sk.thetalisman-第73部分

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re　so　long　they　dwindled　to　a　point　on　the　horizon。　Wolf　would　do　more　than　slow　him　down；　Wolf　would　sooner　or　later　get　both　of　them　thrown　in　jail。　Probably　sooner。　And　how　could　he　ever　explain　Wolf　to　Rational　Richard　Sloat？
　　What　Wolf　saw　on　Jack's　face　in　that　moment　was　a　look　of　cold　speculation　that　unhinged　his　knees。　He　fell　on　them　and　held　his　clasped　hands　up　to　Jack　like　a　suitor　in　a　bad　Victorian　melodrama。
　　'Don't　go　away　an'　leave　me；　Jack；'　he　wept。　'Don't　leave　old　Wolf；　don't　leave　me　here；　you　brought　me　here；　please；　please　don't　leave　me　alone　。　。　。　'
　　Beyond　this；　conscious　words　were　lost；　Wolf　was　perhaps　trying　to　talk　but　all　he　really　seemed　able　to　do　was　sob。　Jack　felt　a　great　weariness　fall　over　him。　It　fit　well；　like　a　jacket　that　one　has　worn　often。　Don't　leave　me　here；　you　brought　me　here　。　。　。
　　There　it　was。　Wolf　was　his　responsibility；　wasn't　he？　Yes。　Oh　yes　indeed。　He　had　taken　Wolf　by　the　hand　and　dragged　him　out　of　the　Territories　and　into　Ohio　and　he　had　the　throbbing　shoulder　to　prove　it。　He　had　had　no　choice；　of　course；　Wolf　had　been　drowning；　and　even　if　he　hadn't　drowned；　Morgan　would　have　crisped　him　with　whatever　that　lightning…rod　thing　had　been。　So　he　could　have　turned　on　Wolf　again；　could　have　said：　Which　would　you　prefer；　Wolf　old　buddy？　To　be　here　and　scared；　or　there　and　dead？
　　He　could；　yes；　and　Wolf　would　have　no　answer　because　Wolf　wasn't　too　swift　in　the　brains　department。　But　Uncle　Tommy　had　been　fond　of　quoting　a　Chinese　proverb　that　went：　The　man　whose　life　you　save　is　your　responsibility　for　the　rest　of　your　life。
　　Never　mind　the　ducking；　never　mind　the　fancy　footwork；　Wolf　was　his　responsibility。
　　'Don't　leave　me；　Jack；'　Wolf　wept。　'Wolf…Wolf！　Please　don't　leave　good　old　Wolf；　I'll　help　you；　I'll　stand　guard　at　night；　I　can　do　lots；　only　don't　don't…'
　　'Quit　bawling　and　get　up；'　Jack　said　quietly。　'I　won't　leave　you。　But　we've　got　to　get　out　of　here　in　case　that　guy　does　send　a　cop　back　to　check　on　us。　Let's　move　it。'
　　　
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　　'Did　you　figure　out　what　to　do　next；　Jack？'　Wolf　asked　timidly。　They　had　been　sitting　in　the　brushy　ditch　just　over　the　Muncie　town　line　for　more　than　half　an　hour；　and　when　Jack　turned　toward　Wolf；　Wolf　was　relieved　to　see　he　was　smiling。　It　was　a　weary　smile；　and　Wolf　didn't　like　the　dark；　tired　circles　under　Jack's　eyes　（he　liked　Jack's　smell　even　less…it　was　a　sick　smell）；　but　it　was　a　smile。
　　'I　think　I　see　what　we　should　do　next　right　over　there；'　Jack　said。　'I　was　thinking　about　it　just　a　few　days　ago；　when　I　got　my　new　sneakers。'　
　　He　bowed　his　feet。　He　and　Wolf　regarded　the　sneakers　in　depressed　silence。　They　were　scuffed；　battered；　and　dirty。　The　left　sole　was　bidding　a　fond　adieu　to　the　left　upper。　Jack　had　owned　them　for　。　。　。　he　wrinkled　his　forehead　and　thought。　The　fever　made　it　hard　to　think。　Three　days。　Only　three　days　since　he　had　picked　them　out　of　the　bargain　bin　of　the　Fayva　store。　Now　they　looked　old。　Old。
　　'Anyway　。　。　。　'　Jack　sighed。　Then　he　brightened。　'See　that　building　over　there；　Wolf？'　
　　The　building；　an　explosion　of　uninteresting　angles　in　gray　brick；　stood　like　an　island　in　the　middle　of　a　giant　parking　lot。　Wolf　knew　what　the　asphalt　in　that　parking　lot　would　smell　like：　dead；　deposing　animals。　That　smell　would　almost　suffocate　him；　and　Jack　would　barely　notice　it。
　　'For　your　information；　the　sign　there　said　Town　Line　Sixplex；'　Jack　said。　'It　sounds　like　a　coffee　pot；　but　actually　it's　a　movie　with　six　shows。　There　ought　to　be　one　we　like。'　And　in　the　afternoon；　there　won't　be　many　people　there　and　that's　good　because　you　have　this　distressing　habit　of　going　Section　Eight；　Wolf。　'e　on。'　He　got　unsteadily　to　his　feet。
　　'What's　a　movie；　Jack？'　Wolf　asked。　He　had　been　a　dreadful　problem　to　Jack；　he　knew…such　a　dreadful　problem　that　he　now　hesitated　to　protest　about　anything；　or　even　express　unease。　But　a　frightening　intuition　had　e　to　him：　that　going　to　a　movie　and　hitching　a　ride　might　be　the　same　thing。　Jack　called　the　roaring　carts　and　carriages　'cars；'　and　'Chevys；'　and　'Jartrans；'　and　'station…wagons'　（these　latter；　Wolf　thought；　must　be　like　the　coaches　in　the　Territories　which　carried　passengers　from　one　coach…station　to　the　next）。　Might　the　bellowing；　stinking　carriages　also　be　called　'movies'？　It　sounded　very　possible。
　　'Well；'　Jack　said；　'it's　easier　to　show　you　than　to　tell　you。　I　think　you'll　like　it。　e　on。'
　　Jack　stumbled　ing　out　of　the　ditch　and　went　briefly　to　his　knees。　'Jack；　are　you　okay？'　Wolf　asked　anxiously。
　　Jack　nodded。　They　started　across　the　parking　lot；　which　smelled　just　as　bad　as　Wolf　had　known　it　would。
　　　
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　　Jack　had　e　a　good　part　of　the　thirty…five　miles　between　Arcanum；　Ohio；　and　Muncie；　Indiana；　on　Wolf's　broad　back。　Wolf　was　frightened　of　cars；　terrified　of　trucks；　nauseated　by　the　smells　of　almost　everything；　apt　to　howl　and　run　at　sudden　loud　noises。　But　he　was　also　almost　tireless。　As　far　as　that　goes；　you　can　strike　the　'almost；'　Jack　thought　now。　So　far　as　I　know；　he　is　tireless。
　　Jack　had　moved　them　away　from　the　Arcanum　ramp　as　fast　as　he　could；　forcing　his　wet；　aching　legs　into　a　rusty　trot。　His　head　had　been　throbbing　like　a　slick；　flexing　fist　inside　his　skull；　waves　of　heat　and　cold　rushing　through　him。　Wolf　moved　easily　to　his　left；　his　stride　so　long　that　he　was　keeping　up　with　Jack　easily　by　doing　no　more　than　a　moderately　fast　walk。　Jack　knew　that　he　had　maybe　gotten　paranoid　about　the　cops；　but　the　man　in　the　CASE　FARM　EQUIPMENT　hat　had　looked　really　scared。　And　pissed。
　　They　hadn't　gone　even　a　quarter　of　a　mile　when　a　deep；　burning　stitch　settled　into　his　side　and　he　asked　Wolf　if　he　could　give　him　a　piggyback　for　a　while。
　　'Huh？'　Wolf　asked。
　　'You　know；'　Jack　said；　and　pantomimed。
　　A　big　grin　had　overspread　Wolf's　face。　Here　at　last　was　something　he　understood；　here　was　something　he　could　do。
　　'You　want　a　horseyback！'　he　cried；　delighted。　'Yeah；　I　guess　。　。　。　'
　　'Oh；　yeah！　Wolf！　Here　and　now！　Used　to　give　em　to　my　litter…brothers！　Jump　up；　Jack！'　Wolf　bent　down；　holding　his　curved　hands　ready；　stirrups　for　Jack's　thighs。
　　'Now　when　I　get　too　heavy；　just　put　me　d…'
　　Before　he　could　finish；　Wolf　had　swept　him　up　and　was　running　lightly　down　the　road　with　him　into　the　dark…really　running。　The　cold；　rainy　air　flipped　Jack's　hair　back　from　his　hot　brow。
　　'Wolf；　you'll　wear　yourself　out！'　Jack　shouted。
　　'Not　me！　Wolf！　Wolf！　Runnin　here　and　now！'　For　the　first　time　since　they　had　e　over；　Wolf　sounded　actually　happy。　He　ran　for　the　next　two　hours；　until　they　were　west　of　Arcanum　and　travelling　along　a　dark；　unmarked　stretch　of　two…lane　black…top。　Jack　saw　a　deserted　barn　standing　slumped　in　a　shaggy；　untended　field；　and　they　slept　there　that　night。
　　Wolf　wanted　nothing　to　do　with　downtown　areas　where　the　traffic　was　a　roaring　flood　and　the　stinks　rose　up　to　heaven　in　a　noxious　cloud；　and　Jack　didn't　want　anything　to　do　with　them；　either。　Wolf　stuck　out　too　much。　But　he　had　forced　one　stop；　at　a　roadside　store　just　across　the　Indiana　line；　near　Harrisville。　While　Wolf　waited　nervously　out　by　the　road；　hunkering　down；　digging　at　the　dirt；　getting　up；　walking　around　in　a　stiff　little　circle；　then　hunkering　again；　Jack　bought　a　newspaper　and　checked　the　weather　page　carefully。　The　next　full　moon　was　on　October　31st…Halloween；　that　was　fitting　enough。　Jack　turned　back　to　the　front　page　so　he　could　see　what　day　it　was　today　。　。　。　yesterday；　that　had　been　now。　It　had　been　October　26th。
　　　
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　　Jack　pulled　open　one　of　the　glass　doors　and　stepped　inside　the　lobby　of　the　Town　Line　Sixplex。　He　looked　around　sharply　at　Wolf；　but　Wolf　looked…for　the　moment；　at　least…pretty　much　okay。　Wolf　was；　in　fact；　cautiously　optimistic　。　。　。　at　least　for　the　moment。　He　didn't　like　being　inside　a　building；　but　at　least　it　wasn't　a　car。　There　was　a　good　smell　in　here…light　and　sort　of　tasty。　Or　would　have　been；　except　for　a　bitter；　almost　rancid　undersmell。　Wolf　looked　left　and　saw　a　glass　box　full　of　white　stuff。　That　was　the　source　of　the　good　light　smell。
　　'Jack；'　he　whispered。
　　'Huh？'
　　'I　want　some　of　that　white　stuff；　please。　But