The Shining 原版小说-第53部分

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Danny's　height　when　he　was　standing　up。　Jack　hunkered　down　and　looked　in　the　


　
　
third…floor　windows。　
　　〃The　giant　has　e　to　eat　you　all　up　in　your　beds；〃　he　said　hollowly。　〃Kiss　
your　Triple　A　rating　goodbye。〃　But　that　wasn't　funny；　either。　You　could　open　the　
house　simply　by　pulling　it　apart　—　it　opened　on　a　hidden　hinge。　The　inside　was　a　
disappointment。　The　walls　were　painted；　but　the　place　was　mostly　hollow。　But　of　
course　it　would　have　to　be；　he　told　himself；　or　how　else　could　the　kids　get　
inside？　What　play　furniture　might　go　with　the　place　in　the　summer　was　gone；　
probably　packed　away　in　the　equipment　shed。　He　closed　it　up　and　heard　the　small　
click　as　the　latch　closed。　
　　He　walked　over　to　the　slide；　set　the　hedge…clipper　down；　and　after　a　glance　
back　at　the　driveway　to　make　sure　Wendy　and　Danny　hadn't　returned；　he　climbed　to　
the　top　and　sat　down。　This　was　the　big　kids'　slide；　but　the　fit　was　still　
unfortably　tight　for　his　grownup　ass。　How　long　had　it　been　since　he　had　been　
on　a　slide？　Twenty　years？　It　didn't　seem　possible　it　could　be　that　long；　it　
didn't　feel　that　long；　but　it　had　to　be　that；　or　more。　He　could　remember　his　old　
man　taking　him　to　the　park　in　Berlin　when　he　had　been　Danny's　age；　and　he　had　
done　the　whole　bit　　slide；　swings；　teeter…totters；　everything。　He　and　the　old　man　
would　have　a　hotdog　lunch　and　buy　peanuts　from　the　man　with　the　cart　afterward。　
They　would　sit　on　a　bench　to　eat　them　and　dusky　clouds　of　pigeons　would　flock　
around　their　feet。　
　　〃Goddam　scavenger　birds；〃　his　dad　would　say；　〃don't　you　feed　them；　Jacky。〃　But　
they　would　both　end　up　feeding　them；　and　giggling　at　the　way　they　ran　after　the　
nuts；　the　greedy　way　they　ran　after　the　nuts。　Jack　didn't　think　the　old　man　had　
ever　taken　his　brothers　to　the　park。　Jack　had　been　his　favorite；　and　even　so　
Jack　had　taken　his　lumps　when　the　old　man　was　drunk；　which　was　a　lot　of　the　
time。　But　Jack　had　loved　him　for　as　long　as　he　was　able；　long　after　the　rest　of　
the　family　could　only　hate　and　fear　him。　
　　He　pushed　off　with　his　hands　and　went　to　the　bottom；　but　the　trip　was　
unsatisfying。　The　slide；　unused；　had　too　much　friction　and　no　really　pleasant　
speed　could　be　built　up。　And　his　ass　was　just　too　big。　His　adult　feet　thumped　
into　the　slight　dip　where　thousands　of　children's　feet　had　landed　before　him。　He　
stood　up；　brushed　at　the　seat　of　his　pants；　and　looked　at　the　hedge…clipper。　But　
instead　of　going　back　to　it　he　went　to　the　swings；　which　were　also　a　
disappointment。　The　chains　had　built　up　rust　since　the　close　of　the　season；　and　
they　squealed　like　things　in　pain。　Jack　promised　himself　he　would　oil　them　in　
the　spring。　
　　You　better　stop　it；　he　advised　himself。　You're　not　a　kid　anymore。　You　don't　
need　this　place　to　prove　it。　
　　But　he　went　on　to　the　cement　rings　　they　were　too　small　for　him　and　he　passed　
them　up　　and　then　to　the　security　fence　which　marked　the　edge　of　the　grounds。　He　
curled　his　fingers　through　the　links　and　looked　through；　the　sun　crosshatching　
shadow…lines　on　his　face　like　a　man　behind　bars。　He　recognized　the　similarity　
himself　and　he　shook　the　chain　link；　put　a　harried　expression　on　his　face；　and　
whispered：　〃Lemme　outta　here！　Lemme　outta　here！〃　But　for　the　third　time；　not　
funny。　It　was　time　to　get　back　to　work。　
　　That　was　when　he　heard　the　sound　behind　him。　
　　He　turned　around　quickly；　frowning；　embarrassed；　wondering　if　someone　had　seen　
him　fooling　around　down　here　in　kiddie　country。　His　eyes　ticked　off　the　slides；　


　
　
the　opposing　angles　of　the　seesaws；　the　swings　in　which　only　the　wind　sat。　
Beyond　all　that　to　the　gate　and　the　low　fence　that　divided　the　playground　from　
the　lawn　and　the　topiary　　the　lions　gathered　protectively　around　the　path；　the　
rabbit　bent　over　as　if　to　crop　grass；　the　buffalo　ready　to　charge；　the　crouching　
dog。　Beyond　them；　the　putting　green　and　the　hotel　itself。　From　here　he　could　
even　see　the　raised　lip　of　the　roque　court　on　the　Overlook's　western　side。　
　　Everything　was　just　as　it　had　been。　So　why　had　the　flesh　of　his　face　and　hands　
begun　to　creep；　and　why　had　the　hair　along　the　back　of　his　neck　begun　to　stand　
up；　as　if　the　flesh　back　there　had　suddenly　tightened？　
　　He　squinted　up　at　the　hotel　again；　but　that　was　no　answer。　It　simply　stood　
there；　its　windows　dark；　a　tiny　thread　of　smoke　curling　from　the　chimney；　ing　
from　the　banked　fire　in　the　lobby。　
　　（Buster；　you　better　get　going　or　they're　going　to　e　back　and　wonder　if　you　
were　doing　anything　all　the　while。）　
　　Sure；　get　going。　Because　the　snow　was　ing　and　he　had　to　get　the　damn　hedges　
trimmed。　It　was　part　of　the　agreement。　Besides；　they　wouldn't　dare　
　　（Who　wouldn't？　What　wouldn't？　Dare　do　what？）　
　　He　began　to　walk　back　toward　the　hedge…clipper　at　the　foot　of　the　big　kids'　
slide；　and　the　sound　of　his　feet　crunching　on　the　crushed　stone　seemed　
abnormally　loud。　Now　the　flesh　on　his　testicles　had　begun　to　creep　too；　and　his　
buttocks　felt　hard　and　heavy；　like　stone。　
　　（Jesus；　what　is　this？）　
　　He　stopped　by　the　hedge…clipper；　but　made　no　move　to　pick　it　up。　Yes；　there　
was　something　different。　In　the　topiary。　And　it　was　so　simple；　so　easy　to　see；　
that　he　just　wasn't　picking　it　up。　e　on；　he　scolded　himself；　you　just　trimmed　
the　fucking　rabbit；　so　what's　the　
　　（that's　it）　
　　His　breath　stopped　in　his　throat。　
　　The　rabbit　was　down　on　all　fours；　cropping　grass。　Its　belly　was　against　the　
ground。　But　not　ten　minutes　ago　it　had　been　up　on　its　hind　legs；　of　course　it　
had　been；　he　had　trimmed　its　ears　。。。　and　its　belly。　
　　His　eyes　darted　to　the　dog。　When　he　had　e　down　the　path　it　had　been　sitting　
up；　as　if　begging　for　a　sweet。　Now　it　was　crouched；　head　tilted；　the　clipped　
wedge　of　mouth　seeming　to　snarl　silently。　And　the　lions　—　　
　　（oh　no；　baby；　oh　no；　uh…uh；　no　way）　
　　the　lions　were　closer　to　the　path。　The　two　on　his　right　had　subtly　changed　
positions；　had　drawn　closer　together。　The　tail　of　the　one　on　the　left　now　almost　
jutted　out　over　the　path。　When　he　had　e　past　them　and　through　the　gate；　that　
lion　had　been　on　the　right　and　he　was　quite　sure　its　tail　had　been　curled　around　
it。　
　　They　were　no　longer　protecting　the　path；　they　were　blocking　it。　
　　Jack　put　his　hand　suddenly　over　his　eyes　and　then　took　it　away。　The　picture　
didn't　change。　A　soft　sigh；　too　quiet　to　be　a　groan；　escaped　him。　In　his　
drinking　days　he　had　always　been　afraid　of　something　like　this　happening。　But　
when　you　were　a　heavy　drinker　you　called　it　the　DTs　—　good　old　Ray　Milland　in　
Lost　Weekend；　seeing　the　bugs　ing　out　of　the　walls。　
　　What　did　you　call　it　when　you　were　cold　sober？　
　　The　question　was　meant　to　be　rhetorical；　but　his　mind　answered　it　


　
　
　　（you　call　it　insanity）　
　　nevertheless。　
　　Staring　at　the　hedge　animals；　he　realized　something　had　changed　while　he　had　
his　hand　over　his　eyes。　The　dog　had　moved　closer。　No　longer　crouching；　it　seemed　
to　be　in　a　running　posture；　haunches　flexed；　one　front　leg　forward；　the　other　
back。　The　hedge　mouth　yawned　wider；　the　pruned　sticks　looked　sharp　and　vicious。　
And　now　he　fancied　he　could　see　faint　eye　indentations　in　the　greenery　as　well。　
Looking　at　him。　
　　Why　do　they　have　to　be　trimmed？　he　thought　hysterically。　They're　perfect。　
　　Another　soft　sound。　He　involuntarily　backed　up　a　step　when　he　looked　at　the　
lions。　One　of　the　two　on　the　right　seemed　to　have　drawn　slightly　ahead　of　the　
other。　Its　head　was　lowered。　One　paw　had　stolen　almost　all　the　way　to　the　low　
fence。　Dear　God；　what　next？　
　　（next　it　leaps　over　and　gobbles　you　up　like　something　in　an　evil　nursery　
fable）　
　　It　was　like　that　game　they　had　played　when　they　were　kids；　red　light。　One　
person　was　〃it；〃　and　while　he　turned　his　back　and　counted　to　ten；　the　other　
players　crept　forward。　When　〃it〃　got　to　ten；　he　whirled　around　and　if　he　caught　
anyone　moving；　they　were　out　of　the　game。　The　others　remained　frozen　in　statue　
postures　until　〃it〃　turned　his　back　and　counted　again。　They　got　closer　and　
closer；　and　at　last；　somewhere　between　five　and　ten；　you　would　feel　a　hand　on　
your　back。。。　
　　Gravel　rattled　on　the　path。　
　　He　jerked　his　head　around　to　look　at　the　dog　and　it　was　halfwa