jg.skippingchristmas-第9部分

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　Nora　sat　down　and　tore　it　open。　It　was　two　pages　of　Blair's　lovely　handwriting；　and　the　words　were　precious。
　She　was　having　a　great　time　in　the　wilds　of　Peru。　Couldn't　be　better；　living　with　an　Indian　tribe　that　had　been　around　for　several　thousand　years。　They　were　very　poor；　according　to　our　standards；　but　healthy　and　happy。　The　children　were　at　first　very　distant；　but　they　had　e　around；　wanting　to　learn。　Blair　rambled　on　a　bit　about　the　children。
　She　was　living　in　a　grass　hut　with　Stacy；　her　new　friend　from　Utah。　Two　other　Peace　Corps　volunteers　lived　nearby。　The　corps　had　started　the　small　school　four　years　earlier。　Anyway；　she　was　healthy　and　well　fed；　no　dreaded　diseases　or　deadly　animals　had　been　spotted；　and　the　work　was　challenging。
　The　last　paragraph　was　the　jolt　of　fortitude　that　Nora　so　desperately　needed。　It　read：
　
　I　know　it　will　be　difficult　not　having　me　there　for　Christmas；　but　please　don't　be　sad。　My　children　know　nothing　of　Christmas。　They　have　so　little；　and　want　so　little；　it　makes　me　feel　guilty　for　the　mindless　materialism　of　our　culture；　There　are　no　calendars　here；　and　no　clocks；　so　I　doubt　if　I'll　even　know　when　it　es　and　goes。
　（Besides；　we　can　catch　up　next　year；　can't　we？）
　
　Such　a　smart　girl。　Nora　read　it　again　and　was　suddenly　filled　with　pride；　not　only　for　raising　such　a　wise　and　mature　daughter　but　also　for　her　own　decision　to　forgo；　at　least　for　a　year；　the　mindless　materialism　of　our　culture。　
　She　called　Luther　again　and　read　him　the　letter。
　
　Monday　night　at　the　mall！　Not　Luther's　favorite　place；　but　he　sensed　Nora　needed　a　night　out。　They　had　dinner　in　a　fake　pub　on　one　end；　then　fought　through　the　masses　to　get　to　the　other；　where　a　star…filled　romantic　edy　was　opening　at　the　multiplex。　Eight　bucks　a　ticket；　for　what　Luther　knew　would　be　another　dull　two　hours　of　overpaid　clowns　giggling　their　way　through　a　subliterate　plot。　But　anyway；　Nora　loved　the　movies　and　he　tagged　along　to　keep　peace。　Despite　the　crowds；　the　cinema　was　deserted；　and　this　thrilled　Luther　when　he　realized　that　everybody　else　was　out　there　shopping。　He　settled　low　in　his　seat　with　his　popcorn；　and　went　to　sleep。
　He　awoke　with　an　elbow　in　his　ribs。　
　〃You're　snoring；〃　Nora　hissed　at　him。
　〃Who　cares？　The　place　is　empty。〃
　〃Hush　up；　Luther。〃
　He　watched　the　movie；　but　after　five　minutes　had　had　enough；　〃I'll　be　back；〃　he　whispered；　and　left。　He'd　rather　fight　through　the　mob　and　get　stepped　on　than　watch　such　foolishness。　He　rode　the　escalator　to　the　upper　level；　where　he　leaned　on　the　rail　and　watched　the　chaos　below。　A　Santa　was　holding　court　on　his　throne　and　the　line　was　moving　very　slowly。　Over　at　the　ice　rink　the　music　blared　from　scratchy　speakers　while　kids　in　elf　costumes　skated　around　some　stuffed　creature　that　appeared　to　be　a　reindeer。　Every　parent　watched　through　the　lens　of　a　videocamera。　Weary　shoppers　trudged　along；　lugging　shopping　bags；　bumping　into　others；　fighting　with　their　children。
　Luther　had　never　felt　prouder。
　Across　the　way；　he　saw　a　new　sporting　goods　store。　He　strolled　over；　noticing　through　the　window　that　there　was　a　crowd　inside　and　certainly　not　enough　cashiers。　He　was　just　browsing；　though。　He　found　the　snorkel　gear　in　the　back；　a　rather　slim　selection；　but　it　was　December。　The　swimsuits　were　of　the　Speedo　variety；　breathtakingly　narrow　all　the　way　around　and　designed　solely　for　Olympic　swimmers　under　the　age　of　twenty。　More　of　a　pouch　than　a　garment。　He　was　afraid　to　touch　them。　He'd　get　himself　a　catalog　and　shop　from　the　safety　of　his　home。
　As　he　left　the　store　an　argument　was　raging　at　a　checkout；　something　about　a　layaway　that　got　lost。　What　fools。
　He　bought　himself　a　fat…free　yogurt　and　killed　time　strolling　along　the　upper　concourse；　smiling　smugly　at　the　harried　souls　burning　their　way　through　their　paychecks。　He　stopped　and　gawked　at　a　life…sized　poster　of　a　gorgeous　young　thing　in　a　string　bikini；　her　skin　perfectly　tanned。　She　was　inviting　him　to　step　inside　a　small　salon　called　Tans　Forever。　Luther　glanced　around　as　if　it　were　an　adult　bookstore；　then　ducked　inside　where　Daisy　was　waiting　behind　a　magazine。　Her　brown　face　forced　a　smile　and　seemed　to　crack　along　the　forehead　and　around　the　eyes。　Her　teeth　had　been　whitened；　her　hair　lightened；　her　skin　darkened；　and　for　a　second　Luther　wondered　what　she　looked　like　before　the　project。
　Not　surprisingly；　Daisy　said　it　was　the　best　time　of　the　year　to　purchase　a　package。　Their　Christmas　special　was　twelve　sessions　for　60。　Only　one　session　every　other　day；　fifteen　minutes　at　first；　but　working　up　to　a　max　of　twenty…five。　When　the　package　was　over；　Luther　would　be　superbly　tanned　and　certainly　prepared　for　anything　the　Caribbean　sun　could　throw　at　him。
　He　followed　her　a　few　steps　to　a　row　of　booths…flimsy　little　rooms　with　a　tanning　bed　each　and　not　much　else。　They　were　now　featuring　state…of…the…art　FX…2000　BronzeMats；　straight　from　Sweden；　as　if　the　Swedes　knew　everything　about　sunbathing。　At　first　glance；　the　BronzeMat　horrified　Luther。　Daisy　explained　that　you　simply　undressed；　yes；　everything；　she　purred；　slid　into　the　unit；　and　pulled　the　top　down　in　a　manner　that　reminded　Luther　of　a　waffle　iron。　Cook　for　fifteen　or　twenty　minutes；　a　timer　goes　off；　get　up；　get　dressed。　Nothing　to　it。
　〃How　much　do　you　sweat？〃　Luther　asked；　struggling　with　the　image　of　himself　lying　pletely　exposed　while　eighty　lamps　baked　all　parts　of　his　body。
　She　explained　that　things　got　warm。　Once　done；　you　simply　wiped　off　your　BronzeMat　with　a　spray　and　paper　towels；　and　things　were　suitable　for　the　next　guy。
　Skin　cancer？　he　inquired。　She　offered　a　phony　laugh。　No　way。　Perhaps　with　the　older　units　before　they　perfected　the　technology　to　virtually　eliminate　ultraviolet　rays　and　such。　The　new　BronzeMats　were　actually　safer　than　the　sun　itself。　She'd　been　tanning　for　eleven　years。
　And　your　skin　looks　like　burnt　cowhide；　Luther　mused　to　himself。
　He　signed　up　for　two　packages　for　120。　He　left　the　salon　with　the　determination　to　get　himself　tanned；　however　unfortable　it　would　be。　And　he　chuckled　at　the　thought　of　Nora　stripping　down　behind　paper…thin　walls　and　inserting　herself　into　the　BronzeMat。
　
　
　Seven
　
　The　officer's　name　was　Salino；　and　he　came　around　every　year。　He　was　portly；　wore　no　gun　or　vest；　no　Mace　or　nightstick；　no　flashlight　or　silver　bullets；　no　handcuffs　or　radio；　none　of　the　mandatory　gadgetry　that　his　brethren　loved　to　affix　to　their　belts　and　bodies。　Salino　looked　bad　in　his　uniform；　but　he'd　been　looking　bad　for　so　long　that　no　one　cared。　He　patrolled　the　southeast；　the　neighborhoods　around　Hemlock；　the　affluent　suburbs　where　the　only　crime　was　an　occasional　stolen　bike　or　a　speeding　car。　
　Salino's　partner　for　the　evening　was　a　beefy；　lockjawed　young　lad　with　a　roll　of　muscle　bulging　from　the　collar　of　his　navy　shirt。　Treen　was　his　name；　and　Treen　wore　every　device　and　doohickey　that　Salino　did　not。
　When　Luther　saw　them　through　the　blinds　on　his　front　door；　standing　there　pressing　his　doorbell；　he　instantly　thought　of　Frohmeyer。　Frohmeyer　could　summon　the　police　to　Hemlock　faster　than　the　Chief　himself。
　He　opened　the　door；　made　the　obligatory　hellos　and　good　evenings；　then　asked　them　to　step　inside。　He　didn't　want　them　inside；　but　he　knew　they　would　not　leave　until　they　pleted　the　ritual。　Treen　was　grasping　a　plain　white　tube　that　held　the　calendar。
　Nora；　who　just　seconds　ago　had　been　watching　television　with　her　husband；　had　suddenly　vanished；　though　Luther　knew　she　was　just　beyond　the　French　doors；　hiding　in　the　kitchen；　missing　not　a　word。
　Salino　did　all　the　talking。　Luther　figured　this　was　because　his　hulking　partner　probably　possessed　a　limited　vocabulary。　The　Police　Benevolent　Association　was　once　again　working　at　full　throttle　to　do　all　sorts　of　wonderful　things　for　the　munity。　Toys　for　tots。　Christmas　baskets　for　the　less　Fortunate。　Visits　by　Santa。　Ice　skating　adventures。　Trips　to　the　zoo。　And　they　were　delivering　gifts　to　the　old　folks　in　the　nursing　homes　and　to　the　veterans　tucked　away　in　wards。　Salino　had　perfected　his　presentation。　Luther　had　heard　it　before。
　To　help　defray　the　costs　of　their　worthy　projects　this　year；　the