sk.carrie-第6部分

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le　scrap　of　a　girl　and　run　away　with　her。
'And　that　was　when　Margaret　White　came　out　of　her　back　door　and　saw　us。'　
'For　a　minute　she　just　goggled　as　if　she　couldn't　believe　it。　Then　she　opened　her　mouth　and　whooped。　That's　the　ugliest　sound　I've　ever　beard　in　my　life。　It　was　like　the　noise　of　a　bull　alligator　would　make　in　a　swamp。　She　just　whooped。　Rage。　plete；　insane　rage。　Her　face　went　just　as　red　as　the　side　of　a　fire　truck　and　she　curled　her　hands　into　fists　and　whooped　at　the　sky。　She　was　shaking　all　over。　I　thought　she　was　having　a　stroke。　Her　face　was　all　scrunched　up；　and　it　was　a　gargoyle's　face。
'I　thought　Carrie　was　going　to　faint　…　or　die　on　the　spot。　She　sucked　in　all　her　breath　and　that　little　face　went　a　cottage…cheesy　colour。
'Her　mother　yelled：　〃CAAAARRIEEEEEE！〃
'I　jumped　up　and　yelled　back：　〃Don't　you　yell　at　her　that　way！　You　ought　to　be　ashamed！〃　Something　stupid　like　that。　I　don't　remember。　Carrie　started　to　go　back　and　then　she　stopped　and　then　she　started　again；　and　just　before　she　crossed　over　from　our　lawn　to　theirs　she　looked　back　at　me　and　there　was　a　look　。。。　oh；　dreadful。　I　can't　say　it。　Wanting　and　hating　and　fearing　。。。　and　misery。　As　if　life　itself　had　fallen　on　her　like　stones；　all　at　the　age　of　three。
'My　mother　came　out　on　the　back　stoop　and　her　face　just　crumpled　when　she　saw　the　child。　And　Margaret　。。。　oh；　she　was　screaming　things　about　sluts　and　strumpets　and　the　sins　of　the　fathers　being　visited　even　into　the　seventh　generation。　My　tongue　felt　like　a　little　dried…up　plant。　
'For　just　a　second　Carrie　stood　swaying　back　and　forth　between　the　two　yards；　and　then　Margaret　White　looked　upward　and　I　swear　sweet　Jesus　that　woman　bayed　at　the　sky。　And　then　she　started　to　。。。　to　hurt　herself；　scourge　herself。　She　was　clawing　at　her　neck　and　cheeks；　making　red　marks　and　scratches。　She　tore　her　dress。
'Carrie　screamed　out　〃Momma！〃　and　ran　to　her。
'Mrs　White　kind　of　。。。　squatted；　like　a　frog；　and　her　arms　swooped　wide　open。　I　thought　she　was　going　to　crush　her　and　I　screamed。　The　woman　was　grinning。　Grinning　and　drooling　right　down　her　chin。　Oh；　I　was　sick。　Jesus；　I　was　so　sick。
'She　gathered　her　up　and　they　went　in。　I　turned　off　my　radio　and　I　could　hear　her。　Some　of　the　words；　but　not　all。　You　didn't　have　to　hear　all　the　words　to　know　what　was　going　on。　Praying　and　sobbing　and　screeching。　Crazy　sounds。　And　Margaret　telling　the　little　girl　to　get　herself　into　her　closet　and　pray。　The　little　girl　crying　and　screaming　that　she　was　sorry；　she　forgot。　Then　nothing。　And　my　mother　and　I　just　looked　at　each　other。　I　never　saw　Mom　look　so　bad；　not　even　when　Dad　died。　She　said：　〃The　child…！'　and　that　was　all。　We　went　inside。'
She　gets　up　and　goes　to　the　window；　a　pretty　woman　in　a　yellow　no…back　sundress。　'It's　almost　like　living　it　all　over　again；　you　know；'　she　says；　not　turning　around　'I'm　all　riled　up　inside　again。'　She　laughs　a　little　and　cradles　her　elbows　in　her　palms。
'Oh；　she　was　so　pretty。　You'd　never　know　from　those　pictures。'
Cars　go　by　outside；　back　and　forth；　and　I　sit　and　wait　for　her　to　go　on。　She　reminds　me　of　a　pole…vaulter　eyeing　the　bar　and　wondering　if　it's　set　too　high。
'My　mother　brewed　us　scotch　tea。　strong；　with　milk；　the　way　she　used　to　when　I　was　tomboying　around　and　someone　would　push　me　in　the　nettle　patch　or　I'd　fall　off　my　bicycle。　It　was　awful　but　we　drank　it　anyway；　sitting　across　from　each　other　in　the　kitchen　nook。　She　was　in　some　old　housedress　with　the　hem　falling　down　in　back；　and　I　was　in　my　Whore　of　Babylon；　two…piece　swimsuit。　I　wanted　to　cry　but　it　was　too　real　to　cry　about；　not　like　the　movies。　Once　when　I　was　in　New　York　I　saw　an　old　drunk　leading　a　little　girl　in　a　blue　dress　by　the　hand。　The　girl　had　cried　herself　into　a　bloody　nose。　The　drunk　had　goitre　and　his　neck　looked　like　an　inner　tube。　There　was　a　red　bump　in　the　middle　of　his　forehead　and　a　long　white　string　on　the　blue　serge　jacket　he　was　wearing。　Everyone　kept　going　and　ing　because；　if　you　did；　then　pretty　soon　you　wouldn't　see　them　any　more。　That　was　real；　too。
'I　wanted　to　tell　my　mother　that；　and　I　was　just　opening　my　mouth　to　say　it　when　the　other　thing　happened　。。。　the　thing　you　want　to　hear　about；　I　guess。　There　was　a　big　thump　outside　that　made　the　glasses　rattle　in　the　china　cabinet。　It　was　a　feeling　as　well　as　a　sound；　thick　and　solid；　as　if　someone　had　just　pushed　an　iron　safe　off　the　roof。'
She　lights　a　new　cigarette　and　begins　to　puff　rapidly。
'I　went　to　the　window　and　looked　out；　but　I　couldn't　see　anything。　Then；　when　I　was　getting　ready　to　turn　around；　something　else　fell。　The　sun　glittered　on　it。　I　thought　it　was　a　big　glass　globe　for　a　second。　Then　it　hit　the　edge　of　the
Whites'　roof　and　shattered；　and　it　wasn't　glass　at　all。　It　was　a　big　chunk　of　ice。　I　was　going　to　turn　around　and　tell　Mom；　and　that's　when　they　started　to　fall　all　at　once；　in　a　shower。
'They　were　falling　on　the　Whites'　roof；　on　the　back　and　front　lawn；　on　the　outside　door　to　their　cellar。　That　was　a　sheet…tin　bulkhead；　and　when　the　first　one　hit　it　made　a　huge　bong　noise；　like　a　church　bell。　My　mother　and　I　both　screamed。　We　were　clutching　each　other　like　a　couple　of　girls　in　a　thunderstorm。
'Then　it　stopped。　There　was　no　sound　at　all　from　their　house。　You　could　see　the　water　from　the　melting　ice　trickling　down　their　slate　shingles　in　the　sunshine。　A　great　big　hunk　of　ice　was　stuck　in　the　angle　of　the　roof　and　their　little　chimney。　The　light　on　it　was　so　bright　that　my　eyes　hurt　to　look　at　it。
'My　mother　started　to　ask　me　if　it　was　over；　and　then　Margaret　screamed。　The　sound　came　to　us　very　clearly。　In　a　way　it　was　worse　than　before；　because　there　was　terror　in　this　one。　Then　there　were　clanging；　banging　sounds；　as　if　she　were　throwing　every　pot　and　pan　in　the　house　at　the　girl。
The　back　door　slammed　open　and　slammed　closed。　No　one　came　out。　More　screams。　Mom　said　for　me　to　call　the　police　but　I　couldn't　move。　I　was　stuck　to　the　spot。　Mr　Kirk　and　his　wife　Virginia　came　out　on　their　lawn　to　look。　The　Smiths；　too。　Pretty　soon　everyone　on　the　street　that　was　home　had　e　out；　even　old　Mrs　Warwick　from　up　the　block；　and　she　was　deaf　in　one　ear。
'Things　started　to　crash　and　tinkle　and　break。　Bottles；　glasses；　I　don't　know　what　all。　And　then　the　side　window　broke　open　and　the　kitchen　table　fell　halfway　through。　With　God　as　my　witness。　It　was　a　big　mahogany　thing　and　it　took　the　screen　with　it　and　it　must　have　weighed　three　hundred　pounds。　How　could　a　woman　…　even　a　big　woman　…　throw　that？'
I　ask　her　if　she　is　implying　something。
'I'm　only　telling　you；'　she　insists；　suddenly　distraught。　'I'm　not　asking　you　to　believe…'
She　seems　to　catch　her　breath　and　then　goes　on　flatly：
'There　was　nothing　for　maybe　five　minutes。　Water　was　dripping　out　of　the　gutters　over　there。　And　there　was　ice　all　over　the　Whites'　lawn。　It　was　melting　fast。'
She　gives　a　short；　chopping　laugh　and　butts　her　cigarette。
'Why　not？　It　was　August。'
She　wanders　aimlessly　back　towards　the　sofa；　then　veers　away。　'Then　the　stones。　Right　out　of　the　blue　sky。　Whistling　and　screaming　like　bombs。　My　mother　cried　out；　'What　in　the　name　of　！'　and　put　her　hands　over　her　head。　But　I　couldn't　move。　I　watched　it　all　and　I　couldn't　move。　It　didn't　matter　anyway。　They　only　fell　on　the　Whites'　property。
'One　of　them　hit　a　downspout　and　knocked　it　on　to　the　lawn。　Others　punched　holes　right　through　the　roof　and　into　the　attic。　The　roof　made　a　big　cracking　sound　each　time　one　hit；　and　puffs　of　dust　would　squirt　up。　The　ones　that　hit　the　ground　made　everything　vibrate。　You　could　feel　them　hitting　in　your　feet。
'Our　china　was　tinkling　and　the　fancy　Welsh　dresser　was　shaking　and　Mom's　teacup　fell　on　the　floor　and　broke。
'They　made　big　pits　in　the　Whites'　back　lawn　when　they　struck。　Craters。　Mrs　White　hired　a　junkman　from　across　town　to　cart　them　away；　and　Jerry　Smith　from　up　the　street　paid　him　a　buck　to　let　him　chip　a　piece　of　one。　He　took　it　to　B。U。　and　they　looked　at　it　and　said　it　was　ordinary　granite。
'One　of　the　last　ones　hit　a　little　table　they　had　in　their　back　yard　and　smashed　it　to　pieces。'
'But　nothing；　nothing　that　wasn't　on　their　property　was　hit。'
She　stops　and　turns　from　the　window　to　look　at　me；　and　her　face　is　haggard　from　remembering　al