sk.carrie-第16部分

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'No；'　she　said；　and　in　her　sudden　pensiveness　she　could　have　been　mistaken　for　beautiful。　'It　will　be　a　nightmare。'
'I　don't　have　tickets；'　he　said；　as　if　he　hadn't　heard。　'This　is　the　last　day　they　sell　them。'
'Hey；　Tommy；　you're　going　the　wrong　way！'　Brent　Gillian　yelled。
She　stopped。　'You're　going　to　be　late。'
'Will　you？'
'Your　class；'　she　said　distraught。　'Your　class。　The　bell　is　going　to　ring。'
'Will　you？'
'Yes；'　she　said　with　angry　helplessness。　'You　knew　I　would。'　She　swiped　at　her　eyes　with　the　back　of　her　hand。
'No；'　he　said。　'But　now　I　do。　I'll　pick　you　up　at　seventhirty。'
'Fine；'　she　whispered。　‘Thank　you。'　She　looked　as　if　she　might　swoon。
And　then；　more　uncertain　than　ever；　he　touched　her　hand。
From　The　Shadow　Exploded　（pp。　74…76）：
Probably　no　other　aspect　of　the　Carrie　White　affair　had　been　so　misunderstood；　second…guessed；　and　shrouded　in　mystery　as　the　part　played　by　Thomas　Everett　Ross；　Carrie's　ill…starred　escort　to　the　Ewen　High　School　Spring　Ball。
Morton　Cratzchbarken；　in　an　admittedly　sensationalized　address　to　The　National　Colloquium　on　Psychic　Phenomena　last　year；　said　that　the　two　most　stunning　events　of　the　twentieth　century　have　been　the　assassination　of　John　F。　Kennedy　in　1963　and　the　destruction　that　came　to　Chamberlain；　Maine；　in　May　of　1979。　Cratzchbarken　points　out　that　both　events　were　driven　home　to　the　citizenry　by　mass　media；　and　both　events　have　almost　shouted　the　frightening　fact　that；　while　something　had　ended；　something　else　had　been　irrevocably　set　in　motion；　for　good　or　ill。　If　the　parison　can　be　made；　then　Thomas　Ross　played　the　part　of　Lee　Harvey　Oswald　…　trigger　man　in　a　catastrophe。　The　question　that　still　remains　is：　Did　he　do　so　wittingly　or　unwittingly？
Susan　Snell；　by　her　own　admission；　was　to　have　been　escorted　by　Ross　to　the　annual　event。　She　claims　that　she　suggested　Ross　take　Carrie　to　make　up　for　her　part　in　the　shower…room　incident。　Those　who　oppose　this　story；　most　lately　led　by　George　Jerome　of　Harvard；　claim　that　this　is　either　a　highly　romantic　distortion　or　an　outright　lie。　Jerome　argues　with　great　force　and　eloquence　that　it　is　hardly　typical　of　high…school…age　adolescents　to　feel　that　they　have　to　'atone'　for　anything　…　particularly　for　an　offence　against　a　peer　who　has　been　ostracized　from　existing　cliques。
'It　would　be　uplifting　if　we　could　believe　that　adolescent　human　nature　is　capable　of　salvaging　the　pride　and　self　image　of　the　low　bird　in　the　pecking　order　with　such　a　gesture；'　Jerome　has　said　in　a　recent　issue　of　The　Atlantic　Monthly；　'but　we　know　better。　The　low　bird　is　not　picked　tenderly　out　of　the　dust　by　its　fellows；　rather；　it　is　despatched　quickly　and　without　mercy。'
Jerome；　of　course；　is　absolutely　right…about　birds；　at　any　rate　…　and　his　eloquence　is　undoubtedly　responsible　in　large　part　for　the　advancement　of　the　'practical　joker'　theory；　which　The　White　mission　approached　but　did　not　actually　state。　This　theory　hypothesizes　that　Ross　and　Christine　Hargensen　（see　pp。　10…18）　were　at　the　centre　of　a　loose　conspiracy　to　get　Carrie　White　to　the　Spring　Ball；　and；　once　there；　plete　her　humiliation。　Some　theorists　（mostly　crime　writers）　also　claim　that　Sue　Snell　was　an　active　part　of　this　conspiracy。　This　casts　the　mysterious　Mr　Ross　in　the　worst　possible　light；　that　of　a　practical　joker　deliberately　manoeuvring　an　unstable　girl　into　an　situation　of　extreme　stress。
The　author　doesn't　believe　that　likely　in　fight　of　Mr　Ross's　character。　This　is　a　facet　which　has　remained　largely　unexplored　by　his　detractors；　who　have　painted　him　as　a　rather　dull　clique…centred　athlete；　the　phrase　'dumb　jock'　expresses　this　view　of　Tommy　Ross　perfectly。
It　is　true　that　Ross　was　an　athlete　of　above…average　ability。　His　best　sport　was　baseball；　and　he　was　a　member　of　the　Ewen　varsity　squad　from　his　Sophomore　year。　Dick　O'Connell；　general　manager　of　the　Boston　Red　Sox；　has　indicated　that　Ross　would　have　been　offered　a　fairly　large　bonus　for　signing　a　contract；　had　he　lived。
But　Ross　was　also　a　straight…A　student　（hardly　fitting　the　'dumb…jock'　image）；　and　his　parents　have　both　said　that　he　had　decided　pro　baseball　would　have　to　wait　until　he　had　finished　college；　where　he　planned　to　study　for　an　English　degree。　His　interests　including　writing　poetry；　and　a　poem　written　six　months　prior　to　his　death　was　published　in　an　established　'little　magazine'　called　Everleaf。　This　is　available　in　Appendix　V。
His　surviving　classmates　also　give　him　high　marks；　and　this　is　significant。　There　were　only　twelve　survivors　of　what　has　bee　known　in　the　popular　press　as　Prom　Night。　Those　who　were　not　in　attendance　were　largely　the　unpopular　members　of　the　Junior　and　Senior　classes。　If　these　'outs'　remember　Ross　as　a　friendly；　goodnatured　fellow　（many　referred　to　him　as　'a　hell　of　a　good　shit'）；　does　not　Professor　Jerome's　thesis　suffer　accordingly'
Ross's　school　records　…　which　cannot；　according　to　state　law；　be　photostated　here　…　when　taken　with　class　mates'　recollections　and　the　ments　of　relatives；　neighbours；　and　teachers；　form　a　picture　of　an　extraordinary　young　man。　This　is　a　fact　that　jells　very　badly　with　Professor　Jerome's　picture　of　a　peer…worshipping；　sly　young　tough。　He　apparently　had　a　high　enough　tolerance　to　verbal　abuse　and　enough　independence　from　his　peer　group　to　ask　Carrie　in　the　first　place。　In　fact；　Thomas　Ross　appears　to　have　been　something　of　a　rarity　…　a　socially　conscious　young　man。
No　case　will　be　made　here　for　his　sainthood。　There　is　none　to　be　made。　But　intensive　research　has　satisfied　me　that　neither　was　he　a　human　chicken　in　a　public…school　barnyard；　joining　mindlessly　in　the　ruin　of　a　weaker　hen　。。。
She　lay
（i　am　not　afraid　not　afraid　of　her）
on　her　bed　with　an　arm　thrown　over　her　eyes。　It　was　Saturday　night。　If　she　was　to　make　the　dress　she　had　in　mind；　she　would　have　to　start　tomorrow　at　the
（i'm　not　afraid　momma）
latest。　She　had　already　bought　the　material　at　John's　in　Westover。　The　heavy；　crumpled　velvet　richness　of　it　frightened　her。　The　price　had　also　frightened　her；　and　she　had　been　intimidated　by　the　size　of　the　place；　the　chic　ladies　wandering　here　and　here　in　their　light　spring　dresses；　examining　bolts　of　cloth。　There　was　an　echoing　strangeness　in　the　atmosphere　and　it　was　worlds　from　the　Chamberlain　Woolworth's　where　she　usually　bought　her　material。
She　was　intimidated　but　not　stopped。　Bemuse；　if　she　wanted　to；　she　could　send　them　all　screaming　into　the　streets。　Mannequins　toppling　over；　light　fixtures　failing；　bolts　of　cloth　shooting　through　the　air　in　unwinding　shelters。　Like　Samson　in　the　temple；　she　could　rain　destruction　on　their　heads　if　she　so　desired。
（i　am　not　afraid）
The　package　was　now　hidden　on　a　dry　shelf　in　the　cellar；　and　she　was　going　to　bring　it　up。　Tonight。
She　opened　her　eyes。
Flex。
The　bureau　rose　into　the　air；　trembled　for　a　moment　and　then　rose　until　it　nearly　touched　the　ceiling。　She　lowered　it。　Lifted　it。　Lowered　it。　Now　the　bed；　plete　with　her　weight。　Up。　Down。　Up。　Down。　Just　like　an　elevator。
She　was　hardly　tired　at　all。　Well；　a　little。　Not　much。　The　ability；　almost　lost　two　weeks　ago；　was　in　full　flower。　It　had　progressed　at　a　speed　that　was
Well；　almost　terrifying。
And　now；　seemingly　unbidden　…　like　the　knowledge　of　menstruation　…　a　score　of　memories　had　e；　as　if　some　mental　dam　had　been　knocked　down　so　that　strange　waters　could　gush　forth。　They　were　cloudy；　distorted　little…girl　memories；　but　very　real　for　all　that。　Making　the　pictures　dance　on　the　walls；　turning　on　the　water　faucets　from　across　the　room；　Momma　asking　her
（carrie　shut　the　windows　it's　going　to　rain）
to　do　something　and　windows　suddenly　banging　down　all　over　the　house；　giving　Miss　Macaferty　four　flat　tyres　all　at　once　by　unscrewing　the　valves　in　the　tyres　of　her　Volkswagen；　the　stones
（！！！！！　no　no　no　no　no　！！！！！！）
…but　now　there　was　no　denying　the　memory；　no　more　than　there　could　be　a　denying　of　the　monthly　flow；　and　that　memory　was　not　cloudy；　no；　not　that　one；　it　was　harsh　and　brilliant；　like　jagged　strokes　of　lightning：　the　little　girl
（momma　stop　momma　can't　i　can't　breathe　o　my　throat　o　momma　i'm　sorry　i　looked　momma　o　my　tongue　blood　in　my　mouth）
the　poor　little　girl
（screaming：　little　slut　o　i　know　how　it　is　with　you　i　se