sk.theshining-第77部分
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〃Tony！〃 he screamed。
But Tony was gone and suddenly he was in a dark room。 But not entirely dark。
Muted light spilling from somewhere。 It was Mommy and Daddy's bedroom。 He could see Daddy's desk。 But the room was a dreadful shambles。 He had been in this room before。 Mommy's record player overturned on the floor。 Her records scattered on the rug。 The mattress half off the bed。 Pictures ripped from the walls。 His cot lying on its side like a dead dog； the Violent Violet Volkswagen crushed to purple shards of plastic。
The light was ing from the bathroom door； half…open。 Just beyond it a hand dangled limply； blood dripping from the tips of the fingers。 And in the medicine cabinet mirror； the word REDRUM flashing off and on。
Suddenly a huge clock in a glass bowl materialized in front of it。 There were no hands or numbers on the clockface； only a date written in red： DECEMBER 2。
And then； eyes widening in horror； he saw the word REDRUM reflecting dimly from the glass dome； now reflected twice。 And he saw that it spelled MURDER。
Danny Torrance screamed in wretched terror。 The date was gone from the clockface。 The clockface itself was gone； replaced by a circular black hole that swelled and swelled like a dilating iris。 It blotted out everything and he fell forward； beginning to fall； falling； he was…
* * *
…falling off the chair。
For a moment he lay on the ballroom floor； breathing bard。
REDRUM。
MURDER。
REDRUM。
MURDER。
（The Red Death held sway over all！） （Unmask！ Unmask！） And behind each glittering lovely mask； the as…yet unseen face of the shape that chased him down these dark hallways； its red eyes widening； blank and homicidal。
Oh； he was afraid of what face might e to light when the time for unmasking came around at last。
（DICK！） he screamed with all his might。 His head seemed to shiver with the force of it。
（！！！ OH DICK OH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE E ！！！） Above him the clock he had wound with the silver key continued to mark off the seconds and minutes and hours。
P A R T F I V E
Matters of Life and Death
》
FLORIDA
Mrs。 Hallorann's third son； Dick； dressed in his cook's whites； a Lucky Strike parked in the corner of his mouth； backed his reclaimed Cadillac limo out of its space behind the One…A Wholesale Vegetable Mart and drove slowly around the building。 Masterton； part owner now but still walking with the patented shuffle he had adopted back before World War II； was pushing a bin of lettuces into the high； dark building。
Hallorann pushed the button that lowered the passenger side window and hollered： 〃Those avocadoes is too damn high； you cheapskate！〃 Masterton looked back over his shoulder； grinned widely enough to expose all three gold teeth； and yelled back； 〃And I know exactly where you can put em； my good buddy。〃
〃Remarks like that I keep track of； bro。〃 Masterton gave him the finger。 Hallorann returned the pliment。
〃Get your cukes； did you？〃 Masterton asked。
〃I did。〃
〃You e back early tomorrow； I gonna give you some of the nicest new potatoes you ever seen。〃
〃I send the boy；〃 Hallorann said。 〃You in up tonight？〃
〃You supplyin the juice； bro？〃
〃That's a big ten…four。〃
〃I be there。 You keep that thing off the top end goin home； you hear me？ Every cop between here an St。 Pete knows your name。〃
〃You know all about it； huh？〃 Hallorann asked； grinning。
〃I know more than you'll ever learn； my man。〃
〃Listen to this sassy nigger。 Would you listen？〃
〃Go on； get outta here fore I start throwin these lettuces。〃
〃Go on an throw em。 I'll take anything for free。〃 Masterton made as if to throw one。 Hallorann ducked； rolled up the window； and drove on。 He was feeling fine。 For the last half hour or so he had been smelling oranges； but he didn't find that queer。 For the last half hour he had been in a fruit and vegetable market。
It was 4：30 p。m。； EST； the first day of December； Old Man Winter settling his frostbitten rump firmly onto most of the country； but down here the men wore open…throated shortsleeve shirts and the women were in light summer dresses and shorts。 On top of the First Bank of Florida building； a digital thermometer bordered with huge grapefruits was flashing 79° over and over。 Thank God for Florida； Hallorann thought； mosquitoes and all。
In the back of the limo were two dozen avocados； a crate of cucumbers； ditto oranges； ditto grapefruit。 Three shopping sacks filled with Bermuda onions； the sweetest vegetable a loving God ever created； some pretty good sweet peas； which would be served with the entree and e back uneaten nine times out of ten； and a single blue Hubbard squash that was strictly for personal consumption。
Hallorann stopped in the turn lane at the Vermont Street light； and when the green arrow showed he pulled out onto state highway 219； pushing up to forty and holding it there until the town began to trickle away into an exurban sprawl of gas stations； Burger Kings； and McDonalds。 It was a small order today； he could have sent Baedecker after it； but Baedecker had been chafing for his chance to buy the meat； and besides； Hallorann never missed a chance to bang it back and forth with Frank Masterton if he could help it。 Masterton might show up tonight to watch some TV and drink Hallorann's Bushmill's； or he might not。 Either way was all right。 But seeing him mattered。 Every time it mattered now； because they weren't young anymore。 In the last few days it seemed he was thinking of that very fact a great deal。 Not so young anymore； when you got up near sixty years old （ortell the truth and save a lie…past it） you had to start thinking about stepping out。 You could go anytime。 And that had been on his mind this week； not in a heavy way but as a fact。 Dying was a part of living。 You had to keep tuning in to that if you expected to be a whole person。 And if the fact of your own death was hard to understand； at least it wasn't impossible to accept。
Why this should have been on his mind he could not have said； but his other reason for getting this small order himself was so he could step upstairs to the small office over Frank's Bar and Grill。 There was a lawyer up there now （the dentist who had been there last year had apparently gone broke）； a young black fellow named McIver。 Hallorann had stepped in and told this McIver that he wanted to make a will； and could McIver help him out？ Well； McIver asked； how soon do you want the document？ Yesterday； said Hallorann； and threw his head back and laughed。 Have you got anything plicated in mind？ was McIver's next question。 Hallorann did not。 He had his Cadillac； his bank account…some nine thousand dollars…a piddling checking account； and a closet of clothes。 He wanted it all to go to his sister。 And if your sister predeceases you？ McIver asked。 Never mind； Hallorann said。 If that happens； I'll make a new will。 The document had been pleted and signed in less than three hours…fast work for a shyster…and now resided in Hallorann's breast pocket； folded into a stiff blue envelope with the word WILL on the outside in Old English letters。
He could not have said why he had chosen this warm sunny day when he felt so well to do something he had been putting off for years； but the impulse had e on him and he hadn't said no。 He was used to following his hunches。
He was pretty well out of town now。 He cranked the limo up to an illegal sixty and let it ride there in the left…hand lane； sucking up most of the Petersburg… bound traffic。 He knew from experience that the limo would still ride as solid as iron at ninety； and even at a hundred and twenty it didn't seem to lighten up much。 But his screamin days were long gone。 The thought of putting the limo up to a hundred and twenty on a straight stretch only scared him。 He was getting old。
（Jesus； those oranges smell strong。 Wonder if they gone over？） Bugs splattered against the window。 He dialed the radio to a Miami soul station and got the soft； wailing voice of Al Green。
〃What a beautiful time we had together； Now it's gett
