dk.coldfire-第85部分

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ays　had　real　trouble　showing　it；　and　he　could　never　say　it。〃　As　Holly　was　about　to　ask　him　a　question；　he　suddenly　shook　his　head　violently　and　wrenched　his　distorted　face　into　an　expression　of　anguish　so　severe　that　for　an　instant　she　thought　he　was　having　another　stroke。　〃It's　not　all　him。　
　God　knows　it's　not。〃　The　slur　in　his　voice　thickened　when　he　grew　more　emotional。　
　〃I've　got　to　face　it…part　of　the　distance　between　us　is　me；　my　fault；　the　blame　I　put　on　him　that　I　never　should've。〃　
　〃Blame？〃　〃For　Lena。〃　
　A　shadow　of　fear　passed　across　her　heart　and　induced　a　quiver　of　angina…like　pain。　
　She　glanced　at　the　window　that　looked　out　on　a　corner　of　the　courtyard。　
　It　was　not　the　corner　to　which　Jim　had　gone。　She　wondered　where　he　was；　how　he　was。　。　。　who　he　was。　
　〃For　Lena？　I　don't　understand；〃　she　said；　though　she　was　afraid　that　she　did。　
　〃It　seems　unforgivable　to　me　now；　what　I　did；　what　I　allowed　myself　to　think。〃　He　paused；　looking　not　at　her　but　through　her　now；　toward　a　distant　time　and　place。　〃But　he　was　just　so　strange　in　those　days；　not　the　child　he　had　been。　Before　you　can　even　hope　to　understand　what　I　did；　you　have　to　know　that；　after　Atlanta；　he　was　so　very　strange；　all　locked　up　inside。〃　
　Immediately　Holly　thought　of　Sam　and　Emily　Newsome；　whose　lives　Jim　had　saved　in　an　Atlanta　convenience　store…and　Norman　Rink；　into　whom　he　had　pumped　eight　rounds　from　a　shotgun　in　a　blind　rage。　But　Henry　obviously　was　not　talking　about　a　recent　event　in　Atlanta；　he　was　referring　to　some　previous　incident；　much　further　in　the　past。　
　〃You　don't　know　about　Atlanta？〃　he　asked；　reacting　to　her　evident　mystification。　
　A　queer　sound　chittered　through　the　room；　alarming　Holly。　For　an　instant　she　could　not　identify　the　noise；　then　realized　it　was　several　birds　shrieking　the　way　they　did　when　protecting　their　nests。　No　birds　were　in　the　room；　and　she　supposed　their　cries　were　echoing　down　the　fireplace　chimney　from　the　roof　Just　birds。　Their　chatter　faded。　
　She　turned　to　Henry　Ironheart　again。　〃Atlanta？　No；　I　guess　I　don't　know　about　that。〃　
　〃I　didn't　think　you　did。　I'd　be　surprised　if　he　talked　about　it；　even　to　you；　even　if　he　loves　you。　He　just　doesn't　talk　about　it。〃　
　〃What　happened　in　Atlanta？〃　〃It　was　a　place　called　the　Dixie　Duck…〃　〃Oh；　my　God；〃　she　whispered。　She　had　been　there　in　the　dream。　
　〃Then　you　do　know　some　of　it；〃　he　said。　His　eyes　were　pools　of　sorrow。　
　She　felt　her　face　crumple　in　grief；　not　for　Jim's　parents；　whom　she　had　never　known；　and　not　even　for　Henry；　who　presumably　had　loved　them；　but　for　Jim。　〃Oh；　my　God。〃　And　then　she　couldn't　say　any　more　because　her　words　backed　up　behind　her　own　tears。　
　Henry　reached　out　to　her　with　one　liver…spotted　hand；　and　she　took　it；　held　it；　waiting　until　she　could　speak　again。　
　At　the　other　end　of　the　room；　bells　were　ringing；　horns　blaring；　on　the　TV　game　show。　
　No　traffic　accident　had　killed　Jim's　parents。　
　That　story　was　his　way　of　avoiding　a　recounting　of　the　terrible　truth。　
　She　had　known。　She　had　known；　and　refused　to　know。　
　Her　latest　dream　had　not　been　a　warning　prophecy　but　another　memory　that　Jim　had　projected　into　her　mind　as　they　had　both　slept。　She　had　not　been　herself　in　the　dream。　She　had　been　Jim。　Just　as　she　had　been　Lena　in　a　dream　two　nights　ago。　If　a　mirror　had　given　her　a　look　at　her　face；　she　would　have　seen　Jim's　countenance　instead　of　her　own；　as　she　had　seen　Lena's　in　the　windmill　window。　The　horror　of　the　blood…drenched　restaurant　returned　to　her　now　in　vivid　images　that　she　could　not　block　from　memory；　and　she　shuddered　violently。　
　She　looked　toward　the　window；　the　courtyard；　frightened　for　him。　
　〃They　were　performing　for　a　week　at　a　club　in　Atlanta；〃　Henry　said。　
　〃They　went　out　for　lunch　to　Jimmy's　favorite　place；　which　he　remembered　from　the　last　time　they'd　played　Atlanta。〃　
　Voice　trembling；　Holly　said；　〃Who　was　the　gunman？〃　〃Just　a　nut。　That's　what　made　it　so　hard。　No　meaning　to　it。　Just　a　crazy　man。〃　
　〃How　many　people　died？〃　〃A　lot。〃　
　〃How　many；　Henry？〃　〃Twenty…four。〃　
　She　thought　of　young　Jim　Ironheart　in　that　holocaust；　scrambling　for　his　life　through　the　shattered　bodies　of　the　other　customers；　the　room　filled　with　cries　of　pain　and　terror；　reeking　with　the　stench　of　blood　and　vomit；　bile　and　urine　from　the　slaughtered　corpses。　She　heard　the　heavy　sound　of　the　automatic　weapon　again；　chuda…chuda…chuda…chuda…chuda…chuda；　and　the　please…please…please…please　of　the　terrified　young　waitress。　Even　as　a　dream；　it　had　been　almost　beyond　endurance；　all　the　random　horror　of　existence　and　all　the　cruelty　of　humankind　boiled　down　to　one　devastating　experience；　a　savage　ordeal　from　which　full　psychological　recovery；　even　for　an　adult；　would　take　a　lifetime　of　struggle。　For　a　ten…year…old　boy；　recovery　might　seem　impossible；　reality　intolerable；　denial　necessary；　and　fantasy　the　only　tool　with　which　to　hold　on　to　a　shred　of　sanity。　
　〃Jimmy　was　the　only　survivor；〃　Henry　said。　〃If　the　police　had　gotten　there　a　few　seconds　later；　Jimmy　wouldn't　have　made　it　either。　
　They　shot　the　man　down。〃　Henry's　grip　tightened　slightly　on　Holly's　hand。　〃They　found　Jim　in　a　corner；　in　Jamie's　lap；　in　his　daddy's　lap；　his　daddy's　arms；　all　covered　with。　。　。　with　his　daddy's　blood。〃　
　Holly　remembered　the　end　of　the　dream　…the　crazyman　is　ing　straight　at　her；　knocking　tables　and　chairs　aside；　so　she　scrambles　away　and　into　a　corner；　on　top　of　a　dead　body；　and　the　crazyman　is　ing　closer；　closer；　raising　his　gun；　she　can't　bear　to　look　at　him　the　way　the　waitress　looked　at　him　and　then　died；　so　she　turns　her　face　to　the　corpse　…and　she　remembered　awakening　with　a　jolt；　gagging　in　revulsion。　
　If　she'd　had　time　to　look　into　the　face　of　the　corpse；　she　would　have　seen　Jim's　father。　
　The　avian　shriek　shrilled　through　the　recreation　room　again。　It　was　louder　this　time。　A　couple　of　the　ambulatory　residents　went　to　the　fireplace　to　see　if　any　birds　were　caught　behind　the　damper　in　the　chimney。　
　〃In　his　daddy's　blood；〃　Henry　repeated　softly。　It　was　clear　that；　even　after　all　these　years；　the　consideration　of　that　moment　was　intolerably　painful　to　him。　
　The　boy　had　not　only　been　in　his　dead　father's　arms　but　surely　had　known　that　his　mother　lay　dead　among　the　ruins；　and　that　he　was　orphaned；　alone。　
　Jim　sat　on　a　redwood　bench　in　the　Fair　Haven　courtyard。　He　was　alone。　
　For　a　day　late　in　August；　when　the　seasonal　drought　should　have　been　at　its　peak；　the　sky　was　unusually　heavy　with　unshed　moisture；　yet　it　looked　like　an　inverted　bowl　of　ashes。　Mixes　of　late…summer　flowers；　cascading　from　planting　beds　onto　the　wide　concrete　walkways；　were　missing　half　their　color　without　the　enhancement　of　sunshine。　The　trees　shivered　as　if　chilled　by　the　mild　August　breeze。　
　Something　was　ing。　Something　bad　was　ing。　
　He　clung　to　Holly's　theory；　told　himself　that　nothing　would　e　unless　he　caused　it　to　appear。　He　only　had　to　control　himself；　and　they　would　all　survive。　
　But　he　still　felt　it　ing。　
　Something。　
　He　heard　the　screaky　cries　of　birds。　
　The　birds　had　fallen　silent；　After　a　while　Holly　let　go　of　Henry　Ironheart's　hand；　took　some　Kleenex　from　her　purse；　blew　her　nose；　and　blotted　her　eyes。　When　she　could　speak；　she　said；　〃He　blames　himself　for　what　happened　to　his　mom　and　dad。〃　
　〃I　know。　He　always　did。　He'd　never　talk　about　it；　but　there　were　ways　it　showed；　how　he　blamed　himself；　how　he　thought　he　should　have　saved　them。〃　
　〃But　why？　He　was　only　ten　years　old；　a　small　boy。　He　couldn't　have　done　anything　about　a　grown　man　with　a　submachine　gun。　For　God's　sake；　how　could　he　feel　responsible？〃　For　the　moment；　the　brightness　had　gone　out　of　Henry's　eyes。　His　poor　lopsided　face；　already　pulled　down　to　the　right；　was　pulled　down　farther　by　an　inexpressible　sadness。　
　At　last　he　said；　〃I　talked　to　him　about　it　lots　of　times；　took　him　on　my　lap　and　held　him　and　talked　about　it；　like　Lena　did；　too；　but　he　was　so　much　locked　in　himself；　wouldn't　open　up；　wouldn't　say　why　he　blamed　himself　hated　himself〃　Holly　looked　at　her　watch。　
　She　had　left　Jim　alone　too　long。　
　But　she　could　not　interrupt　Henry　Ironheart　in　the　middle　of　the　revelations　that　she　had　e　to　hear。　
　〃I'v