emb.seethemdie-第32部分

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　he　makes　some　concession。　He　knows　we're　considering　the　idea　that　this　may　be　a　trap。　He　knows　we're　not　stupid。
　〃What　is　it　now？〃　Miranda　said。
　〃The　priest　stays　right　where　he　is　unless　I　get　some　promises　from　you；〃　Byrnes　said。
　〃Here　we　go；〃　Miranda　answered；　and　the　people　in　the　street　began　chuckling。
　〃Yes；　here　we　go；　Miranda。　I'm　not　sending　up　a　man　you　can　use　as　a　shield　to　get　out　of　that　apartment。〃
　〃What　kind　of　a　louse　do　you　think　I　am？〃
　〃Do　I　have　to　answer　that　one？〃　Byrnes　said；　and　again　the　crowd　chuckled。　This　was　beginning　to　get　good。　None　of　that　grim　stuff　any　more。　Just　a　plain　old　battle　of　wits；　like　a　good　television　routine。
　〃All　right；　cop；　what　do　you　want　from　me？〃
　〃Number　one：　we're　sending　up　an　unarmed　man　who　insists　he　wants　to　see　you　alone　as　a　representative　of　God。　I　want　you　to　respect　that；　Miranda。〃　God　forgive　me；　Byrnes　thought。
　〃All　right；　all　right。〃
　〃Number　two：　I　want　you　to　talk　to　him。　About　ing　out　of　there。　I　don't　know　why　you　want　to　see　him；　and　I　don't　care。　But　I　want　your　promise　that　you'll　talk　to　him　about　ing　out。〃
　〃Is　that　all？〃
　〃Do　I　have　your　promise？〃
　〃What　makes　you　think　I'll　keep　any　promise　I　make？〃
　〃This　is　a　man　of　God；　Miranda。〃
　〃Okay；　okay；　I　promise。〃
　〃Did　you　hear　him；　Father？〃　Byrnes　asked　Carella。
　〃I　heard　him；〃　Carella　answered。
　〃You　can　enter　the　building　any　time　you　like。〃
　Carella　nodded；　sucked　in　another　deep　breath；　walked　directly　to　the　front　stoop　of　the　tenement；　and　entered　the　hallway。
　Byrnes　put　down　the　megaphone；　looked　at　his　watch；　and　then　told　Captain　Frick　he　wanted　four　of　the　best　marksmen　he　could　find。　Then　he　began　praying。
　
　
　16
　
　If　you're　God；　you've　got　all　these　little　things　to　take　care　of；　you　see。　Oh；　not　the　business　of　getting　the　sun　to　rise　on　time；　or　the　stars　to　e　out。　And　not　riding　herd　on　the　seasons　so　that　they　arrive　when　they're　supposed　to；　not　things　like　that。　Those　are　the　big　things；　and　the　big　things　almost　take　care　of　themselves。　It's　those　damn　little　things　that　get　so　bothersome。　And　if　you're　God；　you　can't　just　ignore　them；　you　know。　You　can；　of　course；　move　in　mysterious　ways　your　wonders　to　perform。　This　means　that　you　can　leave　a　few　loose　ends　here　and　there　and　nobody　will　question　them　because　you　are；　after　all；　God。　Maybe　you've　got　a　bigger　design　in　mind　which　will　not　bee　apparent　to　us　poor　slobs　until　maybe　decades　from　now。　Or　centuries。　So　who　are　we　to　question？　Being　God；　you　are　perfectly　entitled　to　occasional　sloppiness。
　Or　maybe　these　things　aren't　even　in　your　control；　who　knows？　Maybe　you　just　sort　of　set　the　universe　every　day；　the　way　somebody　sets　a　clock；　and　then　let　it　run　on　its　own；　fast　or　slow；　however　it　wants　to；　without　touching　it　again　until　it's　run　down　and　needs　another　winding。　Maybe　that's　the　way　you　operate；　and　nobody's　going　to　question　that　either；　God；　you　can　bet　your　life　on　that；　God。
　Only　sometimes；　no　offense　meant；　you　ought　to　work　a　thing　out　and　not　just　let　it　happen；　you　know？　Like　take　that　Puerto　Rican　girl　and　that　sailor；　take　them　for　example。　Now；　being　God；　you　could　fix　them　up　real　fine；　couldn't　you？　Like；　for　example；　Zip　and　Cooch　could　find　her；　you　see；　and　Zip　is　dragging　her　down　the　street　towards　Alfie's　pad　when　wham！　who　should　appear？　The　sailor！　How's　that；　huh？　He　didn't　go　off　with　the　whore　Marge；　you　see。　He　only　started　to；　but　then　he　changed　his　mind。　And　here　he　is　back　on　the　street；　face　to　face　with　China。　He　looks　at　her；　and　she　looks　at　him；　and　their　eyes　lock；　and　slowly　they　walk　across　that　street　to　each　other；　and　tolerance　and　understanding　flash　in　the　sailor's　eyes；　I　love　you；　China；　coupled　with　a　little　bit　of　honest　lust；　I　love　you；　Jeff；　wham　they　clinch；　and　we　fade　out　on　Zip　who　shrugs　his　shoulders　and　says；　〃Oh　well；　what　the　hell；　easy　e；　easy　go。〃
　How's　that；　God？〃
　That's　great。
　But　that　isn't　the　way　it　happened。
　The　street　was　impossible。　The　crowd　was　anxious　for　the　kill　now；　anxious　for　the　die　to　be　cast　either　way。　They　didn't　much　give　a　damn　at　this　moment　whether　or　not　Miranda　would　kill　the　priest　and　the　police　lieutenant　and　the　missioner　and　the　mayor　and　the　governor　and　even　the　president。　They　didn't　care　whether　or　not　a　cop　on　one　of　the　rooftops　would　fire　a　lucky　shot　and　catch　Miranda　splank　between　the　eyeballs。　They　only　wanted　it　to　be　over　and　done　with；　either　way。　And　so　the　crowd　was　restless；　and　a　little　mean；　and　hot；　and　unfortable。　It　was　a　crowd　which　was　beginning　to　resent　this　tie　game　which　had　run　into　fourteen　innings。　The　tenth　inning　had　been　a　treat　and　the　eleventh　a　distinct　bonus　and　the　twelfth　a　lovely　dividend；　but　the　thirteenth　brought　on　thoughts　of　other　things　to　be　done。　Watching　a　game　was　great　fun　…　but　life　was　real　and　life　was　earnest；　and　life　was　going　on　outside　that　ball　park。
　So　the　crowd　resisted　the　shoving　of　Zip　and　Cooch；　and　occasionally　the　crowd　shoved　back　at　the　two　boys　and　cursed　a　bit；　and　did　everything　possible　to　make　the　task　of　locating　China　unimaginably　difficult。
　In　fifteen　minutes'　time；　Zip　and　Cooch　gave　up　the　search。
　It　was　just　as　well　that　they　had；　because　China　wasn't　in　the　neighborhood　any　longer。　China　had　gone　over　to　the　park　where　she　had　sat　by　the　lake　and　watched　the　people　in　the　rowboats。　That's　where　China　was。　She　cried　a　little；　yes。　In　the　park；　by　the　lake；　watching　the　rowboats。
　The　sailor？　Did　he　wander　back　to　the　street？　Did　he　amble　over　to　the　park？
　The　sailor　went　to　bed　with　a　prostitute　named　Marge。　Marge　was　a　practiced　whore；　and　she　pleased　the　sailor　immensely。　The　sailor　paid　her　fifteen　dollars；　which　was　nearly　every　cent　he　had。　Then　he　walked　to　the　subway；　got　on　a　train；　went　downtown　to　where　his　ship　was　docked；　started　up　the　gangway；　saluted　the　ensign　on　the　fantail；　saluted　the　officer　of　the　deck；　went　to　the　rear　partment；　took　off　his　whites；　put　on　a　pair　of　dungarees　and　a　chambray　shirt；　climbed　into　his　sack；　and　went　to　sleep　until　the　loud…speaker　amidships　announced；　〃Chow　down。〃　He　ate　a　good　dinner；　saw　a　movie　on　the　boat　deck　that　evening；　went　to　bed　about　eleven　o'clock；　and　sailed　for　San　Diego　the　next　morning。　He　never　saw　the　Puerto　Rican　girl　named　China　again　in　his　life。　He　probably　went　back　to　Fletcher；　Colorado；　eventually。　Maybe　she　flashed　into　his　mind　every　now　and　then　…　like　once　every　twelve　years。　Maybe　he　remembered　her　dimly　and　wondered　what　had　bee　of　her。　Maybe；　married　to　Corrine　and　running　an　insurance　business；　he　sporadically　thought　of　China　in　an　idealized　way；　the　most　beautiful　girl　in　the　world；　exotic；　that　day　in　a　strange　city；　far　away；　I　wonder　what　became　of　her；　I　wonder。
　She　sat　in　the　park　and　wept　a　bit　and　watched　the　rowboats。
　You　are　God；　and　you　can　do　it　any　way　you　want　to。　You　can　even　get　them　married　the　next　day　before　his　ship　sails。　Anything　you　want　to　do。　All　the　possibilities　are　there。　And　you're　God；　and　there　isn't　anyone　who's　going　to　slap　your　wrist；　no　matter　how　you　do　it。
　But　God；　man；　that　is　the　way　it　happened。
　Steve　Carella　knocked　on　the　door。　There　were　bullet　holes　in　the　door；　and　Carella　remembered　that　Pepe　Miranda　had　shot　a　patrolman　through　that　door；　and　he　suddenly　wanted　his　。38　in　his　hand。
　Now；　easy；　he　told　himself。　Now　just　take'it　easy；　and　don't　panic。　We　are　going　to　play　this　Miranda's　way　because　there　are　a　lot　of　people　out　there　on　the　street；　and　we　don't　want　them　to　be　getting　shot。　So　be　cool。　Your　hand　is　shaking；　and　you　are　itching　to　pull　that　。38　so　that　you'll　have　something　more　than　a　set　of　prayer　beads　in　your　fist　when　that　door　opens；　but　be　cool；　Steve…o；　be　cool　and。。。
　The　door　opened。
　A　。45　automatic　was　the　first　thing　Carella　saw。　The　door　opened　just　a　crack；　and　there　was　the　。45；　its　big　ugly　snout　pointing　into　the　hallway。　Carella's　mouth　felt　very　dry。
　〃I'm　。。。　Father　Donovan；〃　he　said　to　the　automatic。
　The　door　opened　wider。　Carella's　eyes　panned　up　from　the　。45；　the　hand　holding　it；　the　thin　wrist；　the　black　hair　curling　on　the　arm；　the　narrow　shoulders；　the　sweat…stai