jg.skippingchristmas-第12部分

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s　his　junior；　but　had　no　problem　addressing　him　simply　as　Luther。　A　kid　working　a　temporary　job　for　minimum　wage；　it　never　crossed　her　mind　that　perhaps　she　should　call　him　Mr。　Krank。
　Why　not　twenty…one　minutes？　he　wanted　to　snap。　Or　twenty…three？
　He　grumbled　over　his　shoulder　and　went　to　Salon　2。
　The　FX…2000　BronzeMat　was　cool　to　the　touch；　a　very　good　sign　because　Luther　couldn't　stand　the　thought　of　crawling　into　the　thing　after　someone　else　had　just　left。　He　quickly　sprayed　it　with　Windex；　wiped　it　furiously；　then　rechecked　the　locked　door；　undressed　as　if　someone　might　see　him；　and　very　delicately　crawled　into　the　tanning　bed。
　He　stretched　and　adjusted　until　things　were　as　fortable　as　they　would　get；　then　pulled　the　top　down；　hit　the　On　switch；　and　began　to　bake。　Nora'd　been　twice　and　wasn't　sure　she'd　tan　again　because　halfway　through　her　last　session　someone　rattled　the　doorknob　and　gave　her　a　start。　She　blurted　something；　couldn't　remember　exactly　what　due　to　the　terror　of　the　moment；　and　as　she　instinctively　jerked　upward　she　cracked　her　head　on　the　top　of　the　BronzeMat。
　Luther'd　been　blamed　for　that　too。　Laughing　about　it　hadn't　helped　him。
　Before　long　he　was　drifting　away；　drifting　to　the　Island　Princess　with　its　four　pools　and　dark；　fit　bodies　lounging　around；　drifting　to　the　white　sandy　beaches　of　Jamaica　and　Grand　Cayman；　drifting　through　the　warm　still　waters　of　the　Caribbean。
　A　buzzer　startled　him。　His　twenty…two　minutes　were　up。　Three　sessions　now　and　Luther　could　finally　see　some　improvement　in　the　rickety　mirror　on　the　wall。　Just　a　matter　of　time　before　someone　around　the　office　mented　on　his　tan。　They　were　all　so　envious。
　As　he　hurried　back　to　work；　his　skin　still　warm；　his　stomach　even　flatter　after　another　skipped　meal；　it　began　to　sleet。
　
　Luther　caught　himself　dreading　the　drive　home。　Things　were　fine　until　he　turned　onto　Hemlock。　Next　door；　Becker　was　adding　more　lights　to　his　shrubs；　and；　for　spite；　he　was　emphasizing　the　end　of　his　lawn　next　to　Luther's　garage。　Trogdon　had　so　many　lights　you　couldn't　tell　if　he　was　adding　more；　but　Luther　suspected　he　was。　Across　the　street；　next　door　to　Trogdon；　Walt　Scheel　was　decorating　more　each　day。　This　from　a　guy　who'd　hardly　hung　the　first　strand　a　year　ago。
　And　now；　next　door…on　the　east　side　of　the　Kranks'…Swade　Kerr　had　suddenly　been　seized　with　the　spirit　of　Christmas　and　was　wrapping　his　scrawny　little　boxwoods　with　brand…new　red　and　green　blinking　lights。　The　Kerrs　homeschooled　their　brood　of　children　and　generally　kept　them　locked　in　the　basement。　They　refused　to　vote；　did　yoga；　ate　only　vegetables；　wore　sandals　with　thick　socks　in　the　wintertime；　avoided　employment；　and　claimed　to　be　atheists。　Very　crunchy；　but　not　bad　neighbors。　Swade's　wife；　Shirley；　with　a　hyphenated　last　name；　had　trust　funds。
　〃They've　got　me　surrounded；〃　Luther　muttered　to　himself　as　he　parked　in　his　garage；　then　sprinted　into　the　house　and　locked　the　door　behind　him。
　〃Look　at　these；〃　Nora　said　with　a　frown；　and　after　a　peck　on　the　cheek；　the　obligatory　〃How　was　your　day？〃
　Two　pastel…colored　envelopes；　the　obvious。　〃What　is　it？〃　he　snapped。　The　last　thing　Luther　wanted　to　see　was　Christmas　cards　with　their　phony　little　messages。　Luther　wanted　food；　which　tonight　would　be　baked　fish　with　steamed　veggies。
　He　pulled　out　both　cards；　each　with　a　Frosty　on　the　front。　Nothing　was　signed。　No　return　address　on　the　envelope。　
　Anonymous　Christmas　cards。　〃Very　funny；〃　he　said；　flinging　them　onto　the　table。
　〃I　thought　you'd　like　them。　They　were　postmarked　in　the　city。〃　
　〃It's　Frohmeyer；〃　Luther　said；　yanking　off　his　tie。　〃He　loves　a　practical　joke。〃
　Halfway　through　dinner；　the　doorbell　rang。　A　couple　of　large　bites　and　Luther　could've　cleaned　his　plate；　but　Nora　was　preaching　the　virtues　of　eating　slowly。　He　was　still　hungry　when　he　got　to　his　feet　and。　mumbled　something　about　who　could　it　be　now？
　The　fireman's　name　was　Kistler　and　the　medic　was　Kendall；　both　young　and　lean；　in　great　shape　from　countless　hours　pumping　iron　down　at　the　station；　no　doubt　at　taxpayer　expense；　Luther　thought　to　himself　as　he　invited　them　inside；　just　barely　through　the　front　door。　It　was　another　annual　ritual；　another　perfect　example　of　what　was　wrong　with　Christmas。
　Kistler's　uniform　was　navy　and　Kendall's　was　olive。　Neither　matched　the　red…and…white　Santa's　hats　both　were　wearing；　but　then　who　really　cared？　The　hats　were　cute　and　whimsical；　but　Luther　wasn't　smiling。　The　medic　held　the　paper　bag　down　by　his　leg。
　〃Selling　fruitcakes　again　this　year；　Mr。　Krank；　Kistler　was　saying。　〃Do　it　every　year。〃
　〃Money　goes　for　the　toy　drive；　Kendall　said　with　perfect　timing。
　〃Our　goal　is　nine　thousand　bucks。〃
　〃Last　year　we　raised　just　over　eight。〃
　〃Hitting　it　harder　this　year〃
　〃Christmas　Eve；　we'll　deliver　toys　to　six　hundred　kids。〃
　〃It's　an　awesome　project。〃
　Back　and　forth；　back　and　forth。　A　well…drilled　tag　team。　
　〃You　ought　to　see　their　faces。〃
　〃I　wouldn't　miss　it　for　the　world；　〃Anyway；　gotta　raise　the　money；　and　fast。〃
　〃Got　the　old　faithful；　Mabel's　Fruitcakes。〃　Kendall　sort　of　waved　the　bag　at　Luther　as　if　he　might　want　to　grab　it　and　take　a　peek　inside。
　〃World…famous。〃
　〃They　make　'em　in　Hermansburg；　Indiana；　home　of　Mabel's　Bakery。〃
　〃Half　the　town　works　there。　Make　nothing　but　fruitcakes。〃
　Those　poor　folks；　Luther　thought。
　〃They　have　a　secret　recipe；　use　only　the　freshest　ingredients。〃
　〃And　make　the　best　fruitcake　in　the　world。〃　
　Luther　hated　fruitcakes。　The　dates；　figs；　prunes；　nuts；　little　bits　of　dried；　colored　fruit。
　〃Been　making　'em　for　eighty　years　now。〃
　〃Best…selling　cake　in　the　country。　Six　tons　last　year。〃
　Luther　was　standing　perfectly　still；　holding　his　ground；　his　eyes　darting　back　and　forth；　back　and　forth。　
　〃No　chemicals；　no　additives。〃　
　〃I　don't　know　how　they　keep　them　so　fresh。〃
　With　chemicals　and　additives；　Luther　wanted　to　say。　
　A　sharp　bolt　of　hunger　hit　Luther　hard。　His　knees　almost　buckled；　his　poker　face　almost　grimaced。　For　two　weeks　now　his　sense　of　smell　had　been　much　keener；　no　doubt　a　side　effect　of　a　strict　diet。　Maybe　he　got　a　whiff　of　Mabel's　finest；　he　wasn't　sure；　but　a　craving　came　over　him。　Suddenly；　he　had　to　have　something　to　eat。　Suddenly；　he　wanted　to　snatch　the　bag　from　Kendall；　rip　open　a　package；　and　start　gnawing　on　a　fruitcake。
　And　then　it　passed。　With　his　jaws　clenched；　Luther　hung　on　until　it　was　gone；　then　he　relaxed。　Kistler　and　Kendall　were　so　busy　with　their　routine　that　they　hadn't　noticed。
　〃We　get　only　so　many。〃
　〃They're　so　popular　they　have　to　be　rationed。〃
　〃We're　lucky　to　get　nine　hundred。〃
　〃Ten　bucks　a　pop；　and　we're　at　nine　thousand　for　the　toys。〃
　〃You　bought　five　last　year；　Mr。　Krank。〃
　〃Can　you　do　it　again？〃
　Yes；　I　bought　five　last　year；　Luther　was　now　remembering。　Took　three　to　the　office　and　secretly　placed　them　on　the　desks　of　three　colleagues。　By　the　end　of　the　week；　they'd　been　passed　around　so　much　the　packages　were　worn。　Dox　tossed　them　in　the　wastebasket　when　they　shut　down　for　Christmas。
　Nora　gave　the　other　two　to　her　hairdresser；　a　three…hundred…pound　lady　who　collected　them　by　the　dozen　and　had　fruitcake　until　July。
　〃No；〃　Luther　finally　said。　〃I'll　pass　this　year。〃
　The　tag　team　went　silent。　Kistler　looked　at　Kendall　and　Kendall　looked　at　Kistler。
　〃Say　what？〃
　〃I　don't　want　any　fruitcakes　this　year。〃
　〃Is　five　too　many？〃　Kistler　asked。　
　〃One　is　too　many；〃　Luther　replied；　then　slowly　folded　his　arms　across　his　chest。
　〃None？〃　Kendall　asked；　in　disbelief。　
　〃Zero；〃　Luther　said。
　They　looked　as　pitiful　as　possible。　
　〃You　guys　still　put　on　that　Fourth　of　July　fishing　rodeo　for　handicapped　kids？〃　Luther　asked。　
　〃Every　year；　〃　said　Kistler。　
　〃Great。　e　back　in　the　summer　and　I'll　donate　a　hundred　bucks　for　the　fishing　rodeo。〃
　Kistler　managed　to　mumble　a　very　weak　〃Thanks。〃
　It　took　a　few　awkward　movements　to　get　them　out　the　door。　Luther　returned　to　the　kitchen　table；　where　everything　was　gone…Nora；　his　plate　with　the　last　two　bites　of　steamed　fish；　his　glass　of　water；　his　napkin。　Everything。　Furious；　he　stormed　the　pantry；　where　he　found　a　jar　of　peanut　butter　and　some　s