sk.theshining-第52部分

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gh　the　gate；　that　lion　had　been　on　the　right　and　he　was　quite　sure　its　tail　had　been　curled　around　it。
　　They　were　no　longer　protecting　the　path；　they　were　blocking　it。
　　Jack　put　his　hand　suddenly　over　his　eyes　and　then　took　it　away。　The　picture　didn't　change。　A　soft　sigh；　too　quiet　to　be　a　groan；　escaped　him。　In　his　drinking　days　he　had　always　been　afraid　of　something　like　this　happening。　But　when　you　were　a　heavy　drinker　you　called　it　the　DTs…good　old　Ray　Milland　in　Lost　Weekend；　seeing　the　bugs　ing　out　of　the　walls。
　　What　did　you　call　it　when　you　were　cold　sober？
　　The　question　was　meant　to　be　rhetorical；　but　his　mind　answered　it　（you　call　it　insanity）　nevertheless。
　　Staring　at　the　hedge　animals；　he　realized　something　had　changed　while　he　had　his　hand　over　his　eyes。　The　dog　had　moved　closer。　No　longer　crouching；　it　seemed　to　be　in　a　running　posture；　haunches　flexed；　one　front　leg　forward；　the　other　back。　The　hedge　mouth　yawned　wider；　the　pruned　sticks　looked　sharp　and　vicious。
　　And　now　he　fancied　he　could　see　faint　eye　indentations　in　the　greenery　as　well。
　　Looking　at　him。
　　Why　do　they　have　to　be　trimmed？　he　thought　hysterically。　They're　perfect。
　　Another　soft　sound。　He　involuntarily　backed　up　a　step　when　he　looked　at　the　lions。　One　of　the　two　on　the　right　seemed　to　have　drawn　slightly　ahead　of　the　other。　Its　head　was　lowered。　One　paw　had　stolen　almost　all　the　way　to　the　low　fence。　Dear　God；　what　next？
　　（next　it　leaps　over　and　gobbles　you　up　like　something　in　an　evil　nursery　fable）　It　was　like　that　game　they　had　played　when　they　were　kids；　red　light。　One　person　was　〃it；〃　and　while　he　turned　his　back　and　counted　to　ten；　the　other　players　crept　forward。　When　〃it〃　got　to　ten；　he　whirled　around　and　if　he　caught　anyone　moving；　they　were　out　of　the　game。　The　others　remained　frozen　in　statue　postures　until　〃it〃　turned　his　back　and　counted　again。　They　got　closer　and　closer；　and　at　last；　somewhere　between　five　and　ten；　you　would　feel　a　hand　on　your　back。　。　。
　　Gravel　rattled　on　the　path。
　　He　jerked　his　head　around　to　look　at　the　dog　and　it　was　halfway　down　the　pathway；　just　behind　the　lions　now；　its　mouth　wide　and　yawning。　Before；　it　had　only　been　a　hedge　clipped　in　the　general　shape　of　a　dog；　something　that　lost　all　definition　when　you　got　up　close　to　it。　But　now　Jack　could　see　that　it　had　been　clipped　to　look　like　a　German　shepherd；　and　shepherds　could　be　mean。　You　could　train　shepherds　to　kill。
　　A　low　rustling　sound。
　　The　lion　on　the　left　had　advanced　all　the　way　to　the　fence　now；　its　muzzle　was　touching　the　boards。　It　seemed　to　be　grinning　at　him。　Jack　backed　up　another　two　steps。　His　head　was　thudding　crazily　and　he　could　feel　the　dry　rasp　of　his　breath　in　his　throat。　Now　the　buffalo　had　moved；　circling　to　the　right；　behind　and　around　the　rabbit。　The　head　was　lowered；　the　green　hedge　horns　pointing　at　him。　The　thing　was；　you　couldn't　watch　all　of　them。　Not　all　at　once。
　　He　began　to　make　a　whining　sound；　unaware　in　his　locked　concentration　that　he　was　making　any　sound　at　all。　His　eyes　darted　from　one　hedge　creature　to　the　next；　trying　to　see　them　move。　The　wind　gusted；　making　a　hungry　rattling　sound　in　the　close…matted　branches。　What　kind　of　sound　would　there　be　if　they　got　him？
　　But　of　course　he　knew。　A　snapping；　rending；　breaking　sound。　It　would　be…　（no　no　NO　NO　I　WILL　NOT　BELIEVE　THIS　NOT　AT　ALL！）　He　clapped　his　hands　over　his　eyes；　clutching　at　his　hair；　his　forehead；　his　throbbing　temples。　And　he　stood　like　that　for　a　long　time；　dread　building　until　he　could　stand　it　no　longer　and　he　pulled　his　hands　away　with　a　cry。
　　By　the　putting　green　the　dog　was　sitting　up；　as　if　begging　for　a　scrap。　The　buffalo　was　gazing　with　disinterest　back　toward　the　roque　court；　as　it　had　been　when　Jack　had　e　down　with　the　clippers。　The　rabbit　stood　on　its　hind　legs；　ears　up　to　catch　the　faintest　sound；　freshly　clipped　belly　exposed。　The　lions；　rooted　into　place；　stood　beside　the　path。
　　He　stood　frozen　for　a　long　time；　the　harsh　breath　in　his　throat　finally　slowing。　He　reached　for　his　cigarettes　and　shook　four　of　them　out　onto　the　gravel。　He　stooped　down　and　picked　them　up；　groped　for　them；　never　taking　his　eyes　from　the　topiary　for　fear　the　animals　would　begin　to　move　again。　He　picked　them　up；　stuffed　three　carelessly　back　into　the　pack；　and　lit　the　fourth。　After　two　deep　drags　he　dropped　it　and　crushed　it　out。　He　went　to　the　hedge…clipper　and　picked　it　up。
　　〃I'm　very　tired；〃　be　said；　and　now　it　seemed　okay　to　talk　out　loud。　It　didn't　seem　crazy　at　all。　〃I've　been　under　a　strain。　The　wasps　。　。　。　the　play　。　。　。　Al　calling　me　like　that。　But　it's　all　right。〃　He　began　to　trudge　back　up　to　the　hotel。　Part　of　his　mind　tugged　fretfully　at　him；　tried　to　make　him　detour　around　the　hedge　animals；　but　he　went　directly　up　the　gravel　path；　through　them。　A　faint　breeze　rattled　through　them；　that　was　all。　He　had　imagined　the　whole　thing。　He　had　had　a　bad　scare　but　it　was　over　now。
　　In　the　Overlook's　kitchen　he　paused　to　take　two　Excedrin　and　then　went　downstairs　and　looked　at　papers　until　he　heard　the　dim　sound　of　the　hotel　truck　rattling　into　the　driveway。　He　went　up　to　meet　them。　He　felt　all　right。　He　saw　no　need　to　mention　his　hallucination。　He'd　had　a　bad　scare　but　it　was　over　now。
　　　
　　　》
　　SNOW
　　
　　It　was　dusk。
　　They　stood　on　the　porch　in　the　fading　light；　Jack　in　the　middle；　his　left　arm　around　Danny's　shoulders　and　his　right　arm　around　Wendy's　waist。　Together　they　watched　as　the　decision　was　taken　out　of　their　hands。
　　The　sky　had　been　pletely　clouded　over　by　two…thirty　and　it　had　begun　to　snow　an　hour　later；　and　this　time　you　didn't　need　a　weatherman　to　tell　you　it　was　serious　snow；　no　flurry　that　was　going　to　melt　or　blow　away　when　the　evening　wind　started　to　whoop。　At　first　it　had　fallen　in　perfectly　straight　lines；　building　up　a　snowcover　that　coated　everything　evenly；　but　now；　an　hour　after　it　had　started；　the　wind　had　begun　to　blow　from　the　northwest　and　the　snow　had　begun　to　drift　against　the　porch　and　the　sides　of　the　Overlook's　driveway。
　　Beyond　the　grounds　the　highway　had　disappeared　under　an　even　blanket　of　white。
　　The　hedge　animals　were　also　gone；　but　when　Wendy　and　Danny　had　gotten　home；　she　had　mended　him　on　the　good　job　he　had　done。　Do　you　think　so？　he　had　asked；　and　said　no　more。　Now　the　hedges　were　buried　under　amorphous　white　cloaks。
　　Curiously；　all　of　them　were　thinking　different　thoughts　but　feeling　the　same　emotion：　relief。　The　bridge　had　been　crossed。
　　〃Will　it　ever　be　spring？〃　Wendy　murmured。
　　Jack　squeezed　her　tighter。　〃Before　you　know　it。　What　do　you　say　we　go　in　and　have　some　supper？　It's　cold　out　here。〃　She　smiled。　All　afternoon　Jack　had　seemed　distant　and　。　。　。　well；　odd。　Now　he　sounded　more　like　his　normal　self。　〃Fine　by　me。　How　about　you；　Danny？〃
　　〃Sure。〃　So　they　went　in　together；　leaving　the　wind　to　build　to　the　low…pitched　scream　that　would　go　on　all　night…a　sound　they　would　get　to　know　well。　Flakes　of　snow　swirled　and　danced　across　the　porch。　The　Overlook　faced　it　as　it　had　for　nearly　three　quarters　of　a　century；　its　darkened　windows　now　bearded　with　snow；　indifferent　to　the　fact　that　it　was　now　cut　off　from　the　world。　Or　possibly　it　was　pleased　with　the　prospect。　Inside　its　shell　the　three　of　them　went　about　their　early　evening　routine；　like　microbes　trapped　in　the　intestine　of　a　monster。
　　　
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　　INSIDE　217
　　
　　A　week　and　a　half　later　two　feet　of　snow　lay　white　and　crisp　and　even　on　the　grounds　of　the　Overlook　Hotel。　The　hedge　menagerie　was　buried　up　to　its　haunches；　the　rabbit；　frozen　on　its　hind　legs；　seemed　to　be　rising　from　a　white　pool。　Some　of　the　drifts　were　over　five　feet　deep。　The　wind　was　constantly　changing　them；　sculpting　them　into　sinuous；　dunelike　shapes。　Twice　Jack　had　snowshoed　clumsily　around　to　the　equipment　shed　for　his　shovel　to　clear　the　porch；　the　third　time　he　shrugged；　simply　cleared　a　path　through　the　towering　drift　lying　against　the　door；　and　let　Danny　amuse　himself　by　sledding　to　the　right　and　left　of　the　path。　The　truly　heroic　drifts　lay　against　the　Overlook's　west　side；　some　of　them　towered　to　a　height　of　twenty　feet；　and　beyond　them　the　ground　was　sc