sk.thegunslinger-第13部分

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The　boy　got　up　to　fetch　it；　his　knees　popping　slightly。　He　made　a　fine　straight　figure。　The　desert　had　not　yet　sapped　him。　His　arms　were　thin；　but　the　skin；　although　tanned；　had　not　dried　and　cracked。　He's　got　juice；　the　gunslinger　thought　He　drank　from　the　can　again。　He's　got　juice　and　he　didn't　e　from　this　place。
Jake　came　back　with　a　pile　of　dried　jerky　on　what　looked　like　a　sun…scoured　breadboard。　The　meat　was　tough；　stringy；　and　salty　enough　to　make　the　cankered　lining　of　the　gunslinger's　mouth　sing。　He　ate　and　drank　until　he　felt　logy；　and　then　settled　back。　The　boy　ate　only　a　little。
The　gunslinger　regarded　him　steadily；　and　the　boy　looked　back　at　him。　〃Where　did　you　e　from；　Jake？〃　He　asked　finally。
〃I　don't　know。〃　The　boy　frowned。　〃I　did　know。　I　knew　when　I　came　here；　but　it's　all　fuzzy　now；　like　a　bad　dream　when　you　wake　up。　I　have　lots　of　bad　dreams。〃
〃Did　somebody　bring　you？〃
〃No；〃　the　boy　said。　〃I　was　just　here。〃
〃You're　not　making　any　sense；〃　the　gunslinger　said　flatly。
Quite　suddenly　the　boy　seemed　on　the　verge　of　tears。　〃I　can't　help　it。　I　was　just　here。　And　now　you'll　go　away　and　I'll　starve　because　you　ate　up　almost　all　my　food。　I　didn't　ask　to　be　here。　I　don't　like　it。　It's　spooky。〃
〃Don't　feel　so　sorry　for　yourself。　Make　do。〃
〃I　didn't　ask　to　be　here；〃　the　boy　repeated　bewildered　defiance。
The　gunslinger　ate　another　piece　of　the　meat；　chewing　the　salt　out　of　it　before　swallowing。　The　boy　had　bee　part　of　it；　and　the　gunslinger　was　convinced　he　told　the　truth　he　had　not　asked　for　it。　It　was　too　bad。　He　himself　。。。　he　had　asked　for　it　But　he　had　not　asked　for　the　game　to　bee　this　dirty。　He　had　not　asked　to　be　allowed　to　turn　his　guns　on　the　unarmed　populace　of　Tull；　had　not　asked　to　shoot　Allie；　her　face　marked　by　that　strange；　shining　scar；　had　not　asked　to　be　faced　with　a　choice　between　the　obsession　of　his　duty　and　his　quest　and　criminal　amorality。　The　man　in　black　had　begun　to　pull　bad　strings　in　his　desperation；　if　it　was　the　man　in　black　who　had　pulled　this　particular　string。　It　was　not　fair　to　ring　in　innocent　bystanders　and　make　them　speak　lines　they　didn't　understand　on　a　strange　stage。　Allie；　he　thought　Allie　at　least　had　been　into　the　world　in　her　own　self…illusory　way。　But　this　boy。。。　this　God…damned　boy。。。。
〃Tell　me　what　you　can　remember；〃　he　told　Jake。
〃It's　only　a　little。　It　doesn't　seem　to　make　any　sense　any　more。〃
〃Tell　me。　Maybe　I　can　pick　up　the　sense。
〃There　was　a　place。。。　the　one　before　this　one。　A　high　place　with　lots　of　rooms　and　a　patio　where　you　could　look　at　tall　buildings　and　water。　There　was　a　statue　that　stood　in　the　water。〃
〃A　statue　in　the　water？〃
〃Yes。　A　lady　with　a　crown　and　a　torch。〃
〃Are　you　making　this　up？〃
〃I　guess　I　must　be；〃　the　boy　said　hopelessly。　〃There　were　things　to　ride　in　on　the　streets。　Big　ones　and　little　ones。　Yellow　ones。　A　lot　of　yellow　ones。　I　walked　to　school。　There　were　cement　paths　beside　the　streets。　Windows　to　look　in　and　more　statues　wearing　clothes。　The　statues　sold　the　clothes。　I　know　it　sounds　crazy；　but　the　statues　sold　the　clothes。〃
The　gunslinger　shook　his　head　and　looked　for　a　lie　on　the　boy's　face。　He　saw　none。
〃I　walked　to　school；〃　the　boy　repeated　fixedly。　〃And　I　had　a　　〃His　eyes　tilted　closed　and　his　lips　moved　gropingly。〃　　a　brown。。。　book。。。　bag。　I　carried　a　lunch。　And　I　wore　　〃the　groping　again；　agonized　groping〃　　a　tie。〃
〃A　what？〃
〃I　don't　know。〃　The　boy's　fingers　made　a　slow；　unconscious　clinching　motion　at　his　throat　　a　gesture　the　gun…slinger　associated　with　hanging。　〃I　don't　know。　It's　just　all　gone。〃　And　he　looked　away。
〃May　I　put　you　to　sleep？〃　The　gunslinger　asked。　〃I'm　not　sleepy。〃
〃I　can　make　you　sleepy；　and　I　can　make　you　remember。〃
Doubtfully；　Jake　asked；　〃How　could　you　do　that？〃
〃With　this。〃
The　gunslinger　removed　one　of　the　shells　from　his　gunbelt　and　twirled　it　in　his　fingers。　The　movement　was　dexterous；　as　flowing　as　oil。　The　shell　cartwheeled　effortlessly　from　thumb　and　index　and　index　and　second；　to　second　and　ring；　to　ring　and　pinky。　It　popped　out　of　sight　and　reappeared；　seemed　to　float　briefly；　and　then　reversed。　The　shell　walked　across　the　gunslinger's　fingers。　The　fingers　themselves　moved　like　a　beaded　curtain　in　a　breeze。　The　boy　watched；　his　initial　doubt　replaced　with　plain　delight；　then　by　raptness；　then　by　a　dawning　mute　blankness。　The　eyes　slipped　shut　The　shell　danced　back　and　forth。　Jake's　eyes　opened　again；　caught　the　steady；　limpid　dance　between　the　gunslinger's　fingers　for　a　while　longer；　and　then　his　eyes　closed　once　more。　The　gunslinger　continued；　but　Jake's　eyes　did　not　open　again。　The　boy　breathed　with　steady；　bovine　calmness。　Was　this　part　of　it？　Yes。　There　was　a　certain　beauty；　a　logic；　like　the　lacy　frettings　that　fringe　hard　blue　ice…packs。　He　seemed　to　hear　the　the　sky；　and　in　his　desert…scoured　ears；　the　gunslinger　heard　the　faint　sweet　sound　of　wind…chimes。
〃Where　are　you？〃　he　asked。
Jake　Chambers　is　going　downstairs　with　his　book　bag　There　is　Earth　Science；　there　is　Economic　Geography；　there　is　a　notepad；　a　pencil；　a　lunch　his　mother's　cook；　Mrs。　Greta　Shaw；　has　made　for　him　in　the　chrome…and…formica　kitchen　where　a　fan　whirrs　eternally；　sucking　up　alien　odors。　In　his　lunch　sack　he　has　a　peanut　butter　and　jelly　sandwich；　a　bologna；　lettuce；　and　onion　sandwich；　and　four　Oreo　cookies。　His　parents　do　not　hate　him；　but　they　seem　to　have　overlooked　him。　They　have　abdicated　and　left　him　to　Mrs。　Greta　Shaw；　to　nannies；　to　a　tutor　in　the　summer　and　The　School　（which　is　Private　and　Nice；　and　most　of　all；　White）　the　rest　of　the　time。　None　of　these　people　have　ever　pretended　to　be　more　than　what　they　are　　professional　people；　the　best　in　their　fields。　None　have　folded　him　to　a　particularly　warm　bosom　as　usually　happens　in　the　historical　novels　his　mother　reads　and　which　fake　has　dipped　into；　looking　for　the　〃hot　parts。　〃Hysterical　novels；　his　fat　her　sometimes　calls　them；　and　sometimes；　〃bod
Jake　does　not　know　that　he　hates　all　the　professional　people；　but　he　does。　People　have　always　bewildered　him。　He　likes　stairs　and　will　not　use　the　self…service　elevator　in　his　building　His　mother；　who　is　scrawny　in　a　sexy　way；　often　goes　to　bed　with　sick　friends。
Now　he　is　on　the　street；　Jake　Chambers　is　on　the　street；　he　has　〃Hit　the　bricks。〃　He　is　clean　and　well…mannered；　ely；　sensitive。　He　has　no　friends；　only　acquaintances。　He　has　never　bothered　to　think　about　this；　but　it　hurts　him。　He　does　not　know　or　understand　that　a　long　association　with　professional　people　has　caused　him　to　take　many　of　their　traits。　Mrs。　Greta　Shaw　makes　hands　folded　in　his　lap；　still　breathing　calmly。　He　had　told　his　tale　without　much　emotion；　although　his　voice　had　trembled　near　the　end；　when　he　had　e　to　the　part　about　the　〃priest〃　and　the　〃Act　of　Contrition。〃　He　had　not；　of　course；　told　the　gunslinger　about　his　family　and　his　own　sense　of　bewildered　dichotomy；　but　that　had　seeped　through　anyway　　enough　had　seeped　through　to　make　out　its　shape。　The　fact　that　there　had　never　been　such　a　city　as　the　boy　described　（or；　if　so；　it　had　only　existed　in　the　myth　of　prehistory）　was　not　the　most　upsetting　part　of　the　story；　but　it　was　disturbing。　It　was　all　disturbing。　The　gunslinger　was　afraid　of　the　implications。
〃Jake？〃
〃Uh…huh？〃
〃Do　you　want　to　remember　this　when　you　wake　up；　or　forget　it？〃
〃Forget　it；〃　the　boy　said　promptly。　〃I　bled。〃
〃All　right　You're　going　to　sleep；　understand？　Go　ahead　and　lie　over。〃
Jake　laid　over；　looking　small　and　peaceful　and　harmless。　The　gunslinger　did　not　believe　he　was　harmless。　There　was　a　deadly　feeling　about　him；　and　the　stink　of　predestination。　He　didn't　like　the　feeling；　but　he　liked　the　boy。　He　liked　him　a　great　deal。
〃Jake？〃
〃Shhh。　I　want　to　sleep。〃
〃Yes。　And　when　you　wake　up　you　won't　remember　any　of　this。〃
〃Kay。〃
The　gunslinger　watched　him　for　a　brief　time；　thinking　of　own　boyhood；　which　usually　seemed　to　have　happened　to　another　person　　to　a　person　who　had　jumped　through　some　osmotic　lens　and　bee　someone　else　but　which　now　seemed　poignantly　close。　It　was　very　hot　in　the　stable　of　the　way　station；　and　he　carefully　drank　some　more　water。　He　got　up　and　walked　to　the　back　of　the　building；　pausing　to　look　into　one　of　the　horse　stalls。　There　was　a　small　pile　of　white　hay　in　the　co