jg.atimetokill-第5部分

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　this　time　when　the　thing　erupted。　On　occasion；　about　twice　a　year；　he　was　successful　in　shoving　Carla　onto　the　floor；　and　she　would　maybe　turn　it　off　before　returning　to　bed。　Most　of　the　time；　however；　she　was　not　sympathetic。　She　thought　he　was　crazy　for　getting　up　at　such　an　hour。
　The　clock　sat　on　the　windowsill　so　that　Jake　was　required　to　move　around　a　bit　before　it　was　silenced。　Once　up；　Jake　would　not　permit　himself　to　crawl　back　under　the　covers。　It　was　one　of　his　rules。　At　one　time　the　alarm　was　on　the　nightstand；　and　the　volume　was　reduced。　Carla　would　reach　and　turn　it　off　before　Jake　heard　anything。　Then　he　would　sleep　until　seven　or　eight　and　ruin　his　entire　day。　He　would　miss　being　in　the　office　by　seven；　which　was　another　rule。　The　alarm　stayed　in　the　bathroom　and　served　its　purpose。
　Jake　stepped　to　the　sink　and　splashed　cold　water　on'his　face　and　hair。　He　switched　on　the　light　and　gasped　in　horror　at　the　sight　in　the　mirror。　His　straight　brown　hair　shot　in　all　directions；　and　the　hairline　had　receded　at　least　two　inches　during　the　night。　Either　that　or　his　forehead　had　grown。　His　eyes　were　matted　and　swollen　with　the　white　stuff　packed　in　the　corners。　A　seam　in　a　blanket　left　a　bright　red　scar　along　the　left　side　of　his　face。　He　touched；　then　rubbed　it　and　wondered　if　it　would　go　away。　With　his　right　hand　he　pushed　his　hair　back　and　inspected　the　hairline。　At　thirty…two；　he　had　no　gray　hair。　Gray　hair　was　not　the　problem。　The　problem　was　pattern　baldness；　which　Jake　had　richly　inherited
　from　both　sides　of　his　family。　He　longed　for　a　full；　thick　hairline　beginning　an　inch　above　his　eyebrows。　He　still　had　plenty　of　hair；　Carla　told　him。　But　it　wouldn't　last　long　at　the　rate　it　was　disappearing。　She　also　assured　him　he　was　as　handsome　as　ever；　and　he　believed　her。　She　had　explained　that　a　receding　hairline　gave　him　a　look　of　maturity　that　was　essential　for　a　young　attorney。　He　believed　that　too。
　But　what　about　old；　bald　attorneys；　or　even　mature；　middle…aged　bald　attorneys？　Why　couldn't　the　hair　return　after　he　grew　wrinkles　and　gray　sideburns　and　looked　very　mature？
　Jake　pondered　these　things　in　the　shower。　He　took　quick　showers；　and　he　shaved　and　dressed　quickly。　He　had　to　be　at　the　Coffee　Shop　at　6：00　A。M。…another　rule。　He　turned　on　lights　and　slammed　and　banged　drawers　and　closet　doors　in　an　effort　to　arouse　Carla。　This　was　the　morning　ritual　during　the　summer　when　she　was　not　teaching　school。　He　had　explained　to　her　numerous　times　that　she　had　all　day　to　catch　up　on　any　lost　sleep；　and　that　these　early　moments　should　be　spent　together。　She　moaned　and　tunneled　deeper　under　the　covers。　Once　dressed；　Jake　jumped　on　the　bed　with　all　fours　and　kissed　her　in　the　ear；　down　the　neck；　and　all　over　the　face　until　she　finally　swung　at　him。　Then　he　yanked　the　covers　off　the　bed　and　laughed　as　she　curled　up　and　shivered　and　begged　for　the　blankets。　He　held　them　and　admired　her　dark；　tanned；　thin；　almost　perfect　legs。　The　bulky　nightshirt　covered　nothing　below　the　waist；　and　a　hundred　lewd　thoughts　danced　before　him。
　About　once　a　month　this　ritual　would　get　out　of　hand。　She　would　not　protest；　and　the　blankets　would　be　jointly　removed。　On　those　mornings　Jake　undressed　even　quicker　and　broke　at　least　three　of　his　rules。　That's　how　Hanna　was　conceived。
　But　not　this　morning。　He　covered　his　wife；　kissed　her　gently；　and　turned　out　the　lights。　She　breathed　easier；　and　fell　asleep。
　Down　the　hall　he　quietly　opened　Hanna's　door　and　knelt　beside　her。　She　was　four；　the　only　child；　and　there　would　be　no　others。　She　lay　in　her　bed　surrounded　by　dolls　and　stuffed　animals。　He　kissed　her　lightly　on　the　cheek。　She　was　as　beautiful　as　her　mother；　and　the　two　were　identical　in
　looks　and　manners。　They　had　large　bluish…gray　eyes　that　could　cry　instantly；　if　necessary。　They　wore　their　dark　hair　the　same　way…had　it　cut　by　the　same　person　at　the　same　time。　They　even　dressed　alike。
　Jake　adored　the　two　women　in　his　life。　He　kissed　the　second　one　goodbye　and　went　to　the　kitchen　to　make　coffee　for　Carla。　On　his　way　out　he　released　Max；　the　mutt；　into　the　backyard；　where　she　simultaneously　relieved　herself　and　barked　at　Mrs。　Pickle's　cat　next　door。
　Few　people　attacked　the　morning　like　Jake　Brigance。　He　walked　briskly　to　the　end　of　the　driveway　and　got　the　morning　papers　for　Carla。　It　was　dark；　clear；　and　cool　with　the　promise　of　summer　rapidly　approaching。
　He　studied　the　darkness　up　and　down　Adams　Street；　then　turned　and　admired　his　house。　Two　homes　in　Ford　County　were　on　the　National　Register　of　Historic　Places；　and　Jake　Brigance　owned　one　of　them。　Although　it　was　heavily　mortgaged；　he　was　proud　of　it　nonetheless。　It　was　a　nineteenth…century　Victorian　built　by　a　retired　railroad　man　who　died　on　the　first　Christmas　Eve　he　spent　in　his　new　home。　The　facade　was　a　huge；　centered　gable　with　hipped　roof　over　a　wide；　inset　front　porch。　Under　the　gable　a　small　portico　covered　with　bargeboard　hung　gently　over　the　porch。　The　five　supporting　pillars　were　round　and　painted　white　and　slate　blue。　Each　column　bore　a　handmade　floral　carving；　each　with　a　different　flower…daffodils；　irises；　and　sunflowers。　The　railing　between　the　pillars　was　filled　with　lavish　lacework。　Upstairs；　three　bay　windows　opened　onto　a　small　balcony；　and　to　the　left　of　the　balcony　an　octagonal　tower　with　stained…glass　windows　protruded　and　rose　above　the　gable　until　it　peaked　with　an　iron…crested　finial。　Below　the　tower　and　to　the　left　of　the　porch；　a　wide；　graceful　veranda　with　ornamental　railing　extended　from　the　house　and　served　as　a　carport。　The　front　panels　were　a　collage　of　gingerbread；　cedar　shingles；　scallops；　fish　scales；　tiny　intricate　gables；　and　miniature　spindles。
　Carla　had　located　a　paint　consultant　in　New　Orleans；　and　the　fairy　chose　six　original　colors…mostly　shades　of　blue；　teal；　peach；　and　white。　The　paint　job　took　two　months　and　cost　Jake　five　thousand　dollars；　and　that　did　not　include　the　countless　hours　he　and　Carla　had　spent　dangling　from
　ladders　and　scraping　cornices。　And　although　he　was　not　wild　about　some　of　the　colors；　he　had　never　dared　suggest　repainting。
　As　with　every　Victorian；　the　house　was　gloriously　unique。　It　had　a　piquant；　provocative；　engaging　quality　derived　from　an　ingenuous；　joyous；　almost　childlike　bearing。　Carla　had　wanted　it　since　before　they　married；　and　when　the　owner　in　Memphis　finally　died　and　the　estate　was　closed；　they　bought　it　for　a　song　because　no　one　else　would　have　it。　It　had　been　abandoned　for　twenty　years。　They　borrowed　heavily　from　two　of　the　three　banks　in　Clanton；　and　spent　the　next　three　years　sweating　and　doting　over　their　landmark。　Now　people　drove　by　and　took　pictures　of　it。
　The　third　local　bank　held　the　mortgage　on　Jake's　car；　the　only　Saab　in　Ford　County。　And　a　red　Saab　at　that。　He　wiped　the　dew　from　the　windshield　and　unlocked　the　door。　Max　was　still　barking　and　had　awakened　the　army　of　blue…jays　that　lived　in　Mrs。　Pickle's　maple　tree。　They　sang　to　him　and　called　farewell　as　he　smiled　and　whistled　in　return。　He　backed　into　Adams　Street。　Two　blocks　east　he　turned　south　on　Jefferson；　which　two　blocks　later　ran　dead　end　into　Washington　Street。　Jake　had　often　wondered　why　every　small　Southern　town　had　an　Adams；　a　Jefferson；　and　a　Washington；　but　no　Lincoln　or　Grant。　Washington　Street　ran　east　and　west　on　the　north　side　of　the　Clanton　square。
　Because　Clanton　was　the　county　seat　it　had　a　square；　and　the　square　quite　naturally　had　a　courthouse　in　the　center　of　it。　General　Clanton　had　laid　out　the　town　with　much　thought；　and　the　square　was　long　and　wide　and　the　courthouse　lawn　was　covered　with　massive　oak　trees；　all　lined　neatly　and　spaced　equally　apart。　The　Ford　County　courthouse　was　well　into　its　second　century；　built　after　the　Yankees　burned　the　first　one。　It　defiantly　faced　south；　as　if　telling　those　from　the　North　to　politely　and　eternally　kiss　its　ass。　It　was　old　and　stately；　with　white　columns　along　the　front　and　black　shutters　around　the　dozens　of　windows。　The　original　red　brick　had　long　since　been　painted　white；　and　every　four　years　the　Boy　Scouts　added　a　thick　layer　of　shiny　enamel　for　their　traditional　summer　project。　Several　bond　issues　over　the　years　had　allowed　additions　and　renova