sk.thetalisman-第60部分
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kindly Buddy Parkins； eaten dinner around the table in the kitchen with the Parkins family…boiled beef and deep…dish apple pie…and then snuggled into the Parkinses' guest bed and pulled the homemade quilt up over his head。 And not moved； except toward the table； for four or five days。 But part of the trouble was that he saw that knotty…pine kitchen table heaped with crumbly cheese； and on the other side of the table a mouse…hole was cut into a giant baseboard； and from holes in the jeans of the three Parkins boys protruded thin long tails。 Who plays these Jerry Bledsoe changes； Daddy？ Heidel； Thielke； Wild； Hagen； Davey； Schulkamp and Rasmussen。 Those Jerry changes？ He knew who played them。
4
The huge yellow…and…purple sign reading BUCKEYE MALL floated ahead of Jack as he came around the final curve of the off…ramp； drifted past his shoulder and reappeared on his other side； at which point he could finally see that it was erected on a tripod of tall yellow poles in the shopping…center parking lot。 The mall itself was a futuristic assemblage of ochre…colored buildings that seemed to be windowless…a second later； Jack realized that the mall was covered； and what he was seeing was only the illusion of separate buildings。 He put his hand in his pocket and fingered the tight roll of twenty…three single dollar bills which was his earthly fortune。
In the cool sunlight of an early autumn afternoon； Jack sprinted across the street toward the mall's parking lot。
If it had not been for his conversation with Buddy Parkins； Jack would very likely have stayed on U。S。 40 and tried to cover another fifty miles…he wanted to get to Illinois； where Richard Sloat was； in the next two or three days。 The thought of seeing his friend Richard again had kept him going during the weary days of nonstop work on Elbert Palamountain's farm： the image of spectacled； serious…faced Richard Sloat in his room at Thayer School； in Springfield； Illinois； had fueled him as much as Mrs。 Palamountain's generous meals。 Jack still wanted to see Richard； and as soon as he could： but Buddy Parkins's inviting him home had somehow unstrung him。 He could not just climb into another car and begin all over again on the Story。 （In any case； Jack reminded himself； the Story seemed to be losing its potency。） The shopping mall gave him a perfect chance to drop out for an hour or two； especially if there was a movie theater somewhere in there…right now； Jack could have watched the dullest； soppiest Love Story of a movie。
And before the movie； were he lucky enough to find a theater； he would be able to take care of two things he had been putting off for at least a week。 Jack had seen Buddy Parkins looking at his disintegrating Nikes。 Not only were the running shoes falling apart； the soles； once spongy and elastic； had mysteriously bee hard as asphalt。 On days when he had to walk great distances…or when he had to work standing up all day…his feet stung as if they'd been burned。
The second task； calling his mother； was so loaded with guilt and other fearful emotions that Jack could not quite allow it to bee conscious。 He did not know if he could keep from weeping； once he'd heard his mother's voice。 What if she sounded weak…what if she sounded really sick？ Could he really keep going west if Lily hoarsely begged him to e back to New Hampshire？ So he could not admit to himself that he was probably going to call his mother。 His mind gave him the suddenly very clear image of a bank of pay telephones beneath their hairdryer plastic bubbles； and almost immediately bucked away from it…as if Elroy or some other Territories creature could reach right out of the receiver and clamp a hand around his throat。
Just then three girls a year or two older than Jack bounced out of the back of a Subaru Brat which had swung recklessly into a parking spot near the mall's main entrance。 For a second they had the look of models contorted into awkwardly elegant poses of delight and astonishment。 When they had adjusted into more conventional postures the girls glanced incuriously at Jack and began to flip their hair expertly back into place。 They were leggy in their tight jeans； these confident little princesses of the tenth grade； and when they laughed they put their hands over their mouths in a fashion which suggested that laughter itself was laughable。 Jack slowed his walk into a kind of sleepwalker's stroll。 One of the princesses glanced at him and muttered something to the brown…haired girl beside her。
I'm different now； Jack thought： I'm not like them any…more。 The recognition pierced him with loneliness。
A thickset blond boy in a blue sleeveless down vest climbed out of the driver's seat and gathered the girls around him by the simple expedient of pretending to ignore them。 The boy； who must have been a senior and at the very least in the varsity backfield； glanced once at Jack and then looked appraisingly at the facade of the mall。 'Timmy？' said the tall brown…haired girl。 'Yeah； yeah；' the boy said。 'I was just wondering what smells like shit out here。' He rewarded the girls with a superior little smile。 The brown…haired girl looked smirkingly toward Jack； then swung herself across the asphalt with her friends。 The three girls followed Timmy's arrogant body through the glass doors into the mall。
Jack waited until the figures of Timmy and his court； visible through the glass； had shrunk to the size of puppies far down the long mall before he stepped on the plate which opened the doors。
Cold predigested air embraced him。
Water trickled down over a fountain two stories high set in a wide pool surrounded by benches。 Open…fronted shops on both levels faced the fountain。 Bland Muzak drifted down from the ochre ceiling； as did the peculiar bronzy light； the smell of popcorn； which had struck Jack the moment the glass doors had whooshed shut behind him； emanated from an antique popcorn wagon； painted fire…engine red and stationed outside a Waldenbooks to the left of the fountain on the ground level。 Jack had seen immediately that there was no movie theater in the Buckeye Mall。 Timmy and his leggy princesses were floating up the escalator at the mall's other end； making； Jack thought； for a fast…food restaurant called The Captain's Table right at the top of the escalator。 Jack put his hand in his pants pocket again and touched his roll of bills。 Speedy's guitar…pick and Captain Farren's coin nested at the bottom of the pocket； along with a handful of dimes and quarters。
On Jack's level； sandwiched between a Mr。 Chips cookie shop and a liquor store advertising NEW LOW PRICES for Hiram Walker bourbon and Inglenook Chablis； a Fayva shoe store drew him toward its long table of running shoes。 The clerk at the cash register leaned forward and watched Jack pick over the shoes； clearly suspicious that he might try to steal something。 Jack recognized none of the brands on the table。 There were no Nikes or Pumas here…they were called Speedster or Bullseye or Zooms； and the laces of each pair were tied together。 These were sneakers； not true running shoes。 They were good enough； Jack supposed。
He bought the cheapest pair the store had in his size； blue canvas with red zigzag stripes down the sides。 No brand name was visible anywhere on the shoes。 They seemed indistinguishable from most of the other shoes on the table。 At the register he counted out six limp one…dollar bills and told the clerk that he did not need a bag。
Jack sat on one of the benches before the tall fountain and toed off the battered Nikes without bothering to unlace them。 When he slipped on the new sneakers； his feet fairly sighed with gratitude。 Jack left the bench and dropped his old shoes in a tall black wastebasket with DON'T BE A LITTERBUG stencilled on it in white。 Beneath that； in smaller letters； the wastebasket read The earth is our only home。
Jack began to move aimlessly through the long lower arcade of the mall； searching for the telephones。 At the popcorn wagon he parted with fifty cents and was handed a quart…size tub of fresh popcorn glistening with grease。 The middle…aged man in a bowler hat； a walrus moustache； and sleeve garters who sold him the
