sk.dreamcatcher-第110部分

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　　　　'Get　off　me！'　Beaver　cries。　'You're　crushin　me！　Jesus…Christ…bananas！　For　God's　sake…'
　　　　'Duddits　knew　her；'　Pete　says。　He　has　lost　interest　in　their　foolery；　doesn't　feel　much　of　their　high　spirits　anyway　（Pete　is　perhaps　the　only　one　of　them　who　senses　the　big　changes　that　are　ing）。　He's　looking　at　the　notice…board　again。　'We　knew　her；　too。　She　was　the　one　who　always　stood　outside　The　Petard　Academy。　〃Hi；　Duddie；〃　she'd　go。'　When　he　says　Hi；　Duddie；　Pete's　voice　goes　up　high；　bees　momentarily　girlish　in　a　way　that　is　sweet　rather　than　mocking。　And　although　Pete　isn't　a　particularly　good　mimic；　Henry　knows　that　voice　at　once。　He　remembers　the　girl；　who　had　fluffy　blonde　hair　and　great　brown　eyes　and　scabbed　knees　and　a　white　plastic　purse　which　contained　her　lunch　and　her　BarbieKen。　That's　what　she　always　called　them；　BarbieKen；　as　if　they　were　a　single　entity。　　　　
　　　　Jonesy　and　Beav　also　know　who　Pete's　imitating；　and　Henry　knows；　too。　There　is　that　bond　among　them；　it's　been　among　them　for　years　now。　Them　and　Duddits。　Jonesy　and　the　Beav　can't　remember　the　little　blonde　girl's　name　any　more　than　Henry　can　only　that　her　last　one　was　something　impossibly　long　and　clunky。　And　she　had　a　crush　on　the　Dudster；　which　was　why　she　always　waited　for　him　outside　The　Retard　Academy。
　　　　The　three　of　them　in　their　graduation　gowns　gather　around　Pete　and　look　at　the　DERRY　DOIN's　board。
　　　　As　always；　the　board　is　crammed　with　notices　…　bake　sales　and　car　washes；　tryouts　for　the　munity　Players　version　of　The　Fantasticks；　summer　classes　at　Fenster；　the　local　junior　college；　plus　plenty　of　hand…printed　student　ads　…　buy　this；　sell　that；　need　ride　to　Boston　after　graduation；　looking　for　roommate　in　Providence。
　　　　And；　way　up　in　the　corner；　a　photo　of　a　smiling　girl　with　acres　of　blonde　hair　（frizzy　rather　than　fluffy　now）　and　wide；　slightly　puzzled　eyes。　She's　no　longer　a　little　girl　…　Henry　is　surprised　again　and　again　by　how　the　children　he　grew　up　with　（including　himself）　have　disappeared　…　but　he　would　know　those　dark　and　puzzled　eyes　anywhere。
　　　　MISSING；　says　the　single　block…capital　word　under　the　photo。
　　　　And　below　that；　in　slightly　smaller　type：　JOSETTE　RINKENHAUER；　LAST　SEEN　STRAWFORD　PARK　SOFTBALL　FIELD；　JUNE　7；　1982。　Below　this　there　is　more　copy；　but　Henry　doesn't　bother　reading　it。　Instead　he　reflects　on　how　odd　Derry　is　about　missing　children　…　not　like　other　towns　at　all。　This　is　June　eighth；　which　means　the　Rinkenhauer　girl　has　only　been　gone　a　day；　and　vet　this　poster　has　been　tacked　way　up　in　the　er　of　the　notice…board　（or　moved　there）；　like　somebody's　afterthought。　Nor　is　that　all。　There　was　nothing　in　the　paper　this　morning　…　Henry　knows；　because　he　read　it。　Skimmed　through　it；　anyway；　while　he　was　slurping　up　his　cereal。　Maybe　it　was　buried　way　back　in　the　Local　section；　he　thinks；　and　knows　at　once　that's　it。　The　key　word　is　buried。　Lots　of　things　are　buried　in　Derry。　Talk　of　missing　children；　for　instance。　There　have　been　a　lot　of　child　disappearances　here　over　the　years　…　these　boys　know　it；　it　certainly　crossed　their　minds　on　the　day　they　met　Duddits　Cavell；　but　nobody　talks　much　about　it。　It's　as　if　the　occasional　missing　kid　is　the　price　of　living　in　such　a　nice；　quiet　place。　At　this　idea　Henry　feels　a　dawning　indignation　stealing　in　first　to　mix　with　and　then　replace　his　former　goofy　happiness。　She　was　sweet；　too；　with　her　BarbieKen。　Sweet　like　Duddits。　He　remembers　how　the　four　of　them　would　deliver　Duddits　to　school　…　all　those　walks　…　and　how　often　she'd　be　outside；　Josie　Rinkenhauer　with　her　scabby　knees　and　her　great　big　plastic　purse：　'Hi；　Duddie。'　She　was　sweet。
　　　　And　still　is；　Henry　thinks。　She's…
　　　　'She's　alive；'　Beaver　says　flatly。　He　takes　the　chewed…up　toothpick　out　of　his　mouth；　looks　at　it；　and　drops　it　to　the　grass。　'Alive　and　still　around。　Isn't　she？'
　　　　'Yeah；'　Pete　says。　He's　still　looking　at　the　picture；　fascinated；　and　Henry　knows　what　Pete　is　thinking；　almost　the　same　thing　as　he　is：　she　grew　up。　Even　Josie；　who　in　a　fairer　life　might　have　been　Doug　Cavell's　girlfriend。　'But　I　think　she's　。　。　。　you　know　。　。　。'
　　　　'She's　in　deep　shit；'　Jonesy　says。　He　has　stepped　out　of　his　gown　and　now　folds　it　over　his　arm。
　　　　'She's　stuck；'　Pete　says　dreamily；　still　looking　at　the　picture。　His　finger　has　begun　to　go　back　and　forth；　tick…tock；　tick…tock。
　　　　'Where？'　Henry　asks；　but　Pete　shakes　his　head。　So　does　Jonesy。
　　　　'Let's　ask　Duddits；'　Beaver　says　suddenly。　And　they　all　know　why。　There　is　no　need　of　discussion。　Because　Duddits　sees　the　line。　Duddits


11

'…sees　the　line！'　Henry　shouted　suddenly；　and　jerked　upright　in　the　passenger　seat　of　the　Humvee。　It　scared　the　bell　out　of　Owen；　who　was　deep　in　some　private　place　where　there　was　only　him　and　the　storm　and　the　endless　line　of　reflectors　to　tell　him　he　was　still　on　the　road。　'Duddits　sees　the　line！'
　　　　The　Humvee　swerved；　skidded；　came　back　under　control。　'Jesus；　man！'　Owen　said。　'Give　me　a　little　warning　next　time　before　you　blow　your　top；　would　you？'
　　　　Henry　ran　a　hand　down　his　face；　drew　in　a　deep　breath；　and　let　it　out。　'I　know　where　we're　going　and　what　we　have　to　do…'
　　　　'Well；　good…'
　　　　'…but　I　have　to　tell　you　a　story　so　you'll　understand。'
　　　　Owen　glanced　at　him。　'Do　you　understand？'
　　　　'Not　everything；　but　more　than　I　did。'
　　　　'Go　ahead。　We've　got　an　hour　before　Derry。　Is　that　time　enough？'
　　　　Henry　thought　it　would　be　more　than　enough；　especially　talking　mind　to　mind。　He　started　at　the　beginning　…　what　he　now　understood　the　beginning　to　be。　Not　the　ing　of　the　grays；　not　the　byrus　or　the　weasels；　but　four　boys　who　had　been　hoping　to　see　a　picture　of　the　Homeing　Queen　with　her　skirt　pulled　up；　no　more　than　that。　As　Owen　drove；　his　mind　filled　with　a　series　of　connected　images；　more　like　a　dream　than　a　movie。　Henry　told　him　about　Duddits；　about　their　first　trip　to　Hole　in　the　Wall；　and　Beaver　puking　in　the　snow。　He　told　Owen　about　all　those　walks　to　school；　and　about　the　Duddits　version　of　the　game：　they　played　and　Duddits　pegged。　About　the　time　they　had　taken　Duddits　to　see　Santa　Claus　…　what　a　fuckin　pisser　that　had　been。　And　about　how　they　had　seen　Josie　Rinkenhauer's　picture　on　the　DERRY　DOIN's　board　the　day　before　the　three　older　boys　graduated。　Owen　saw　them　going　to　Duddits's　house　on　Maple　Lane　in　Henry's　car；　the　gowns　and　mortarboard　caps　piled　in　back；　saw　them　saying　hi　to　Mr　and　Mrs　Cavell；　who　were　in　the　living　room　with　an　ashy…pale　man　in　a　Derry　Gas　coverall　and　a　weeping　woman
　　　　…　Roberta　Cavell　has　her　arm　around　Ellen　Rinkenhauer's　shoulders　and　is　telling　her　it　will　be　all　right；　she　knows　that　God　won't　let　anything　happen　to　dear　little　Josie。
　　　　It's　strong；　Owen　thought　dreamily。　Man；　what　this　guy's　got　is　so　strong。　How　can　that　be？
　　　　The　Cavells　barely　look　at　the　boys；　because　the　boys　are　such　frequent　visitors　here　at　19　Maple　Lane；　and　the　Rinkenhauers　are　too　deep　in　their　terror　to　even　notice　them。　They　have　not　touched　the　coffee　Roberta　has　served。　He's　in　his　room；　guys；　Alfie　Cavell　says；　giving　them　a　wan　smile。　And　Duddits；　looking　up　at　them　from　his　GI　Joe　figures　…　he　has　all　of　them　…　gets　up　as　soon　as　he　sees　them　in　the　doorway。　Duddits　never　wears　his　shoes　in　his　room；　always　his　bunny　slippers　that　Henry　gave　him　for　his　last　birthday　…　he　loves　the　bunny　slippers；　will　wear　them　until　they　are　nothing　but　pink　rags　held　together　with　strapping　tape　…　but　his　shoes　are　on　now。　He　has　been　waiting　for　them；　and　although　his　smile　is　as　sunny　as　ever；　his　eyes　are　serious。　Eh　ee　own？　Duddits　asks　…　Where　we　goin？　And…
　　　　'You　were　all　that　way？'　Owen　whispered。　He　supposed　Henry　had　already　told　him　that；　but　until　now　he　hadn't　understood　what　Henry　meant。　'Even　before　this？'　He　touched　the　side　of　his　face；　where　a　thin　fuzz　of　byrus　was　now　growing　down　his　cheek。
　　　　'Yes。　No。　I　don't　know。　Just　be　quiet；　Owen。　Listen。'
　　　　And　Owen's　head　once　more　filled　up　with　those　images　from　1982。


12

By　the　time　they　get　to　Strawford　Park　it's　four…thirty　and　a　bunch　of　girls　in　yellow　DERRY　HARDWARE　shirts　are　on　the　softball　field；　all　of　them　with　their　hair　in　near…identical　ponytails　that　have　been　threaded　through　the　backs