sk.dreamcatcher-第17部分

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　　　　At　last　Beaver　grabbed　him　and　yanked　him　out　the　door。　There　they　stood　coatless　in　the　deepening　snow；　finally　able　to　laugh　out　loud　with　the　booming　wind　to　cover　the　sounds　they　made。


6

When　they　went　back　in　again；　Jonesy's　hands　were　so　numb　he　barely　felt　the　hot　water　when　he　plunged　his　hands　into　it；　but　he　was　laughed　out　and　that　was　good。　He　wondered　again　about　Pete　and　Henry　…　how　they　were　doing　and　if　they'd　make　it　back　okay。
　　　　'You　said　it　explained　some　stuff；'　the　Beav　said。　He　had　started　another　toothpick。　'What　stuff？'
　　　　'He　didn't　know　snow　was　ing；'　Jonesy　said。　He　spoke　slowly；　trying　to　recall　McCarthy's　exact　words。　〃'So　much　for　fair　and　seasonably　cold；〃　I　think　that's　what　he　said。　But　that　would　make　sense　if　the　last　forecast　he　heard　was　for　the　eleventh　or　twelfth。　Because　until　late　yesterday；　it　was　fair；　wasn't　it？'
　　　　'Yeah；　and　seasonably　fuckin　cold；'　Beaver　agreed。　He　pulled　a　dishtowel　with　a　pattern　of　faded　ladybugs　on　it　from　the　drawer　by　the　sink　and　began　to　dry　the　dishes。　He　looked　across　at　the　closed　bedroom　door　as　he　worked。　'What　else'd　he　say？'
　　　　'That　their　camp　was　in　Kineo。'
　　　　'Kineo？　That's　forty；　fifty　miles　west　of　here。　He…'　Beaver　took　the　toothpick　out　of　his　mouth；　examined　the　bite…marks　on　it；　and　put　the　other　end　in　his　mouth。　'Oh；　I　see。'
　　　　'Yeah。　He　couldn't　have　done　all　that　in　a　single　night；　but　if　he　was　out　there　for　three　days…'
　　　　'…and　four　nights；　if　he　got　lost　on　Saturday　afternoon　that　makes　four　nights…'
　　　　'Yeah；　and　four　nights。　So；　supposing　he　kept　pretty　much　headed　dead　east　that　whole　time　。　。　。'　Jonesy　calculated　fifteen　miles　a　day。　'I'd　say　it's　possible。'
　　　　'But　how　e　he　didn't　freeze？'　Beaver　had　lowered　his　voice　to　a　near…whisper；　probably　without　being　aware　of　it。　'He's　got　a　nice　heavy　coat　and　he's　wearin　longies；　but　nights　have　been　in　the　twenties　everywhere　north　of　the　county　line　since　Halloween。　So　you　tell　me　how　he　spends　four　nights　out　there　and　doesn't　freeze。　Doesn't　even　look　like　he's　got　any　frostbite；　just　that　mess　on　his　cheek。'
　　　　'I　don't　know。　And　there's　something　else；'　Jonesy　said。　'How　e　he　doesn't　have　the　start　of　a　beard？'
　　　　'Huh？'　Beaver's　mouth　opened。　The　toothpick　hung　from　his　lower　lip。　Then；　very　slowly；　he　nodded。　'Yeah。　All　he's　got　is　stubble。'
　　　　'I'd　say　less　than　a　day's　growth。'
　　　　'I　guess　he　was　shavin；　huh？'
　　　　'Right；'　Jonesy　said；　picturing　McCarthy　lost　in　the　woods；　scared　and　cold　and　hungry　（not　that　he　looked　like　he'd　missed　many　meals；　that　was　another　thing）；　but　still　kneeling　by　a　stream　every　morning；　breaking　the　ice　with　a　booted　foot　so　he　could　get　to　the　water　beneath；　then　taking　his　trusty　Gillette　from　。　。　。　where？　His　coat　pocket？
　　　　'And　then　this　morning　he　lost　his　razor；　which　is　why　he's　got　the　stubble；'　the　Beav　said。　He　was　smiling　again；　but　there　didn't　seem　to　be　a　lot　of　humor　in　it。
　　　　'Yeah。　Same　time　he　lost　his　gun。　Did　you　see　his　teeth？'
　　　　Beaver　made　a　what…now　grimace。
　　　　'Four　gone。　Two　on　top；　two　on　the　bottom。　He　looks　like　the　What…me…worry　kid　that's　always　on　the　front　of　Mad　magazine。'
　　　　'Not　a　big　deal；　buddy。　I've　got　a　couple　of　AWOL　choppers　myself。'　Beaver　hooked　back　one　er　of　his　mouth；　baring　his　left　gum　in　a　one…sided　grin　Jonesy　could　have　done　without。　'Eee？　Ight　ack　ere。'
　　　　Jonesy　shook　his　head。　It　wasn't　the　same。　'The　guy's　a　lawyer；　Beav　…　he's　out　in　public　all　the　time；　his　looks　are　part　of　his　living。　And　these　babies　are　right　out　in　front。　He　didn't　know　they　were　gone。　I'd　swear　to　it。'
　　　　'You　don't　suppose　he　got　exposed　to　radiation　or　something；　do　you？'　Beaver　asked　uneasily。　'Your　teeth　fall　out　when　you　get　fuckin　radiation　poisonin；　I　saw　that　in　a　movie　one　time。　One　of　the　ones　you're　always　watching；　those　monster　shows。　You　don't　suppose　it's　that；　do　you？　Maybe　he　got　that　red　mark　the　same　time。'
　　　　'Yeah；　he　got　a　dose　when　the　Mars　Hill　Nuclear　Power　Plant　blew　up；'　Jonesy　said；　and　Beaver's　puzzled　expression　made　him　immediately　sorry　for　the　crack。　'Beav；　when　you　get　radiation　poisoning；　I　think　your　hair　falls　out；　too。'
　　　　The　Beaver's　face　cleared。　'Yeah；　that's　right。　The　guy　in　the　movie　ended　up　as　bald　as　Telly　what's…his…fuck；　used　to　play　that　cop　on　TV。'　He　paused。　'Then　the　guy　died。　The　one　in　the　movie；　I　mean；　not　Telly；　although　now　that　I　think　of　it…'
　　　　'This　guy's　got　plenty　of　hair；'　Jonesy　interrupted。　Let　Beaver　get　off　on　a　tangent　and　they　would　likely　never　get　back　to　the　point。　He　noticed　that；　out　of　the　stranger's　presence；　neither　of　them　called　him　Rick；　or　even　McCarthy。　Just　'the　guy；'　as　if　they　subconsciously　wanted　to　turn　him　into　something　less　important　than　a　man　…　something　generic；　as　if　that　would　make　it　matter　less　if　。　。　。　well；　if。
　　　　'Yeah；'　Beaver　said。　'He　does；　doesn't　he？　Plenty　of　hair。'
　　　　'He　must　have　amnesia。'
　　　　'Maybe；　but　he　remembers　who　he　is；　who　he　was　with；　shit　like　that。　Man；　that　was　some　trumpet…blast　he　blew；　wasn't　it？　And　the　stink！　Like　ether！'
　　　　'Yeah；'　Jonesy　said。　'I　kept　thinking　of　starter　fluid。　Diabetics　get　a　smell　when　they're　tipping　over。　I　read　that　in　a　mystery　novel；　I　think。'
　　　　'Is　it　like　starter　fluid？'
　　　　'I　can't　remember。'
　　　　They　stood　there　looking　at　each　other；　listening　to　the　wind。　It　crossed　Jonesy's　mind　to　tell　Beaver　about　the　lightning　the　guy　claimed　to　have　seen；　but　why　bother？　Enough　was　enough。
　　　　'I　thought　he　was　going　to　blow　his　cookies　when　he　leaned　forward　like　that；'　the　Beav　said。　'Didn't　you？'
　　　　Jonesy　nodded。
　　　　'And　he　don't　look　well；　not　at　all　well。'
　　　　'No。'
　　　　Beaver　sighed；　tossed　his　toothpick　in　the　trash；　and　looked　out　the　window；　where　the　snow　was　ing　down　harder　and　heavier　than　ever。　He　flicked　his　fingers　through　his　hair。　'Man；　I　wish　Henry　and　Pete　were　here。　Henry　especially。'
　　　　'Beav；　Henry's　a　psychiatrist。'
　　　　'I　know；　but　he's　the　closest　thing　to　a　doctor　we　got　…　and　I　think　that　fellow　needs　doctoring。'
　　　　Henry　actually　was　a　physician　…　had　to　be；　in　order　to　get　his　certificate　of　shrinkology　…　but　he'd　never　practiced　anything　except　psychiatry；　as　far　as　Jonesy　knew。　Still；　he　understood　what　Beaver　meant。
　　　　'Do　you　still　think　they'll　make　it　back；　Beav？'
　　　　Beaver　sighed。　'Half　an　hour　ago　I　would　have　said　for　sure；　but　it's　really　in　heavy。　I　think　so。'　He　looked　at　Jonesy　somberly；　there　was　not　much　of　the　usually　happy…go…lucky　Beaver　Clarendon　in　that　look。　'I　hope　so；'　he　said。

CHAPTER　THREE

HENRY'S　SCOUT


1

Now；　as　he　followed　the　Scout's　headlights　through　the　thickening　snow；　burrowing　as　if　through　a　tunnel　along　the　Deep　Cut　Road　toward　Hole　in　the　Wall；　Henry　was　down　to　thinking　about　ways　to　do　it。
　　　　There　was　the　Hemingway　Solution；　of　course　…　way　back　at　Harvard；　as　an　undergraduate；　he　had　written　a　paper　calling　it　that；　so　he　might　have　been　thinking　about　it　…　in　a　personal　way；　not　just　as　another　step　toward　fulfilling　some　twinky　course　requirement；　that　was　…　even　then。　The　Hemingway　Solution　was　a　shotgun；　and　Henry　had　one　of　those　now　。　。　。　not　that　he　would　do　it　here；　with　the　others。　The　four　of　them　had　had　a　lot　of　fine　times　at　Hole　in　the　Wall；　and　it　would　be　unfair　to　do　it　there。　It　would　pollute　the　place　for　Pete　and　Jonesy　…　for　Beaver　too；　maybe　Beaver　most　of　all；　and　that　wouldn't　be　right。　But　it　would　be　soon；　he　could　feel　it　ing　on；　something　like　a　sneeze。　Funny　to　pare　the　ending　of　your　life　to　a　sneeze；　but　that　was　probably　what　it　came　to。　Just　kerchoo；　and　then　hello　darkness；　my　old　friend。
　　　　When　implementing　the　Hemingway　Solution；　you　took　off　your　shoe　and　your　sock。　Butt　of　the　gun　went　on　the　floor。　Barrel　went　into　your　mouth。　Great　toe　went　around　the　trigger。　Memo　to　myself；　Henry　thought　as　the　Scout　fishtailed　a　little　in　the　fresh　snow　and　he　corrected　…　the　ruts　helped；　that　was　really　all　this　road　was；　a　couple　of　ruts　dug　by　the　skidders　that　used　it　in　the　summertime。　If　you　do　it　that　way；　take　a　laxative　and　don't　do　it　until　after　that　final　dump；　no　need　to　make　any　extra　mess　for　the　people　who　find　you。
　　　　'Maybe　you　better　slow　down　a