dclegg.purity-第5部分

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　3
　His　eyes　turned　to　slits　against　the　western　sun；　it　was　the　last　ferry　of　the　day；　and　he　couldn't　find　her　or　her　parents　among　those　on　the　deck。
　Perhaps　she　wouldn't　be　ing　until　after　the　holiday　…　it　had　happened　before；　but　several　years　back。　He　didn't　want　to　believe　it　because　he　never　liked　to　consider　the　options　that　people　had。　His　own　life　felt　without　option。
　He　had　created　within　himself　the　person　who　could　most　handle　his　life。　He　had　worked　his　body；　developed　the　grace　of　an　athlete；　he　had　tried　to　keep　his　face　pleasant　…　and　when　the　anxieties　of　his　family　or　of　studies　became　unbearable；　he　would　go　to　the　mirror　and　practice　relaxing　his　facial　features　until　he　was　sure　he　looked　pleasant　again。　He　did　not　want　to　seem　anxious；　even　if　he　was。　He　wanted　to　give　nothing　away　to　those　around　him。
　He　ran　down　to　the　docks　to　see　if　she　might　be　somewhere　else　on　the　ferry　…　perhaps　she　was　sick　and　wanted　to　stay　below。　Perhaps　she　was　taking　a　nap　in　the　back　seat　of　her　family's　Range　Rover。　Perhaps　perhaps；　he　repeated　to　himself　as　he　sloughed　off　inertia；　and　jogged　down　to　the　paved　road　near　the　marina。
　The　summer　people　were　like　ticks　…　they　attached　themselves　to　every　aspect　of　the　Haven；　they　drank　all　the　beer；　they　ate　the　best　the　local　cooks　had　to　offer；　they　had　all　the　accidents　…　more　people　would　die　from　boating　or　swimming　mishaps　in　three　months　than　would　die　in　six　years　in　the　other　seasons　of　the　island。
　They　were　careless；　they　were　bloodsucking；　they　were　here　to　forget　the　venal　world　from　which　they　came。
　They；　he　thought。
　They。
　They　poured　from　the　ferry；　bicyclists；　clownish　men　and　women　in　golfing　outfits；　or　overly　gilded　women　with　poodles　and　wolfhounds　and　Shih　Tzus；　followed　by　weary　overworked　doctor…husbands；　the　college　crowd；　too；　had　begun　filling　up　the　local　bars　and　the　beach；　and　all　these　he　hated　with　a　passion。　He　had　spent　his　life　watching　them　e　and　be　carefree　in　the　summer。　He　had　watched　them　spend　more　money　some　nights　than　his　father　could　make　in　a　month。
　Dagon；　he　prayed；　Dagon；　hear　me。　Cast　them　down。　Raise　me　up。
　He　ached　for　what　they　had。　The　lives　they　had。　The　freedom　from　this　island。　From　the　world　he　had　mastered。
　He　read　books　on　Manhattan；　he　learned　about　Jenna's　family；　how　her　great…great…grandfather　had　worked　on　railroads　and　then　had　gone　on　to　own　them；　and　how　her　great…grandfather　had　lost　that　fortune；　how　her　grandfather　had　gotten　into　radio　and　television　and　magazines；　owning　several；　selling　them；　building　up　a　small　but　substantial　media　empire；　how　her　mother　had　continued　that　work；　married　a　great　media　magnate；　divorced；　married　again；　had　Jenna　and　remained　with　Mr。　M　although　the　marriage　ran　hot　and　cold。
　The　story　of　Jenna's　family　was　the　story　of　all　the　summer　people；　and　though　they　lived　simply　on　the　island　for　the　three　months；　though　they　rode　cheap　bikes　around　the　Great　Salt　Pond；　though　they　dressed　casually　even　for　the　one　restaurant　in　Old　Town　Harbor　（the　Salty　Dog）；　they　were　all　overmoneyed　as　his　father　often　said。
　His　father　spoke　of　money　as　evil；　his　mother　spoke　of　it　like　a　lost　child。
　Owen　felt　it　was　something　like　fire　…　to　be　feared　and　mastered。　It　was　what　other　people　were　given。
　It's　what　he　would　be　granted。
　And　these　people　tromping　off　the　ferry　had　it。　They　lived　it。　They　did　not　dream　of　getting　off　this　island。　They　dreamed　of　things　beyond　what　Owen　could　imagine。
　4
　She　never　arrived；　and　he　walked　the　long　narrow　wooden　staircase　from　the　beach　up　to　the　bluffs；　and　then　he　ran　along　the　fringe　of　pines　to　the　dirt　path　that　went　further　up　the　rolling　cliffs；　and　he　didn't　look　back　down　to　the　water　until　he　was　at　their　property。
　At　the　house；　he　went　and　sat　in　one　of　the　wrought…iron　lawn　chairs　and　leaned　back　to　gaze　up　at　the　sky。
　〃Owen？〃
　He　sat　up；　looking　around。　He　rose　from　the　chair；　practically　knocking　it　over；　and　there　she　was　…　at　the　third　story　attic　window。
　No；　it　was　Mrs。　M。　Her　auburn　hair　was　swept　back　from　her　face；　damp　from　the　swimming　pool；　her　robe　fastened　none　too　tight。　She　possessed　the　air　of　having　enjoyed　life　too　much　that　day。　〃Owen？　It's　good　to　see　you。〃
　〃Yeah；　Mrs。　M；　me　too。　I　didn't　think　you　had　got　here　just　yet。〃
　〃Oh；　my　husband　still　hasn't　left　his　desk　yet。　I've　been　here　since　Wednesday。
　Good　to　be　back。　I　despise　the　city。〃
　〃Survive　winter　okay？〃
　〃Superbly；〃　she　said；　but　in　a　way　that　meant　its　opposite。　Mrs。　M　was　a　woman　full　of　irony；　he　had　known　it　for　years。　Mrs。　M　embodied　the　house：
　beautiful；　classic；　and　rich。　〃Do　you　want　coffee？〃　she　asked。
　5
　〃I　saw　you　waiting　for　her；〃　Mrs。　M　said。　They　were　in　the　sunroom　off　the　kitchen；　and　Owen　had　just　finished　his　first　cup　of　cinnamon　coffee。　He　got　up　to　pour　himself　another；　but　Mrs。　M　interceded；　she　had　a　fresh　cup；　with　cream；　all　ready　for　him。　He　sat　down　at　the　table　again。　She　took　the　chair　across　from　him。　He　saw　her　knee　emerge　from　her　robe。　The　hint　of　her　champagne　glass　breasts；　small　but　perfect。　Mrs。　M　was　in　many　ways　more　beautiful　than　her　daughter；　but　still；　his　heart　belonged　to　Jenna。
　He　did　what　he　could　to　look　at　her　face；　but　something　in　her　eyes　bothered　him。　He　looked；　instead；　at　her　silken　arms。
　〃You're　in　love　with　my　daughter。　No；　that's　fine。　I've　known　it　since　you　were　both　young。　Do　you　think　it　will　lead　anywhere？〃
　〃Lead？〃　He　said　the　word　innocently；　but　she　must've　seen　through　this。
　〃I　don't　know。〃
　〃Yes；　you　do。　You're　smart。　I've　watched　you　grow　up。　You're　smart　and　handsome　and　wise。　But；　do　you　think　that　she　will　have　you？〃
　〃I　haven't。。。I　haven't　considered。。。〃　he　stammered。
　〃You're　a　remarkable　young　man；〃　Mrs。　M　said。　〃She　doesn't　deserve　you。〃　Then；　she　put　down　her　own　untouched　coffee；　and　stood　up　from　the　table。　〃She　gets　in　tonight。　After　midnight。〃
　〃How？　The　ferry　…〃
　〃She　has　her　ways；〃　Mrs。　M　said。　She　brushed　something　from　the　edge　of　her　eye；　and　bed　her　hands　through　her　hair　like　a　mermaid　would。
　〃Fancy　a　swim？〃
　〃Not　today；〃　he　said。
　〃e　on；　just　a　nice　long　swim。　Have　you　been　practicing　all　winter？〃
　He　nodded。
　〃I　thought　so。　You　ripple　now。　You　don't　move；　you　ripple。　You're　in　better　shape　than　he　is；〃　Mrs。　M　said；　and　then　went　to　get　her　bathing　suit。
　6
　e　midnight；　he　saw　the　shroud　of　some　sailboat　press　beneath　the　lights　of　the　harbor。　He　sat　up　on　the　bluffs　and　watched　as　she　docked；　as　the　sail　came　down。　No　one　stepped　off　the　boat　at　the　jetty。　Was　it　her？　Was　this　what　Mrs。　M　had　meant？
　He　fell　asleep　in　the　cool　wet　grass　and　awoke　at　dawn。
　And　he　knew。
　Jenna　Montgomery　had　found　another。
　7
　〃Jimmy；〃　the　guy　said；　his　face　gleaming；　tanned；　teeth　so　much　thoroughbred　he　could've　been　in　Pimlico；　his　eyes　squinty；　his　nose　small；　his　hair　honey…blond　from　too　much　sun；　and　his　handshake　strong　and　sure　and　arrogant。　He　looked　rich　without　ever　having　to　say　it。　He　smelled　rich。　He　probably　tasted　rich。　〃Good　to　meet　you；　Crites。〃
　〃Owen。〃
　〃You're　not　an　Owen　or　a　Crites；〃　Jimmy　said。　〃You're　a　Mooncalf。〃
　〃Mooncalf？〃　Jenna　laughed；　looking　at　Owen　and　then　back　at　Jimmy。
　〃That　sounds　ghastly。〃　She　wore　a　bikini；　but　had　a　long　towel　draped　about　her　waist　that　ran　all　the　way　to　her　ankles。　Her　hair　was　wet　and　shining　from　a　morning　swim。　For　a　moment；　Owen　imagined　how　it　would　feel　to　untie　the　bikini　top　and　press　his　face　against　her　breasts。　For　a　moment；　the　image　was　in　his　mind；　then；　gone。
　All　Owen　could　think　was：　they'd　slept　together　on　the　boat。　Jenna　and　this　Jimmy　character。　Jimmy　had　done　it　with　Jenna。
　Done　it。
　A　sacred　act　if　it　was　love。
　A　debased　ritual；　if　it　was　lust　and　emptiness。
　Which　it　had　to　be。
　He　tried　not　to　imagine　Jimmy　drawing　her　legs　apart；　or　the　scent　of　passion　that　clung　to　them；　the　sweat　and　fever；　as　they　joined　together。
　Tried　not　to　imagine　the　thrusts。
　〃Mooncalf　reminds　me　of　upstate　New　York；　or　Pennsylvania；〃　Jenna　said　with　no　little　disgust。　〃Cows　and　chickens。　Amish　in　carriages。　Birthings　and　midwives。　Owen　can't　be　a　Mooncalf。〃
　Jim　snorted。　〃No；