sk.thetalisman-第90部分
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se filthy pictures of what he called 'sexed…out women；' Wolf's stomach rumbled so loudly that Jack elbowed him。
Following the last confession of the evening； Sunlight Gardener offered a short； melodious prayer。 Then he stood in the doorway； informal and yet resplendent in his jeans and white silk shirt； as the boys filed out。 As Jack and Wolf passed； he closed one of his hands around Jack's wrist。
'I've met you before。' Confess； Sunlight Gardener's eyes demanded。
And Jack felt an urge to do just that。
Oh yes； we know each other； yes。 You whipped my back bloody。
'No；' he said。
'Oh yes；' Gardener said。 'Oh yes。 I've met you before。 In California？ In Maine？ Oklahoma？ Where？'
Confess。
'I don't know you；' Jack said。
Gardener giggled。 Inside his own head； Jack suddenly knew； Sunlight Gardener was jigging and dancing and snapping a bullwhip。 'So Peter said when he was asked to identify Jesus Christ；' he said。 'But Peter lied。 So do you； I think。 Was it in Texas； Jack？ El Paso？ Was it in Jerusalem in another life？ On Golgotha； the place of the skull？'
'I tell you…'
'Yes； yes； I know； we've only just met。' Another giggle。 Wolf； Jack saw； had shied as far away from Sunlight Gardener as the doorway would allow。 It was the smell。 The gagging； cloying smell of the man's cologne。 And under it； the smell of craziness。
'I never forget a face； Jack。 I never forget a face or a place。 I'll remember where we met。'
His eyes flicked from Jack to Wolf…Wolf whined a little and pulled back…and then back to Jack again。
'Enjoy your dinner； Jack；' he said。 'Enjoy your dinner； Wolf。 Your real life at the Sunlight Home begins tomorrow。'
Halfway to the stairs； he turned and looked back。
'I never forget a place or a face； Jack。 I'll remember。'
Coldly； Jack thought； God； I hope not。 Not until I'm about two thousand miles away from this fucking pris…
Something slammed into him hard。 Jack flew out into the hall； pinwheeling his arms madly for balance。 He hit his head on the bare concrete floor and saw a tangled shower of stars。
When he was able to sit up； he saw Singer and Bast standing together； grinning。 Behind them was Casey； his gut pouching out his white turtleneck。 Wolf was looking at Singer and Bast； and something in his tensed…down posture alarmed Jack。
'No； Wolf！' he said sharply。
Wolf slumped。
'No； go ahead； dummy；' Heck Bast said； laughing a little。 'Don't listen to him。 Go on and try me； if you want。 I always liked a little warmup before dinner。'
Singer glanced at Wolf and said； 'Leave the dummy alone； Heck。 He's just the body。' He nodded at Jack。 'There's the head。 There's the head we got to change。' He looked down at Jack； hands on his knees； like an adult bending to pass a pleasant word or two with a very small child。 'And we will change it； Mr。 Jack Parker。 You can believe it。'
Deliberately； Jack said； 'Piss off； you bullying asshole。'
Singer recoiled as if slapped； a flush rising out of his collar； up his neck； and into his face。 With a growl； Heck Bast stepped forward。
Singer grabbed Bast's arm。 Still looking at Jack； he said； 'Not now。 Later。'
Jack got to his feet。 'You want to watch out for me；' he said quietly to them both； and although Hector Bast only glowered； Sonny Singer looked almost scared。 For a moment he seemed to see something in Jack Sawyer's face that was both strong and forbidding…something that had not been there almost two months ago； when a much younger boy had set the small seafront town of Arcadia Beach to his back and had begun walking west。
4
Jack thought that Uncle Tommy might have described dinner…not unkindly…as consisting of American Grange Hall Cuisine。 The boys sat at long tables and were served by four of their number； who had changed into clean mess…whites following the confession period。
Following another prayer； chow was duly brought on。 Big glass bowls full of home…baked beans were passed up and down the four tables； steaming platters of cheap red hotdogs； tureens of canned pineapple chunks； lots of milk in plain cartons marked DONATED MODITIES and INDIANA STATE DAIRY MISSION。
Wolf ate with grim concentration； his head down； a piece of bread always in one hand to serve as a bination pusher and mopper。 As Jack watched； he gobbled five hotdogs and three helpings of the bullet…hard beans。 Thinking of the small room with its closed window； Jack wondered if he were going to need a gas…mask tonight。 He supposed so…not that he was likely to be issued one。 He watched dismally as Wolf slopped a fourth helping of beans onto his plate。
Following dinner； all the boys rose； formed lines； and cleared the tables。 As Jack took his dishes； a Wolf…decimated loaf of bread； and two milk…pitchers out into the kitchen； he kept his eyes wide open。 The stark labels on the milk cartons had given him an idea。
This place wasn't a prison； and it wasn't a workhouse。 It was probably classed as a boarding school or something； and the law would demand that some sort of state inspectors must keep an eye on it。 The kitchen would be a place where the State of Indiana's eye would fall most often。 Bars on the windows upstairs； okay。 Bars on the kitchen windows？ Jack didn't think so。 They would raise too many questions。
The kitchen might make a good jumping…off point for an escape attempt； so Jack studied it carefully。
It looked a lot like the cafeteria kitchen at his school in California。 The floor and walls were tiled； the big sinks and counters stainless steel。 The cupboards were nearly the size of vegetable bins。 An old conveyor…belt dishwasher stood against one wall。 Three boys were already operating this hoary antique under the supervision of a man in cook's whites。 The man was narrow； pallid； and possessed of a ratlike little face。 An unfiltered cigarette was pasted to his upper lip； and that identified him in Jack's mind as a possible ally。 He doubted if Sunlight Gardener would let any of his own people smoke cigarettes。
On the wall； he saw a framed certificate which announced that this public kitchen had been rated acceptable under standards set by the State of Indiana and the U。S。 Government。
And no； there were no bars on the frosted…glass windows。
The ratlike man looked over at Jack； peeled his cigarette off his lower lip； and tossed it into one of the sinks。
'New fish； you and your buddy； huh？' he asked。 'Well； you'll be old fish soon enough。 The fish get old real quick here in the Sunlight Home； don't they； Sonny？'
He grinned insolently at Sonny Singer。 It was quite obvious that Singer did not know how to cope with such a smile； he looked confused and unsure； just a kid again。
'You know you're not supposed to talk to the boys； Rudolph；' he said。
'You can just cram it up your ass anytime you can't roll it down the alley or kick it in the air； buddy…roo；' Rudolph said； flicking his eyes lazily over Singer。 'You know that； don't you？'
Singer looked at him； lips first trembling； then writhing； then pushing together hard。
He suddenly turned around。 'Night…chapel！' he shouted furiously。 'Night…chapel； e on； let's go； get those tables cleared and let's get up the hall； we're late！ Night…chapel！'
5
The boys trooped down a narrow staircase lit by naked bulbs enclosed in wire mesh。 The walls were dank plaster； and Jack didn't like the way Wolf's eyeballs were rolling。
After that； the cellar chapel was a surprise。 Most of the downstairs area…which was considerable…had been converted into a spare； modern chapel。 The air down here was good…not too warm； not too cold。 And fresh。 Jack could hear the whispering of convection units somewhere near。 There were five pews split by a central aisle； leading up to a dais with a lectern and a simple wooden cross hung on a purple velvet backdrop。
Somewhere； an organ was playing。
The boys filed quietly into the pews。 The microphone on the lectern had a large； professional…looking baffle on the end of it。 Jack had been in plenty of studio sound…rooms with his mother； often sitting patiently by and reading a book or doing his homework assignments whi
