dk.solesurvivor-第49部分

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　a　teacher　pulled　him　off　the　battered　kid　before　he　could　half　blind　him。
　　Afterward；　he　felt　no　remorse。　He　still　didn't。　He　was　not　proud　of　this。　It　was　just　the　way　he　felt。
　　Dorma　knew　that　her　husband's　heart　would　break　a　little　if　he　learned　his　boy　had　gotten　into　trouble　over　him。　She　devised　and　enforced　Joe's　punishment　herself；　and　together　they　concealed　the　incident　from　Frank。
　　That　was　the　beginning　of　Joe's　secret　life　of　quiet　rage　and　periodic　violence。　He　grew　up　looking　for　a　fight　and　usually　finding　one；　but　he　chose　the　moment　and　the　venue　to　ensure　that　his　dad　was　unlikely　to　learn　of　it。
　　Frank　was　a　roofer；　but　there　was　no　scrambling　up　ladders　and　hustling　from　eaves　to　ridgeline　with　one　leg。　He　was　loath　to　take　disability　from　the　government；　but　he　accepted　it　for　a　while；　until　he　found　a　way　to　turn　a　talent　for　woodworking　into　an　occupation。
　　He　made　jewellery　boxes；　lamp　bases；　and　other　items　inlaid　with　exotic　woods　in　intricate　patterns；　and　he　found　shops　that　would　carry　his　creations。　For　a　while；　he　cleared　a　few　dollars　more　than　the　disability　payments；　which　he　relinquished。
　　A　seamstress　in　a　bination　tailor's　shop　and　dry…cleaners；　Donna　came　home　from　work　every　day　with　hair　curled　from　the　steam…press　humidity　and　smelling　of　benzene　and　other　liquid　solvents。　To　this　day；　when　Joe　entered　a　dry…cleaning　establishment；　his　first　breath　brought　vividly　to　mind　his　mother's　hair　and　her　honey…brown　eyes；　which　as　a　child　he'd　thought　were　faded　from　a　darker　brown　by　steam　and　chemicals。
　　Three　years　after　losing　the　leg；　Frank　began　suffering　pain　in　his　knuckles　and　then　his　wrists。　The　diagnosis　was　rheumatoid　arthritis。
　　A　vicious　thing；　this　disease。　And　in　Frank；　it　progressed　with　unmon　speed；　a　fire　spreading　through　him：　the　spinal　joints　in　his　neck；　his　shoulders；　hips；　his　one　remaining　knee。
　　He　shut　down　his　woodworking　business。　There　were　government　programs　providing　assistance；　though　never　enough　and　always　with　the　measure　of　humiliation　that　bureaucrats　dished　out　with　a　hateful…and　often　unconscious…generosity。
　　The　Church　helped　too；　and　charity　from　the　local　parish　was　more　passionately　provided　and　less　humbling　to　receive。　Frank　and　Donna　were　Catholics。　Joe　went　to　Mass　with　them　faithfully　but　without　faith。
　　In　two　years；　already　hampered　by　the　loss　of　one　leg；　Frank　was　in　a　wheelchair。
　　Medical　knowledge　has　advanced　dramatically　in　thirty　years；　but　in　those　days；　treatments　were　less　effective　than　they　are　now…especially　in　cases　as　severe　as　Frank's。　Nonsteroidal　anti…inflammatory　drugs；　injections　of　gold　salts；　and　then　much　later　penicillamine。　Still　the　osteoporosis　progressed。　More　cartilage　and　tendon　tissue　were　lost　from　the　chronic　inflammation。　Muscles　continued　to　atrophy。　Joints　ached　and　swelled。　The　quality　of　immunosuppressant　Corticosteroids　available　at　the　time　somewhat　slowed　but　did　not　halt　the　deformation　of　joints；　the　frightening　loss　of　function。
　　By　the　time　Joe　was　thirteen；　his　daily　routine　included　helping　his　dad　dress　and　bathe　when　his　mother　was　at　work。　From　the　first；　he　never　resented　any　tasks　that　fell　to　him；　to　his　surprise；　he　found　within　himself　a　tenderness　that　was　a　counterweight　to　the　omnipresent　anger　that　he　directed　at　God　but　that　he　inadequately　relieved　on　those　unlucky　boys　with　whom　he　periodically　picked　fights。　For　a　long　time　Frank　was　mortified　to　have　to　rely　on　his　son　for　such　private　matters；　but　eventually　the　shared　challenge　of　bathing；　grooming；　and　toilet　brought　them　closer；　deepened　their　feelings　for　each　other。
　　By　the　time　Joe　was　sixteen；　Frank　was　suffering　with　fibrous　ankylosis。　Huge　rheumatoid　nodules　had　formed　at　several　joints；　including　one　the　size　of　a　golf　ball　on　his　right　wrist。　His　left　elbow　was　deformed　by　a　nodule　almost　as　large　as　the　softball　that　he　had　thrown　so　many　hundreds　of　times　in　backyard　practices　when　Joe　had　been　six　years　old　and　getting　into　Little　League。
　　His　dad　lived　now　for　Joe's　achievements；　so　Joe　was　an　honour　student　in　spite　of　a　part…time　job　at　McDonald's。　He　was　a　star　quarterback　on　the　high…school　football　team。　Frank　never　put　any　pressure　on　him　to　excel。　Love　motivated　Joe。
　　In　the　summer　of　that　year；　he　joined　the　YMCA　Youth　Athletics　Program：　the　boxing　league。　He　was　quick　to　learn；　and　the　coach　liked　him；　said　he　had　talent。　But　in　his　first　two　practice　matches；　he　continued　hammering　punches　into　opponents　after　they　were　sagging　on　the　ropes；　beaten　and　defenceless。　He'd　had　to　be　pulled　off。　To　them；　boxing　was　recreation　and　self…defence；　but　to　Joe　it　was　savage　therapy。　He　didn't　want　to　hurt　anyone；　not　any　specific　individual；　but　he　did　hurt　them；　consequently；　he　was　not　permitted　to　pete　in　the　league。
　　Frank's　chronic　pericarditis；　arising　from　the　rheumatoid　arthritis；　led　to　a　virulent　infection　of　the　pericardium；　which　ultimately　led　to　heart　failure。　Frank　died　two　days　before　Joe's　eighteenth　birthday。
　　The　week　following　the　funeral　Mass；　Joe　visited　the　same　church　after　midnight；　when　it　was　deserted。　He'd　had　too　many　beers。　He　sprayed　black　paint　on　all　the　stations　of　the　cross。　He　overturned　a　cast…stone　statue　of　Our　Lady　and　smashed　a　score　of　the　ruby…red　glasses　from　the　votive…candle　rack。
　　He　might　have　done　considerably　more　damage　if　he　had　not　quickly　been　overe　by　a　sense　of　futility。　He　could　not　teach　remorse　to　God。　He　could　not　express　his　pain　with　sufficient　power　to　penetrate　the　steel　veil　between　this　world　and　the　next…if　there　was　a　next。
　　Slumping　in　the　front　pew；　he　wept。
　　He　sat　there　less　than　a　minute；　however；　because　suddenly　he　felt　that　weeping　in　the　church　might　seem　to　be　an　admission　of　his　powerlessness。　Ludicrously；　he　thought　it　important　that　his　tears　not　be　misconstrued　as　an　acceptance　of　the　cruelty　with　which　the　universe　was　ruled。
　　He　left　the　church　and　was　never　apprehended　for　the　vandalism。　He　felt　no　guilt　about　what　he'd　done…and　again；　no　pride。
　　For　a　while　he　was　crazy；　and　then　he　went　to　college；　where　he　fit　in　because　half　of　the　student　body　was　crazy　too；　with　youth；　and　the　faculty　with　tenure。
　　His　mother　died　just　three　years　later；　at　the　age　of　forty…seven。　Lung　cancer；　spreading　to　the　lymphatic　system。　She　had　never　been　a　smoker。　Neither　had　his　father。　Maybe　it　was　the　fumes　of　the　benzene　and　other　solvents　in　the　dry…cleaner's　shop。　Maybe　it　was　weariness；　loneliness；　and　a　way　out。
　　The　night　she　died；　Joe　sat　at　her　bedside　in　the　hospital；　holding　her　hand；　putting　cold　presses　on　her　brow；　and　slipping　slivers　of　ice　into　her　parched　mouth　when　she　asked　for　them；　while　she　spoke　sporadically；　half　coherently；　about　a　Knights　of　Columbus　dinner　dance　to　which　Frank　had　taken　her　when　Joe　was　only　two；　the　year　before　the　accident　and　amputation。　There　was　a　big　hand　with　eighteen　fine　musicians；　playing　genuine　dance　music；　not　just　shake…in…place　rock…'n'…roll。　She　and　Frank　were　self…taught　in　the　fox　trot；　swing；　and　the　cha…cha；　but　they　weren't　bad。　They　knew　each　other's　moves。　How　they　laughed。　There　were　balloons；　oh；　hundreds　of　balloons；　suspended　in　a　net　from　the　ceiling。　The　centrepiece　on　each　table　was　a　white　plastic　swan　holding　a　fat　candle　surrounded　by　red　chrysanthemums。　Dessert　was　ice　cream　in　a　sugar　swan。　It　was　a　night　of　swans。　The　balloons　were　red　and　white；　hundreds　of　them。　Holding　her　close　in　a　slow　dance；　he　whispered　in　her　ear　that　she　was　the　most　beautiful　woman　in　the　room；　and　oh　how　he　loved　her。　A　revolving　ballroom　chandelier　cast　off　splinters　of　coloured　light；　the　balloons　came　down　red　and　white；　and　the　sugar　swan　tasted　of　almonds　when　it　crunched　between　the　teeth。　She　was　twenty…nine　years　old　the　night　of　the　dance；　and　she　relished　this　memory　and　no　other　through　the　final　hour　of　her　life；　as　though　it　had　been　the　last　good　time　she　could　recall。
　　Joe　buried　her　from　the　same　church　that　he　had　vandalized　two　years　earlier。　The　stations　of　the　cross　had　been　restored。　A　new　statue　of　the　Holy　Mother　watched　over　a　full　plement　of　votive　glasses　on　the　ti