sk.dreamcatcher-第12部分

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n　both　were　going；　the　place　made　you　feel　stupid　with　the　heat　even　if　it　was　twenty　below　outside。　The　west　wall　was　all　window；　giving　a　view　of　the　long；　steep　slope　which　fell　off　to　the　west。　There　had　been　a　fire　there　in　the　seventies；　and　the　dead　trees　stood　black　and　twisted　in　the　thickening　snow。　Jonesy；　Pete；　Henry　and　the　Beav　called　this　slope　The　Gulch；　because　that's　what　the　Beav's　Dad　and　his　friends　had　called　it。
　　　　'Oh　God；　thank　God；　and　thank　you；　too；'　the　man　in　the　orange　hat　said　to　Jonesy；　and　when　Jonesy　grinned　…　that　was　a　lot　of　thank…yous　…　the　man　laughed　shrilly　as　if　to　say　yes；　he　knew　it；　it　was　a　funny　thing　to　say　but　he　couldn't　help　it。　He　began　to　take　deep　breaths；　for　a　few　moments　looking　like　one　of　those　exercise　gurus　you　saw　on　high…number　cable。　On　every　exhale；　he　talked。
　　　　'God；　I　really　thought　I　was　done…for　last　night　。　。　。　it　was　so　cold　。　。　。　and　the　damp　air；　I　remember　that　。　。　。　remember　thinking　Oh　boy；　oh　dear；　what　if　there's　snow　ing　after　all　。　。　。　I　got　coughing　and　couldn't　stop　。　。　。　something　came　and　I　thought　I　have　to　stop　coughing；　if　that's　a　bear　or　something　I'll　。　。　。　you　know　。　。　。　provoke　it　or　something　only　I　couldn't　and　after　awhile　it　just　。　。　。　you　know；　went　away　on　its　own…'
　　　　'You　saw　a　bear　in　the　night'；'　Jonesy　was　both　fascinated　and　appalled。　He　had　heard　there　were　bears　up　here　…　Old　Man　Gosselin　and　his　pickle…barrel　buddies　at　the　store　loved　to　tell　bear　stories；　particularly　to　the　out…of…staters　…　but　the　idea　that　this　man；　lost　and　on　his　own；　had　been　menaced　by　one　in　the　night；　was　keenly　horrible。　It　was　like　hearing　a　sailor　talk　about　a　sea　monster。
　　　　'I　don't　know　that　it　was；'　the　man　said；　and　suddenly　shot　Jonesy　a　sidewards　look　of　cunning　that　Jonesy　didn't　like　and　couldn't　read。　'I　can't　say　for　sure；　by　then　there　was　no　more　lightning。'
　　　　'Lightning；　too？　Man！'　If　not　for　the　guy's　obviously　genuine　distress；　Jonesy　would　have　wondered　if　he　wasn't　getting　his　leg　pulled。　In　truth；　he　wondered　it　a　little；　anyway。
　　　　'Dry　lightning；　I　guess；'　the　man　said。　Jonesy　could　almost　see　him　shrugging　it　off。　He　scratched　at　the　red　place　on　his　cheek；　which　might　have　been　a　touch　of　frostbite。　'See　it　in　winter；　it　means　there's　a　storm　on　the　way。'
　　　　'And　you　saw　this？　Last　night？'
　　　　'I　guess　so。'　The　man　gave　him　another　quick；　sideways　glance；　but　this　time　Jonesy　saw　no　slyness　in　it；　and　guessed　he　had　seen　none　before。　He　saw　only　exhaustion。　'It's　all　mixed　up　in　my　mind　。　。　。　my　stomach's　been　hurting　ever　since　I　got　lost　it　always　hurts　when　I'm　ascairt；　ever　since　I　was　a　little　kid　。　。　。　'
　　　　And　he　was　like　a　little　kid；　Jonesy　thought；　looking　everywhere　at　once　with　perfect　unselfconsciousness。　Jonesy　led　the　guy　toward　the　couch　in　front　of　the　fireplace　and　the　guy　let　himself　be　led。　Ascairt。　He　even　said　ascairt　instead　of　afraid；　like　a　kid。　A　little　kid。
　　　　'Give　me　your　coat；'　Jonesy　said；　and　as　the　guy　first　unbuttoned　the　buttons　and　then　reached　for　the　zipper　under　them；　Jonesy　thought　again　of　how　he　had　thought　he　was　looking　at　a　deer；　at　a　buck　for　Chrissakes　…　he　had　mistaken　one　of　those　buttons　for　an　eye　and　had　damned　near　put　a　bullet　through　it。
　　　　The　guy　got　the　zipper　halfway　down　and　then　it　stuck；　one　side　of　the　little　gold　mouth　choking　on　the　cloth。　He　looked　at　it　…　gawked　at　it；　really　…　as　if　he　had　never　seen　such　a　thing　before。　And　when　Jonesy　reached　for　the　zipper；　the　man　dropped　his　hands　to　his　sides　and　simply　let　Jonesy　reach；　as　a　first…grader　would　stand　and　let　the　teacher　put　matters　right　when　he　got　his　galoshes　on　the　wrong　feet　or　his　jacket　on　inside　out。
　　　　Jonesy　got　the　little　gold　mouth　started　again　and　pulled　it　the　rest　of　the　way　down。　Outside　the　window…wall；　The　Gulch　was　disappearing；　although　you　could　still　see　the　black　scrawled　shapes　of　the　trees。　Almost　thirty　years　they　had　e　up　here　together　for　the　hunting；　almost　thirty　years　without　a　single　miss；　and　in　none　of　that　time　had　there　been　snow　heavier　than　the　occasional　squall。　It　looked　like　all　that　was　about　to　change；　although　how　could　you　tell？　These　days　the　guys　on　radio　and　TV　made　four　inches　of　fresh　powder　sound　like　the　next　Ice　Age。
　　　　For　a　moment　the　guy　only　stood　there　with　his　jacket　hanging　open　and　snow　melting　around　his　boots　on　the　polished　wooden　floor；　looking　up　at　the　rafters　with　his　mouth　open；　and　yes；　he　was　like　a　great　big　six…year…old　…　or　like　Duddits。　You　almost　expected　to　see　mittens　dangling　from　the　cuffs　of　his　jacket　on　clips。　He　shrugged　out　of　his　coat　in　that　perfectly　recognizable　child's　way；　simply　slumping　his　shoulders　once　it　was　unzipped　and　letting　it　fall。　If　Jonesy　hadn't　been　there　to　catch　it；　it　would　have　gone　on　the　floor　and　gotten　right　to　work　sopping　up　the　puddles　of　melting　snow。
　　　　'What's　that？'　he　asked。
　　　　For　a　moment　Jonesy　had　no　idea　what　the　guy　was　talking　about；　and　then　he　traced　the　stranger's　gaze　to　the　bit　of　weaving　which　hung　from　the　center　rafter。　It　was　colorful　…　red　and　green；　with　shoots　of　canary　yellow；　as　well　…　and　it　looked　like　a　spiderweb。
　　　　'It's　a　dreamcatcher；'　Jonesy　said。　'An　Indian　charm。　Supposed　to　keep　the　nightmares　away；　I　guess。'
　　　　'Is　it　yours？'
　　　　Jonesy　didn't　know　if　he　meant　the　whole　place　（perhaps　the　guy　hadn't　been　listening　before）　or　just　the　dreamcatcher；　but　in　either　case　the　answer　was　the　same。　'No；　my　friend's。　We　e　up　hunting　every　year。'
　　　　'How　many　of　you？'　The　man　was　shivering；　holding　his　arms　crisscrossed　over　his　chest　and　cupping　his　elbows　in　his　palms　as　he　watched　Jonesy　hang　his　coat　on　the　tree　by　the　door。
　　　　'Four。　Beaver　…　this　is　his　camp　　is　out　hunting　now。　I　don't　know　if　the　snow'll　bring　him　back　in　or　not。　Probably　it　will。　Pete　and　Henry　went　to　the　store。'
　　　　'Gosselin's？　That　one？'
　　　　'Uh…huh。　e　on　over　here　and　sit　down　on　the　couch。'　Jonesy　led　him　to　the　couch；　a　ridiculously　long　sectional。　Such　things　had　gone　out　of　style　decades　ago；　but　it　didn't　smell　too　bad　and　nothing　had　infested　it。　Style　and　taste　didn't　matter　much　at　Hole　in　the　Wall。
　　　　'Stay　put　now；'　he　said；　and　left　the　man　sitting　there；　shivering　and　shaking　with　his　hands　clasped　between　his　knees。　His　jeans　had　the　sausagey　look　they　get　when　there　are　longjohns　underneath；　and　still　he　shook　and　shivered。　But　the　heat　had　brought　on　an　absolute　flood　of　color；　instead　of　looking　like　a　corpse；　the　stranger　now　looked　like　a　diphtheria　victim。
　　　　Pete　and　Henry　were　doubling　in　the　bigger　of　the　two　downstairs　bedrooms。　Jonesy　ducked　in；　opened　the　cedar　chest　to　the　left　of　the　door；　and　pulled　out　one　of　the　two　down　forters　folded　up　inside。　As　he　recrossed　the　living　room　to　where　the　man　sat　shivering　on　the　couch；　Jonesy　realized　he　hadn't　asked　the　most　elementary　question　of　all；　the　one　even　six…year…olds　who　couldn't　get　their　own　zippers　down　asked。
　　　　As　he　spread　the　forter　over　the　stranger　on　the　outsized　camp　couch；　he　said：　'What's　your　name？'　And　realized　he　almost　knew。　McCoy？　McCann？
　　　　The　man　Jonesy　had　almost　shot　looked　up　at　him；　at　once　pulling　the　forter　up　around　his　neck。　The　brown　patches　under　his　eyes　were　filling　in　purple。
　　　　'McCarthy；'　he　said。　'Richard　McCarthy。'　His　hand；　surprisingly　plump　and　white　without　its　glove；　crept　out　from　beneath　the　coverlet　like　a　shy　animal。　'You　are？'
　　　　'Gary　Jones；'　he　said；　and　took　the　hand　with　the　one　which　had　almost　pulled　the　trigger。　'Folks　mostly　call　me　Jonesy。'
　　　　'Thanks；　Jonesy。'　McCarthy　looked　at　him　earnestly。　'I　think　you　saved　my　life。'
　　　　'Oh；　I　don't　know　about　that；'　Jonesy　said。　He　looked　at　that　red　patch　again。　Frostbite；　just　a　small　patch。　Frostbite；　had　to　be。

CHAPTER　TWO

THE　BEAV


1
　　　　
'You　know　I　can't　call　anyone；　don't　you？'　Jonesy　said。　'The　phone　lines　don't　e　anywhere　near　here。　There's　a　genny　for　the　electric；　but　that's　all。'
　　　　McCarthy；　only　his　head　showing　above　the　forter；　nodded。　'I　was　hearing　the　generator；　but　you　know　how　it　is　when　you're　lost　…　noises　are　funny。　Sometimes　the　sound　seems　to　be　ing　from　your　left　or　your　right；　then　you'd　swear　it's　behind