sk.thetalisman-第86部分
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Jack looked uneasily at Wolf。 His head was bowed； and he was breathing heavily。 A glistening line of slobber went from the corner of his mouth to his chin。 A black smudge； half…dirt； half…grease； covered the front of the stolen Athletic Department sweatshirt。 Wolf shook his head； but the gesture seemed to have no content…he might have been shaking away a fly。
'Name； son？ Name？ Name？ Are you called Bill？ Paul？ Art？ Sammy？ No…something exceedingly foursquare； I'm sure。 George； perhaps？'
'Wolf；' said Wolf。
'Ah； that is nice。' Gardener beamed at both of them。 'Mr。 Parker and Mr。 Wolf。 Perhaps you'll escort them inside； Officer Williams？ And aren't we happy that Mr。 Bast is in residence already？ For the presence of Mr。 Hector Bast…one of our stewards； by the way…means that we shall probably be able to outfit Mr。 Wolf。' He peered at the two boys over the frames of his sunglasses。 'One of our beliefs here at the Scripture Home is that the soldiers of the Lord march best when they march in uniform。 And Heck Bast is nearly as large as your friend Wolf； young Jack Parker。 So from the points of view of both clothing and discipline you shall be very well served indeed。 A fort； yes？'
'Jack；' Wolf said in a low voice。
'Yes。'
'My head hurts； Jack。 Hurts bad。'
'Your little head pains you； Mr。 Wolf？' Reverend Sunlight Gardener half…danced toward Wolf and gently patted his arm。 Wolf snatched his arm away； his face working into an exaggerated reflex of disgust。 The cologne； Jack knew…that heavy cloying odor would have been like ammonia in Wolf's sensitive nostrils。
'Never mind； son；' said Gardener； seemingly unaffected by Wolf's withdrawal from him。 'Mr。 Bast or Mr。 Singer； our other steward； will see to that inside。 Frank； I thought I told you to get them into the Home。'
Officer Williams reacted as if he had been jabbed in the back with a pin。 His face grew more feverish； and he jerked his peculiar body across the porch to the front door。
Sunlight Gardener twinkled at Jack again； and the boy saw that all his dandified animation was only a kind of sterile self…amusement： the man in white was cold and crazy within。 A heavy gold chain rattled out of Gardener's sleeve and came to rest against the base of his thumb。 Jack heard the whistle of a whip cutting through the air； and this time he recognized Gardener's dark gray eyes。
Gardener was Osmond's Twinner。
'Inside； young fellows；' Gardener said； half…bowing and indicating the open door。
2
'By the way； Mr。 Parker；' Gardener said； once they had gone in； 'is it possible that we've met before？ There must be some reason you look so familiar to me； mustn't there？'
'I don't know；' Jack said； looking carefully around the odd interior of the Scripture Home。
Long couches covered with a dark blue fabric sat against the wall on the forest…green carpet； two massive leather…topped desks had been placed against the opposite wall。 At one of the desks a pimply teenager glanced at them dully； then returned to the video screen before him； where a TV preacher was inveighing against rock and roll。 The teenage boy seated at the adjoining desk straightened up and fixed Jack with an aggressive stare。 He was slim and black…haired and his narrow face looked clever and bad…tempered。 To the pocket of his white turtleneck sweater was pinned a rectangular name…plate of the sort worn by soldiers： SINGER。
'But I do think we have met each other somewhere； don't you； my lad？ I assure you； we must have…I don't forget； I am literally incapable of forgetting； the face of a boy I have encountered。 Have you ever been in trouble before this； Jack？'
Jack said； 'I never saw you before。'
Across the room； a massive boy had lifted himself off one of the blue couches and was now standing at attention。 He too wore a white turtleneck sweater and a military nameplate。 His hands wandered nervously from his sides to his belt； into the pockets of his blue jeans； back to his sides。 He was at least six…three and seemed to weigh nearly three hundred pounds。 Acne burned across his cheeks and forehead。 This； clearly； was Bast。
'Well； perhaps it will e to me later；' Sunlight Gardener said。 'Heck； e up here and help our new arrivals at the desk； will you？'
Bast lumbered forward； scowling。 He made a point of ing up very close to Wolf before he sidestepped past him； scowling more fiercely all the while…if Wolf had opened his eyes； which he did not； he would have seen no more than the ravaged moonscape of Bast's forehead and the mean small eyes； like a bear's eyes； bulging up at him from beneath crusty brows。 Bast switched his gaze to Jack； muttered； 'C'mon；' and flapped a hand toward the desk。
'Registration； then take them up to the laundry for clothes；' Gardener said in a flat voice。 He smiled with chromelike brilliance at Jack。 'Jack Parker；' he said softly。 'I wonder who you really are； Jack Parker。 Bast； make sure everything is out of his pockets。'
Bast grinned。
Sunlight Gardener drifted across the room toward an obviously impatient Franky Williams and languidly withdrew a long leather wallet from his jacket's inside pocket。 Jack saw him begin to count money out into the policeman's hands。
'Pay attention； snotface；' said the boy behind the desk； and Jack snapped around to face him。 The boy was playing with a pencil； the smirk on his face an utterly inadequate disguise for what seemed to Jack's keyed…up perceptions his characteristic anger…a rage that bubbled far down within him； eternally stoked。 'Can he write？'
'Jeez； I don't think so；' Jack said。
'Then you'll have to sign in for him。' Singer shoved two legal…sized sheets of paper at him。 'Print on the top line； write on the bottom one。 Where the X's are。' He fell back into his chair； raising the pencil to his lips； and slumped eloquently into its corner。 Jack supposed that was a trick learned from the very Reverend Sunlight Gardener。
JACK PARKER； he printed； and scrawled something like that at the bottom of the sheet。 PHILIP JACK WOLF。 Another scrawl； even less like his real handwriting。
'Now you're wards of the State of Indiana； and that's what you'll be for the next thirty days； unless you decide to stay longer。' Singer twitched the papers back toward himself。 'You'll be…'
'Decide？' Jack asked。 'What do you mean； decide？'
A trifle of red grew smooth beneath Singer's cheeks。 He jerked his head to one side and seemed to smile。 'I guess you don't know that over sixty percent of our kids are here voluntarily。 It's possible； yeah。 You could decide to stay here。'
Jack tried to keep his face expressionless。
Singer's mouth twitched violently； as if a fishhook had snagged it。 'This is a pretty good place； and if I ever hear you ranking it I'll pound the shit out of you…it's the best place you've ever been in； I'm sure。 I'll tell you another thing： you got no choice。 You have to respect the Sunlight Home。 You understand？'
Jack nodded his head。
'How about him？ Does he？'
Jack looked up at Wolf； who was blinking slowly and breathing through his mouth。
'I think so。'
'All right。 The two of you will be bunkmates。 The day starts at five in the morning； when we have chapel。 Fieldwork until seven； then breakfast in the dining hall。 Back to the field until noon； when we get lunch plus Bible readings…everybody gets a crack at this； so you better start thinking about what you'll read。 None of that sexy stuff from the Song of Songs； either； unless you want to find out what discipline means。 More work after lunch。'
He looked sharply up at Jack。 'Hey； don't think that you work for nothing at the Sunlight Home。 Part of our arrangement with the state is that everybody gets a fair hourly wage； which is set against the cost of keeping you here…clothes and food； electricity； heating； stuff like that。 You are credited fifty cents an hour。 That means that you earn five dollars a day for the hours you put in…thirty dollars a week。 Sundays are spent in the Sunlight Chapel； except for the hour when we actually put on the Sunlight Gardener Gospel Hour。'
The red smoothed itself out under the surface of his skin again； and Ja
