. "Keep your voice down, boy, keep your voice down. No one on your committee is leaking information, at least not to me, and I haven't poked around. No, I'm letting this secret out to myself. Why are you here tonight?" Larry, your face says it all. I hope you don't go to poker. When I talk about my little hobbies, I see your face darkened and downcast... You have a look on your face It's very funny..." "Is it that funny? What am I supposed to do, I'm happy to..."

The judge said quietly, "Send me west, to spy on that land. Isn't that what it is?" "Exactly." "I've been wondering how long it took you guys to come up with this idea. Of course, it's very important, very necessary, if the State of the Free is to have a 100 percent chance of surviving. We don't really know what he's going to do there. He Probably on the far side of the moon." "If he's really there." "He's there. He's there in one form or another. Absolutely true." He pulled a pair of nail clippers out of his trouser pocket and began clipping his nails, light snaps embellishing his words. "Tell me, has the committee discussed, what if we decide we like it better there? What if we decide to stay?"

Larry was taken aback.He told the judge that, as far as he knew, no one had thought of the idea yet. The judge said with deceptive leisure: "I guess he's got the lights on. You know, there's an attraction to that. Apparently the man Impenning felt that." "It's a relief," said Larry grimly. The judge laughed heartily. After laughing enough, he said, "I'll go tomorrow. I think, I'll take Lowell. North to Wyoming and west. Thank God I can still drive! I'm going to drive all the way through Idaho, to Heading north in California. It will take about two weeks to go, longer to come back. When we come back, it will probably snow."

"Yeah. We discussed that possibility." "And I'm old. Old people are prone to heart attacks and stupid mistakes. I suppose you must have a backup?" "this……" "No, you don't have to talk about that. I retract the question." Larry stammered, "Look, you can say no. No one puts a gun to your head..." "Are you trying to shirk your responsibility to me?" asked the judge sharply. "Maybe. Maybe I'm doing it. Maybe I think there's only a 1 in 10 chance you'll come back, and a 1 in 20 chance you'll come back with useful information. Maybe I'm just trying to say in a nicer way that I might be wrong A mistake. You may be too old."

The judge said: "I am too old to take the risk but I hope I am not too old to do what I think is right. There was an old lady out there who may well have died a tragic death. None Doubt, influenced by religious fanaticism. But people trying to do the right thing always seem a little crazy. I'm going. I'm going to be cold. I have a bad stomach. I'm going to be lonely. I'm going to miss me Cemetery. But..." He looked up at Larry, eyes shining in the dark. "I'll be smart too." "I think you will," said Larry, feeling tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

"How is Lucy?" asked the judge, clearly not intending to talk further about his trip. Larry said, "Fine, we're all fine." "no problem?" "No," he thought of Nadina.Her helplessness the last time he saw her still haunted him deeply.She once said, you are my last chance.Oddly enough, it's almost like committing suicide.How can we help her?Psychotherapy?It's a joke, the most they can get is a vet.Not even a prayer phone anymore. "You're fine with Lucy, but I'm guessing you're worried about the other woman," the judge said. "Yes." The words that followed were hard to come by, but it made him feel better to speak his mind to someone else. "I think she might be thinking about, uh, suicide." He said in a breath. "It's not just because of me, don't think I think any girl will kill herself because she can't get sexy Larry Underwood. But The boy in her care has grown up and I think she feels alone and no one depends on her anymore." "If her depression becomes more and more serious and becomes a long-term recurring situation, she may indeed commit suicide." The indifference of the judge when he spoke was chilling. Larry looked at him in shock. "But you can only be a man," said the judge, "isn't it?" "yes." "And you have made your choice?" "yes." "Your motives are good?" "yes." "Then stick to it," said the judge contentedly. "For God's sake, Larry, be a grown-up. Might as well be a little smug. God knows, it's annoying to be too smug, but a little bit is absolutely necessary! Your soul needs it like your skin needs it in midsummer." You can only take care of your soul, and every now and then some smart therapist will question even that. Be a grown up! Your Lucy is a good woman. Take care of yourself and her soul That's enough, wanting to take on more responsibility is chewing too much, and people are always unlucky for chewing too much." "I like talking to you," said Larry, both surprised and amused by such explicit yet wise words. The judge said calmly, "That must be because I'm saying exactly what you want to hear." Then he added, "You know, there are many ways to commit suicide." Before long, Larry would recall those words with aching heart. At 8:15 the next morning, Harold's truck left the Greyhound station and headed back to the Taber Mesa area.Harold, Weichak, and two others were in the back of the truck, and Norman Kroger was in the front with another.At the intersection of Broadway and Arafon Road, a brand new Lovol slowly drove towards them. Wei Chak waved his hand and shouted, "Judge, where are you going?" The judge looked ridiculous in his woolen shirt and waistcoat.He pulled the car over and said kindly, "I think I'm going to Denver today." Weichak asked, "Can you get there with this?" "I figured I could get there if I avoided the main road." "If you're passing by an X-Rated bookstore, why don't you bring back a truckload of them?" This one-liner made everyone laugh.Even the judge laughed, but Harold didn't.He didn't seem to have had a good rest this morning and looked sluggish.He did hardly sleep all night.Nadina lived up to her word, and he had many dreams come true the first night.He was already looking forward to tonight.Weichak's one-liner only made him smile because he already had first-hand experience.Nadina was still sleeping when he left.When they fell asleep around 2 o'clock, Nadina said she wanted to see his account book, and he told her to do it if she wanted to.Maybe he let her master herself, but he couldn't figure it out.But it was the best stuff he had written in his life, and the deciding factor was his desires—his needs rather.He needs someone to watch his good workmanship. Kroger leaned out of the truck cab and said to the judge, "You watch out, okay? There are some rough people on the road these days." "Indeed," said the judge, with a curious smile, "I'll be careful. Good luck to you, gentlemen. Good luck to you, Mr. Weichak!" The remark elicited another burst of laughter, and they parted ways. Judge didn't go to Denver.When he got to Highway 36, he crossed the street and drove along Highway 7.The morning was sunny and the traffic on this road was not too heavy.Things were worse in Brighton, where at one point he had to get off the road and across the local high school's football field to avoid heavy traffic.He continued east until Interstate 25.Turning right from here would take you to Denver, but he turned left onto the northbound fork.Halfway, he turned the radio to AM, turned left again, and headed west, where the roses were silently blooming against the blue sky, and Boulder lay at his feet. He told Larry he was too old to take any more risks and God save him, that was a lie.His heart stopped beating fast, the air wasn't so sweet, the colors weren't so bright, and it had been twenty years.He would follow Interstate 25 to Cheyenne, then west, to meet what awaited him beyond the mountains.Though his skin was wrinkled with age, he could not help but glow at the thought.West on I-80, into Salt Lake City, then across Nevada to Reno, then, he goes north again, but that doesn't matter.Because between Salt Lake City and Reno, or even earlier, he would be stopped, questioned, and probably sent elsewhere to be questioned again.If you don't know where, you may be invited. It is not impossible for him to meet the man in black himself. "Get to work, old man," he said softly. He shifted into gear and headed for the fork in the road.There are three northbound roads there, none of which are too crowded.As he guessed, Denver's traffic jams and accidents effectively stopped traffic.The traffic on the other side of the road is quite heavy, because many fools are going south, blindly hoping that the road south will be easier.But the road is fine, at least for now. Judge Charles drove on, happy to have started his journey.He had barely slept the night before, and tonight he would sleep well under the stars, wrapped tightly in two layers of sleeping bags.He doubted he'd ever see Boulder again, and there was little chance he'd want to come back.Yet he was extremely excited. It was one of the best days of his life. That afternoon Nick, Ralph, and Stu cycled north of Boulder to a small house where Tom Curran lived by himself.Tom's house has become a signpost for Boulder's "old" residents.Stan Nogotny said it was like Catholics, Buddhists, Seventh-day Adventists, Democrats and Unificationists coming together to create a religious-political hybrid of Disneyland. The lawn in front of the house is an eerie spectacle of statues.There are 12 statues of the Virgin Mary, some apparently feeding flocks of pink plastic flamingos.The largest of the flamingos was taller than Tom himself, with one leg fixed to the ground by a four-foot spike.There's also a huge baptismal well, with a giant shiny black plastic figure of Jesus standing in a decorative bucket, arms outstretched... apparently to bless the flamingos.Next to the baptismal well is a large plastic cow, apparently drinking from a birdbath. The front curtain was flung open, and Tom came out shirtless to meet them.From a distance, Nick thought, with his bright blue eyes and reddish blond beard, he looked like a very manly writer or painter.Come closer, it's not like, not like a learned man... Maybe a counter-cultural craftsman who takes affectation for originality.When you get close and talk a few words, you will find that Tom Curran is not a polite person. Nick knew that the reason he felt strong sympathy for Tom was that he was thought to be mentally retarded.First because his disability prevented him from learning to read and write, and later because it was taken for granted that people who are deaf and dumb must be mentally handicapped.He kept hearing all kinds of stories.He remembered stopping by Zack's one night for a few beers, a tavern on the outskirts of Shoyo.That was the night Ray Booth and his guys attacked him.The bartender stands at the other end of the bar, leaning on the bar and speaking intimately to a customer.His hand half covered his mouth, and Nick could only guess fragments of what he was saying.But he didn't need to guess any more.Deaf and dumb...80% mentally retarded...Those guys are almost all mentally retarded... But of all the nasty things to say about mental retardation, there was one that really suited Tom Curran.Nick used to describe himself that way, quietly in his head, with sympathy.This statement is: This guy is not complete.That's Tom's problem.That's the crux of the matter.The poor thing about Tom was that he was short of not many, and they were all seemingly insignificant ones-like two diamonds, two clubs and three flowers in a deck of cards.But without these few cards, you can't play well.Without these few cards, you can't even win at solitaire. "Nick!" cried Tom. "I'm so glad to see you! Tom Curran is so happy!" and he threw his arms around Nick's neck and hugged him.Nick, who still wore a black patch on such a sunny day, felt as though a tear was about to flow from his blind eye. "And Ralph! And this man. Are you... I suppose..." "I'm..." Stu opened his mouth, but Nick made a sharp chopping motion with his left hand, and he fell silent.He was practicing memorizing the rules with Tom, and it seemed to be working.If you associate something you know with a name you want to remember, it usually sticks.Rudy had reminded him of this too, many years ago. At this time, he took out a note paper from his pocket and wrote a few words hastily.He handed it to Ralph to read it aloud. Frowning, Ralph followed suit: "What do you like to eat in a bowl with meat, vegetables, and spices?" Tom froze.His face lost all vitality, and he opened his mouth blankly, as if he was stupid. Stu twisted uncomfortably and said, "Nick, don't you think we should..." Nick put a finger to his lips and stopped him, and at that moment Tom came alive again. "Stew meat!" He laughed and jumped up. "You're stew!" He looked at Nick to see if he was sure, and Nick gave him a "V" sign in victory. "M-O-O-N, put together it's stew, Tom Curran knows it, everybody knows it!" Nick pointed to the door of Tom's house. "Want to come in? Of course! We're all going to come in. Tom's decorating the house." Palver and Stu exchanged amused glances as they followed Nick and Tom up the steps.Tom was always "decorating", he didn't "decorating" because of course the house had already been furnished when he moved in.Stepping into this house is like stepping into the messy world of the mother goose. A huge gilt birdcage hung by the front door, containing a stuffed green parrot so carefully strapped to sticks that Nick had to stoop to get under it.The problem, he thought, was that Tom's trim wasn't just a mess of lace.If so, the house would be no more compelling than a messy barn.But there's something else here, and there seems to be some kind of pattern that ordinary people can't comprehend.A large block over the fireplace in the living room has some credit card signs, all centered and carefully propped up.Welcome to use your Visa credit card, MasterCard credit card here.Diner's Club.At this moment, he suddenly had a question: How did Tom know that these signs belonged to the same type?He is illiterate, but he figured out the way of it like a ghost. On the coffee table is a large fire extinguisher.The police lights were placed on the windowsill, where the sunlight could be seen, throwing a cool blue light onto the opposite wall. Tom showed them around the house.The downstairs playroom was filled with birds and stuffed animals that Tom had found in a taxidermy shop.He hung the birds on barely visible piano wire, and owls, hawks, and even a moth-eaten vulture missing a yellow glass eyeball seemed to be flying.In one corner was a woodchuck standing on its hind legs, in another a gopher, in another a skunk, in a fourth a weasel.In the middle of the room is a coyote who seems to be the focal point of all these critters. The railing up the stairs was wrapped in red and white strips that looked like a barber shop sign.The upper half of the corridor is hung with more piano wires of various models of fighter jets.The bathroom floor was painted a bright iron-blue, and on it were Tom's collection of toy boats, which sailed around four white porcelain islands and a white porcelain mainland on a porcelain sea: the islands were the legs of the pipes, The continent is the toilet base. Tom finally led them back downstairs, where they sat under a collage of credit cards facing a three-dimensional drawing of John and Robert Kennedy with gold-rimmed clouds in the background.The caption below the painting reads: Brothers go to heaven together. "Do you like Tom's decoration? What do you think? Okay?" "Fine!" said Stu. "Tell me, those birds downstairs... aren't you scared?" "No," said Tom in amazement, "they're full of sawdust!" Nick handed Ralph a note. "Tom, Nick wants to know if you want to be hypnotized again. Like Stan did that time. This time is important, not just a game. Nick says he'll explain why later." "Okay," said Tom, "you... are... sleepy... aren't you?" "Yes, that's right," said Ralph. "Do you want me to look at the watch again? I don't mind. When you rock the watch back and forth, you know? It's... sleepy..." Tom looked at them suspiciously, "but I don't feel very sleepy. Not sleepy at all. I went to bed early last night. Tom Curran always goes to bed early because there's no TV to watch." Stu said softly, "Tom, do you want to see an elephant?" Tom's eyes closed instantly.His head drooped slightly forward, breathing slowly but deeply.Stu watched all this in amazement.Nick told him the key words, but he didn't know whether to believe that it would work, let alone that the effect would be so immediate. "It's like stuffing a chicken's head under its wings," exclaimed Ralph. Nick hands Stu his "script" for the meeting.Stu gave Nick a deep look.Nick looked at him for a while, then nodded solemnly, motioning for Stu to continue. "Tom, can you hear me?" Stu asked. "I can hear you," said Tom.The sound of his voice made Stu look up in surprise. It was not Tom's usual voice, but Stu couldn't tell why it was different.It reminded him of what happened when he was 18 years old and graduated from high school.The friends he'd been to school with all along were in the locker room before graduation, at least four of them had been with him since the first day of freshman year, and many more had been around the same.In that instant, he saw how much their faces had changed over the years.He was standing on the tiled floor of the dressing room, his black robe in hand.The change in his eyes had horrified him then, and he still shuddered thinking about it now.The faces he saw were no longer the faces of children...but not yet the faces of adults.They are the faces of Limbo, between two well-defined states.This voice from the depths of Tom's subconscious, like those faces, only infinitely sadder.It was the voice of someone who had been forever rejected, Stu thought. But they were waiting for him to go on, and he had to go on. "I'm Stu Redman, Tom." "Yes, Stu Redman." "Nick is here." "Nick is here." "Ralph Brentner is here too." "Yes, and Ralph." "We are your friends." "I know." "There's one thing we want you to do, Tom. It's for the district. It's dangerous." "Danger……" The look of doubt flitted across Tom's face like the shadow of a cloud across a midsummer wheat field. "Must I be afraid? I must..." His voice was getting thinner, and he fell silent with a long sigh. Stu looked at Nick in bewilderment. Nick lip-synced "yes." "It's him," said Tom, with a sigh of horror. It was like the sound of a dead winter wind blowing through bare oak trees.Stu felt a shudder in his heart again.Ralph turned pale. "Who is it, Tom?" Stu asked softly. "Flag. His name is Randall Flagg. The man in black. You want me to..." He gave another long, painful sigh. "How did you know him, Tom?" The question wasn't scripted. "In the dream... I saw his face in the dream." "Have you seen him?" "yes……" "What does he look like, Tom?" Tom didn't speak for a long time.Stu thought he wasn't going to answer, and was about to continue asking "scripted" questions when Tom said, "He looked like anybody on the street, but when he grinned, the birds jumped over the phone wires." Fall and die. When he looks at you a certain way, you fuck the shit. He spits and the grass turns yellow. He's always out there. He's out of time. He doesn't know himself. He has 1000 A devil's name. Jesus beat him to a herd of pigs. He was countless. He was afraid of us. We were in it. He knew magic. He could call wolves, and he lived with crows. He was from the wilderness The king. But he's afraid of us. He's afraid...inside." Tom fell silent. The three of them looked at each other, their faces as pale as tombstones.Palver snatched the hat from his head and crumpled it with his hands convulsively.Nick covered his eyes with one hand.Stu's throat seemed to turn to dry glass. He is countless.He is the king of the wild land. "Do you know anything else about him?" Stu asked in a low voice. "I just know I'm scared of him too, but I'll do what you want me to do. But Tom... is really scared." He let out that sigh of fear again. "Tom," said Ralph suddenly, "do you know if Mama Abagil...is still alive?" Ralph's expression was extremely tense, like a desperate gambler. "She's still alive." Ralph leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath. "But she's not right with God," said Tom again. "Not right with God? Why, Tom?" "She was in the wilderness, God lifted her up from the wilderness, no matter it was in broad daylight, or when she dreamed back at midnight, she was not afraid of any horror... Poisonous snakes will not bite her, and bees will not sting her... …But she and God are not right. It was not the hand of Moses that brought the water from the rock. It was not Mama Abagil that sent the weasel back on an empty stomach. She is poor. She will see, but she sees It will be too late. Someone will die. He will die. She will die on the bank where she shouldn't be. She..." "Stop him," groaned Ralph, "can you please stop him?" "Tom," Stu said. "Hey." "Are you still the same Tom Nick met in Oklahoma? Are you the same Tom we knew when you were awake?" "Yes, but I'm more than Tom." "I do not understand." He moved his body, and his face was peaceful and peaceful in his deep sleep. "I'm Tom of God." Stu lost all composure and almost dropped Nick's note on the floor. "You said you'd do what we want." "yes." "But do you understand that... do you think you'll come back?" "That's not all I can see. Where should I go?" "West side." Tom groaned.The sound made Stu shudder.What are we sending him for?Maybe he does.Maybe he'd been there himself, in Vermont, in the maze of corridors, when the echoes sounded like footsteps following him.And it's getting closer. "West side," said Tom, "West side, all right." "Tom, we sent you to look. Then you come back." "Come back and tell you what you saw." "can you do it?" "Yes. If they don't catch me and kill me." Stu was shaking—they were all shaking. "Tom, go yourself. Go west. Can you find the west?" "That's where the sun goes down." "Yes. If anyone asks why you're there, say this: They kicked you out of the land of the free..." "Get me out. Get Tom out of the street." "...Because you are mentally handicapped." "They kicked Tom out because Tom was retarded." "...also because you can have a woman, and women can have idiot children." "An idiot like Tom." Stu's stomach was churning uncontrollably, and his head was like a sweaty lump of iron.He seemed to be struggling with a painful hangover. "Now repeat: What do you say when someone asks you why you're on the west side." "They kicked Tom out because he's retarded. No way. They were afraid I'd have a woman, like you in bed with your bitches, and make her have an idiot child." "Yes, Tom. So..." "Get me out," he said in a soft, mournful voice, "and get Tom out of his nice house and out on the street." Stu wiped his eyes with a trembling hand.He looks at Nick.It seemed to him that Nick had become two, and then three. "Nick, I don't think I can see it through." Nick looked at Ralph.Ralph turned pale and could only shake his head. "Hold on," said Tom unexpectedly, "and don't leave me in the dark." Stu forced himself to continue. "Tom, do you know what a full moon looks like?" "I know...it's big and round." "Not a half moon, and not a great half moon." "No," said Tom. "When you see that big full moon, you turn back and go east. Come back to us. Come back to your house, Tom." "Yes, I'll come back when I see it," agreed Tom. "I'll come home." "When you come back, you will walk at night and sleep during the day." "Walking at night, sleeping during the day." "Yes. And you have to try not to let anyone see you." "Keep out of sight." "But, Tom, someone might see you." "Yes, someone might see it." "If it's a man who sees you, Tom, kill him." "Kill him," said Tom hesitantly. "If there is more than one person, run away." "Run away." Tom must have said more. "But it's better not to be seen at all. Can you repeat all this again?" "Yes. Come back when the moon is full. Not a half moon, not a new moon. Walk at night, sleep during the day. Don't let anyone see me. If a person sees me, kill him. If more than one person sees me , run away. But better not let anyone see me." "Fine. I hope you wake up in a few seconds. Okay?" "Row." Stu sat back in his chair with a trembling sigh. "Thank God, it's over." Nick agreed with his eyes. "Nick, did you know this was going to happen?" Nick shook his head. "How did he know these things?" Stu muttered. Nick gestured for his sticky note.Stu handed it to him, glad he didn't have to use it anymore.His fingers were already soaked with sweat on the page where Nick had written the script, and it looked almost transparent.Nick wrote a few words and handed them to Ralph.After reading with his lips moving slowly, Ralph handed it to Stu again. "There are people in history who think madmen and fools are close to gods. I don't think what he said will actually help us, but I know he scared the hell out of me. He talked about magic. How do you fight magic?" Ralph muttered, "I don't understand any of this stuff. I don't even want to think about the things he said about Abagil's mother. Stu, wake him up, and let's get out of here." Ral Husband almost cried. Stu leaned forward again. "Tom?" "Hey." "Would you like to see elephants?" Tom's eyes opened at once, and he looked around, and said, "I told you it wouldn't work. It wouldn't work. Tom won't doze off in broad daylight." Nick handed Stu a piece of paper, and Stu glanced at it and said to Tom, "Nick said you did a good job." "Really? Do I have the big top again like I used to?" Nick felt ashamed and thought: No, Tom, you've played the trick better this time. Stu said, "No, Tom, we've come to ask you for help." "Me? Help? No problem! I love helping!" "Tom, this is dangerous. We want you to go west and come back and tell us what you saw." "All right, no problem," said Tom without hesitation.But Stu thinks he sees for a moment a shadow pass over Tom's face... and stay behind his honest blue eyes. "when?" Stu put a hand lightly on Tom's neck, wondering what the hell he was doing here.How are you going to figure these things out if you're not Mama Abagil and you're not on God's hotline?He said softly, "Soon, very soon." Franny was preparing dinner when Stu returned to the apartment. "Harold was here," said Franny. "I asked him to stay and eat, but he must go." "Oh." She looked at him seriously. "Stuart Redman, who provoked you?" "Tom Curran, I guess." He told her everything. They sit down to dinner.法兰妮问道：“这是怎么回事？”她脸色苍白，也没吃下去东西，只是把盘子里的饭拨来拨去。 斯图说：“谁知道。我猜这可能是一种……看事情的方式。我不知道为什么我们没有在来的路上都做了梦之后退却，却在想到汤姆·科伦受到催眠会产生幻觉时打退堂鼓。如果它们不是一种看事情的方法的话，我不知道那是什么。” “但那似乎是很久之前的事情了……至少我觉得已经很久了。” “我也有这样的感觉。”斯图说道，这时他发现自己也在把自己的饭拨来拨去。 “斯图，你看，我知道我们以前决定尽可能不在委员会的会议之外的场合谈论委员会的事务。你说过我们一谈起来就会争个没完没了，你肯定说对了。你请多隆的时候，我一个字都没说，是不是？” He smiled. “法兰妮，你确实什么都没说。” “但我不得不问你，在今天下午的事情发生之后，你是否仍然认为派汤姆·科伦去西边是个好主意？” 斯图说：“我不知道。”他把盘子推开，盘里的饭几乎还没有动过。他站起来，走到厅里的抽屉前，找到一包雪茄。他已经减到一天抽三到四根烟。他点着了一根，把呛人的烟深深地吸进肺里，又吐了出来。“从积极的一面来看，他的故事够简单，也够可信了。我们把他赶出来是因为他弱智。没有人能让他改变这个说法。如果他好好地回来，我们就能够把他催眠——打个响指的时间他就会被催眠——他会告诉我们他看到的一切，重要的不重要的都会说的。很可能他比别的目击者更好。我毫不怀疑。” “如果他好好地回来的话。” “是的，如果这样的话。我们给他的指令是只在夜里向东走，白天躲起来。如果他看见的人多于一个，就跑。但是如果只有一个人看见他，就杀死他。” “斯图，你们怎么能这样！” “我们当然得这样！”他转过身面对着她，愤怒地说，“我们不是在玩游戏，法兰妮！你一定知道他会遇到什么……还有法官……还有戴纳……如果他们在那里被抓住！你为什么从一开始就这样反对这个主意？” “行了，”她平静地说，“行了，斯图。” “不，这不行！”他说，把刚点着的烟重重地按在陶瓷烟灰缸里。一片火星飞了起来，有几个火星落在他的手背上，被他粗鲁地甩掉了。“派一个弱智的孩子去为我们战斗是不对的，把别人当棋盘上的小卒一样推来拨去是不对的，向黑手党老大一样命令别人杀人是不对的，但是我想不出我们还能怎样。我想不出。如果我们不能发现他在搞什么，那很可能明年春天他就会把整个自由之邦变成一团巨大的蘑菇云。” "Okay, okay." 他慢慢地握紧了拳头。“我在对你叫喊。对不起。法兰妮，我没有权利这样做。” “没什么。不是你打开了潘多拉的盒子。” “我想，我们都在打开它。”他闷闷不乐地说，又从抽屉里的烟盒里拿出一棵烟。“无论如何，当我给他那个……叫它什么好呢？当我说他应该杀死任何一个遇到他的人时，他皱了一下眉头。这种表情一瞬即逝，我甚至不知道拉尔夫和尼克是否看到了。但我看到了。看上去就像是他在想，'我明白你的意思，但是到时候我自有主张。'” “我以前看到过书上说，你无法让人们在被催眠时做他们醒着时不做的事情。一个人不会仅仅因为被催眠而做出违反自己道德准则的事情。” Stu nodded. “是啊，我也这么想。但要是这个弗拉格在整个东部边界竖起一条防线呢？如果我是他，我会这样做的。如果汤姆向西走时撞上了这条防线，他可以用他的故事掩护自己。但如果他向东走时遇到他们，就是你死我活的事了。如果汤姆不愿杀人，他很可能会被杀死的。” “你可能过虑了，”法兰妮说，“我是说，如果有一道防线的话，防守应该是相当疏松的，是不是？” “是的，大概是每50英里一个人。除非他们的人手是我们的5倍。” “所以，除非他们已经起用了一些非常精密的仪器，就像间谍片里的那些雷达、红外之类的东西，否则汤姆很可能就平安地走过了他们的防线，不是吗？” “这是我们的希望。但……” “但你良心不安。”她柔声说道。 “说到底就是这回事吗？……也许是吧。亲爱的，哈罗德想干什么？” “他留下了一些测量图。就是他的搜索委员会已经找过阿巴盖尔妈妈的地区。不管怎么说，哈罗德一直在搞葬礼的具体细节，同时还在监管委员会。他看上去很累，但他在自由之邦的工作任务不是唯一的原因。似乎他还在搞别的事情。” “别的什么？” “哈罗德有了一个女人。” 斯图扬起了眉头。 “无论如何，这是他坚持不留下吃晚饭的原因。你猜猜她是谁？” 斯图对着天花板眨眨眼。“哈罗德可能跟谁鬼混呢？我想想……” “你怎么这么说话！你以为我们在干什么？”她作势要给他一个耳光，他咧嘴笑着仰身躲过。 “挺好玩的，不是吗？我投降了。是谁？” “纳迪娜·克罗斯。” “那个有白头发的女人？” "It's her." “天啊，她一定有他年纪的两倍大。” 法兰妮说：“我怀疑哈罗德现在根本不会顾及这些。” “拉里知道吗？” “我不知道，更不关心。那个叫克罗斯的女人就算以前是，现在也不是拉里的女人了。” “哦。”斯图说。他很高兴哈罗德为自己找到了点小小的恋爱事件，但对此并不特别感兴趣。“哈罗德对搜索委员会怎么看？他对你说了吗？” “你了解哈罗德这个人的。他总是微笑着，但……并不抱太大希望。我猜这是他把时间几乎都花在葬礼细节上的原因。他们现在叫他老鹰，你知道吗？” "real?" “我今天听说的。我问了才知道他们在说谁。”她沉思了一会儿，然后笑了。 “你笑什么？”斯图问。 她伸出脚来。她的脚上穿着低帮旅游鞋，鞋底的花纹是圆圈和线条。“他称赞我的旅游鞋，”她说，“这是不是有点古怪？” “是你古怪。”他笑嘻嘻地说。 哈罗德天亮前就醒了过来，他感到腹股沟隐隐做痛，但并非完全不舒服。他起来时打了个寒战。现在清晨越来越冷了，虽然才8月22日，按日历秋天还有1个月呢。 但他的胯下火热。仅仅看着她熟睡时优美的曲线就让他热血沸腾。如果他把她叫醒她也不会介意的……也许她会介意，但她不会反对的。他仍然不知道她那双黑眼睛后面到底有着怎样的想法，他有点怕她。 他没有把她叫醒，而是悄悄穿衣起床。他不打算和纳迪娜鬼混，虽然他心里其实很想这样做。 他需要做的是单独去个地方思考问题。 他穿戴整齐，左手拿着靴子，在门口停了下来。屋子里有一点凉，在缓慢的穿衣过程中，他的欲望平息了。现在他闻到了屋子里的味道，一股不太好闻的味道。 她说过，这只是一件小事，没有也行。也许真是这样。她可以用嘴和双手做出几乎难以置信的事情。但如果这真是那样的一件小事的话，为什么这个屋子里有一种他总是和他所有难熬的日子联系在一起的带点酸的馊味？ 也许你希望它不好。 令人心烦意乱的想法。他走了出去，轻轻带上了门。 门一关，纳迪娜的眼睛就睁开了。她坐起来，若有所思地看着门，又躺下了。她的身体由于一阵阵的欲望而疼痛。就像是痛经一样。她想（她并没有意识到她自己的想法和哈罗德的是多么相像），如果这只是那样小的一件事，为什么她觉得这样？昨晚她一度不得不咬住嘴唇才没有喊叫出来：快点结束这个疯狂的游戏吧！ 当时他躺在她的腿之间，她的话已经快要出口了，这时她抬起头来，看见窗口有一张脸。一瞬间她的欲望全都灰飞烟灭。 那是他的脸，正对她狞笑。 一声尖叫已经到了她的嗓子眼……这时那张脸不见了。那张脸只是发黑的玻璃上的影子和尘土污迹混在一起构成的不停摇动的图案。就像小孩子有时以为自己在壁橱里看见了妖怪，有时以为妖怪狡猾地躲在角落里的玩具抽屉里。 That's it. 只不过并不是这样，即使现在，在清晨第一缕令人清醒的带着寒意的光线中，她也无法装作不是那样。装作不是那样是危险的。那就是他，他在警告她。未来的丈夫正在监视他的意中人。失贞的新娘会被拒绝的。 她注视着天花板，心想：我做的事情不算是失贞。我穿得像个街头妓女，但那根本没什么。 这就足以使人怀疑自己的未婚夫到底是什么人。 纳迪娜长久地凝视着天花板。 哈罗德冲了杯速溶咖啡，皱着眉头喝了下去，然后拿出两个凉的比萨饼放在前门台阶上。他坐下来吃，此时晨曦悄悄降临大地。 回想起来，最近这两天他过的简直像是疯狂的狂欢节。浑浑噩噩中，他坐了橘黄色的卡车，魏查克拍着他的肩膀叫他老鹰（他们现在都这样叫他），还有死尸，无穷无尽的死尸，然后是从死亡中回到家里，无穷无尽地变态地做爱。足以让人头昏脑涨。 但现在，坐在冰凉得像大理石墓碑一样的前门台阶上，那杯可怕的速溶咖啡在胃里晃荡着，他大口吞着味道像锯末的凉比萨饼，能够思考了。他感到在疯狂地过了一个季度之后，他不再疯狂，头脑清醒了。他忽然想到，他始终把自己看作一群极其野蛮的野人中的一个文明人，最近却几乎很少思考。他不是被思想引导，而是被欲望控制了。 即使他把目光投向弗拉蒂龙斯时，还是想起了法兰妮·戈德史密斯。他现在能肯定，那天是法兰妮进了他的屋子。他找了个借口去她和雷德曼一起住的地方，真正的目的是看看她的鞋子。他发现，她穿的旅游鞋和他在地下室地板上发现的脚印完全一样。图案是圆圈和线条而不是普通的波浪线。宝贝，毫无疑问，就是你。 他想，他不费吹灰之力就能搞明白是怎么回事。她不知怎么发现他看过她的日记。他一定是在哪一页上留下了印记……说不定不止一页。所以她来到他家里，想找到他对看到的东西的感想的蛛丝马迹。写下来的东西。 当然，那就是他的账本。但他现在可以肯定，她没找到。他的账本明白地说他计划杀死斯图尔特·雷德曼。如果她发现了这类东西，她一定会告诉斯图的。即使她没有告诉斯图，他也不认为她还能像昨天那样轻松自然地接待他。 他吃完了最后一个比萨饼，被它冰凉的霜和更凉的果冻夹心的味道弄得直皱眉。他决定走到公共汽车站去，不骑车。回来时，特德·魏查克或诺里斯会把他捎回来的。他出发时把拉链一直拉到下巴，好抵挡凉气。再过1个小时左右，这股凉气就没有了。他走过一座座关着窗帘的空房子。在阿拉帕赫区走过6个街区后，他开始看见一个个门上醒目的粉笔×记号。这又是他的主意。丧葬委员会检查了所有有×记号的房子，把里面所有的死尸都拖走了。×，一个叉子。住在有叉子的房子里的人们永远地走了。再有1个月，×记号就会布满整个博尔德，标志着一个时代的结束。 现在是该思考的时候了，并且需要仔细地思考。似乎自从他遇到纳迪娜后，他实际上就停止了思考……但也许他其实在那之前就不再思考。 他想，我看了她的日记是因为我很伤心，而且嫉妒。然后她闯进了我的家，一定：是在找我自己的日记，但她没找到。但仅仅是有人闯进了家门就已经是足够大的报复了。这显然使他惊慌失措。也许他们现在打了平手，可以就此住手了。 他其实已经不再想得到法兰妮了，不是吗？……不是吗？ 他感到胸中的憎恶像火炭在燃烧。maybe not.但这并没有改变他们把他驱逐出去的事实。虽然纳迪娜很少说来到他身边的原因，但哈罗德感到她也是被摒弃、被拒绝的。他们是一对外人，而外人酝酿阴谋。也许这是使他们保持理智的唯一原因。哈罗德想，记住把这个写在账本里……这时他已快进城区了。 在山那边，有一个外人组成的团体。当一个地方有足够多的外人的时候，就会发生神秘的变化，你就变成了自己人。做自己人就会感到温暖。这只是，一件小事，做自己人，感到温暖，但其实这又是那样重要。大概是世界上最重要的事情。 也许他不打算打个平手就住手。也许他不想满足于平手，满足于把开一个20世纪的收尸车当作职业，为自己出的主意得到毫无意义的感谢信，还要再等5年等到贝特曼从他们宝贵的委员会退休，他才能进去……要是他们又一次决定跳过他呢？由于这并不只是一个年龄问题，他们很可能会又一次这样做的。他们选了一个该死的又聋又哑的人，而这个人只比哈罗德大几岁。 这时他心中的憎恨灼热地燃烧起来。思考，当然，思考——说起来容易，有时做起来也不难……但当你从那些统治世界的野蛮人那里只得到了一阵哈哈大笑，甚至更糟，得到了一封感谢信的时候，思考又有什么用处呢？ 他走到了公共汽车站。天还早，那里还没有人。门上有一张告示，说25日又有一个公众集会。公众集会？公众马戏。 候车室里悬挂着旅游招贴画和宠物的广告，以及一艘该死的大观光游艇的画，那艘游艇在各地游弋，亚特兰大、新奥尔良、旧金山、纳什维尔，随便什么地方。他坐下来，注视着发黑的弹球机、可乐机、卖闻起来有点像死鱼的咖啡机，他点了一颗雪茄，把火柴棍扔在地板上。 他们接受了宪法。Really.这是多么多么过分。看在上帝份上，他们甚至唱了《星条旗永不落》。但假如哈罗德·劳德站了起来，不是为了提出建设性意见，而是为了告诉他们在瘟疫过后的第一个年头的事实呢？ 女士们，先生们，我的名字叫哈罗德·劳德，我来到这里是为了告诉你们，用老歌里的话说，随着时间的流逝，基本的东西仍然有效。就像达尔文一样。朋友们，邻居们，下一次你们站在这里唱国歌的时候，好好想想这个：美国死了，死透了，就像雅各布·马利、巴迪·霍利和哈里·Ｓ·杜鲁门一样死了。但达尔文先生提出的原理仍然富有活力。当你们回想宪法的美好时，也花一点时间想一想兰德尔·弗拉格，西边的人。我很怀疑他是否有空搞公众集会或是用最民主的方式讨论批准一个桃子的真正意义。相反，他一直致力于最基本的事情，他的达尔文，准备用你们的死尸来擦拭伟大宇宙的柜台。女士们，先生们，请让我谦恭地建议，当我们努力点亮灯的时候，当我们等待一个医生来找到我们快活的小蜂房的时候，他也许正在忙于寻找有飞行员执照的人，让他飞越博尔德上空。当我们在激烈地讨论谁将进入街道清理委员会时，他一定已经着手建立枪炮清理委员会，更不必说迫击炮、导弹基地，甚至还可能有细菌战中心。当然，我们知道这个国家里没有细菌或生物战中心，这是这个国家的伟大之处——怎样的国家，哈哈——但你们应该意识到，当你们忙于把所有的大篷车围成一个圈时，他在…… “嘿，老鹰，你加班了？” 哈罗德微笑着抬起头来。“是啊，我想我加了点班，”他对魏查克说，“我进来时给你算了时间，你已经挣了6块钱了。” 魏查克大笑起来。“老鹰，你是个怪人，你知道吗？” “知道，”哈罗德仍然微笑着表示同意。他开始重新系鞋带。“是个不可捉摸的人。”