dk.intensity-第2部分

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reams。　But　there's　always　a　threat；　always　a　possibility。
　〃So　these　aren't　just　dreams。　They're　memories　too。〃
　〃I　wish　they　were　just　dreams。〃
　〃What　about　when　you're　awake？〃　Laura　asked。
　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　〃Do　you　just　turn　all　warm　and　fuzzy　and　let　yourself　go　when　a　man　makes　love　to　you　。。。　or　is　the　past　always　there？〃
　〃What　is　this…analysis　at　eighty　miles　an　hour？〃
　〃Dodging　the　question？〃
　〃You're　a　snoop。〃
　〃It's　called　friendship。〃
　〃It's　called　snoopery。〃
　〃Dodging　the　question？〃
　Chyna　sighed。　〃All　right。　I　like　being　with　a　man。　I'm　not　inhibited。　I'll　admit　that　I've　never　felt　as　though　I'm　a　creature　of　light　going　to　explode　into　a　new　universe；　but　I've　been　fully　satisfied；　always　had　fun。〃
　〃Fully？〃
　〃Fully。〃
　Chyna　had　never　actually　been　with　a　man　until　she　was　twentyone；　and　her　intimate　relationships　now　totaled　exactly　two。　Both　had　been　gentle；　kind；　and　decent　men；　and　in　each　case　Cbyna　bad　greatly　enjoyed　the　lovemaking。　One　affair　had　lasted　eleven　months；　the　other　thirteen；　and　neither　lover　had　left　her　a　single　troubling　memory。　Nevertheless；　neither　man　had　helped　her　banish　the　vicious　dreams；　which　continued　to　plague　her　periodically；　and　she'd　been　unable　to　achieve　an　emotional　bond　equal　to　the　physical　intimacy。　To　a　man　whom　she　loved；　Chyna　could　give　her　body；　but　even　for　love；　she　could　not　entirely　give　her　mind　and　heart。　She　was　afraid　to　mit　herself；　to　trust　without　reservation。　No　one　in　her　life；　with　the　possible　exception　of　Laura　Templeton…stunt　driver　and　dream　flier…had　ever　earned　total　trust。
　Wind　shrieked　along　the　sides　of　the　car。　In　the　flickering　shadows　and　fiery　light；　the　long　incline　ahead　of　them　seemed　to　be　a　ramp；　as　if　they　were　going　to　be　launched　into　space　when　they　reached　the　top；　vaulting　across　a　dozen　burning　buses　while　a　stadium　full　of　thrill…seekers　cheered。
　〃What　if　a　tire　blows？〃　Chyna　asked。
　〃The　tires　won't　blow；〃　Laura　said　confidently。
　〃What　if　one　does？〃
　Wrenching　her　face　into　an　exaggerated；　demonic　grin；　Laura　said；　〃Then　we're　just　girl　jelly　in　a　can。　They　won't　even　be　able　to　separate　the　remains　into　two　distinct　bodies。　A　total　amorphous　mess。　They　won't　even　need　coffins　for　us。　They'll　just　pour　our　remains　in　a　jug　and　put　us　in　one　grave；　and　the　headstone　will　read：　Laura　Chyna　Templeton　Shepherd。　Only　a　Cuisinart　Would　Have　Been　More　Thorough。　〃
　Chyna　had　hair　so　dark　that　it　was　virtually　black；　and　Laura　was　a　blue…eyed　blonde；　yet　they　were　enough　alike　to　be　sisters。　Both　were　five　feet　four　and　slender；　they　wore　the　same　dress　size。　Each　had　high　cheekbones　and　delicate　features。　Chyna　had　always　felt　that　her　mouth　was　too　wide；　but　Laura；　whose　mouth　was　as　wide　as　Chyna's；　said　it　wasn't　wide　at　all　but　merely　〃generous〃　enough　to　ensure　an　especially　winning　smile。
　As　Laura's　love　of　speed　proved；　however；　they　were　in　some　ways　profoundly　different　people。　The　differences；　perhaps　more　than　the　similarities；　were　what　drew　them　to　each　other。　
　〃You　think　your　mom　and　dad　will　like　me？〃　Chyna　asked。
　〃I　thought　you　were　worried　about　a　blown　tire。〃
　〃I'm　a　multichannel　worrier。　Will　they　like　me？〃
　〃Of　course　they'll　like　you。　You　know　what　I　worry　about？〃　Laura　asked　as　they　raced　toward　the　top　of　the　incline。
　〃Apparently；　not　death。〃
　〃You。　I　worry　about　you；〃　Laura　said。　She　glanced　at　Chyna；　and　her　expression　was　uncharacteristically　serious。　
　〃I　can　take　care　of　myself；〃　Chyna　assured　her。
　〃I　don't　doubt　that。　I　know　you　too　well　to　doubt　that。　But　life　isn't　just　about　taking　care　of　yourself；　keeping　your　head　down；　getting　through。〃
　〃Laura　Templeton；　girl　philosopher。〃
　〃Life　is　about　living。〃
　〃Deep；〃　Chyna　said　sarcastically。
　〃Deeper　than　you　think。〃
　The　Mustang　crested　the　long　hill；　and　there　were　no　burning　buses　or　cheering　multitudes；　but　ahead　of　them　was　an　older…model　Buick；　cruising　well　below　the　posted　limit。　Laura　cut　their　speed　by　more　than　half；　and　they　pulled　behind　the　other　car。　Even　in　the　fading　light；　Chyna　could　see　that　the　round…shouldered　driver　was　a　white…haired；　elderly　man。
　They　were　in　a　no…passing　zone。　The　road　rose　and　fell；　turned　left　and　right；　rose　again；　and　they　could　not　see　far　ahead。
　Laura　switched　on　the　Mustang　headlights；　hoping　to　encourage　the　driver　of　the　Buick　either　to　increase　his　speed　or　to　ease　over　where　the　shoulder　widened　to　let　them　pass。
　〃Take　your　own　advice…relax；　kiddo；〃　Chyna　said。
　〃Hate　to　be　late　for　dinner。〃
　〃From　everything　you've　said　about　her；　I　don't　think　your　mom's　the　type　to　beat　us　with　wire　coat　hangers。〃
　〃Mom's　the　best。〃
　〃So　relax；〃　Chyna　said。
　〃But　she　has　this　disappointed　look　she　gives　you　that's　worse　than　wire　coat　hangers。　Most　people　don't　know　this；　but　Mom　is　the　reason　the　Cold　War　ended。　Several　years　ago；　the　Pentagon　sent　her　off　to　Moscow　so　she　could　give　the　whole　damn　Politburo　the　Look；　and　all　those　Soviet　thugs　just　collapsed　with　remorse。〃
　Ahead　of　them；　the　old　man　in　the　Buick　checked　his　rearview　mirror。
　The　white　hair　in　the　headlight　beams；　the　angle　of　the　man's　head；　and　the　mere　suggestion　of　his　eyes　reflected　in　the　mirror　suddenly　engendered　in　Chyna　a　powerful　sense　of　deja　vu。　For　a　moment；　she　didn't　understand　why　a　chill　came　over　her…but　then　she　was　cast　back　in　memory　to　an　incident　that　she　had　long　tried　unsuccessfully　to　forget：　another　twilight；　nineteen　years　ago；　a　lonely　Florida　highway。
　〃Oh；　Jesus；〃　she　said。
　Laura　glanced　at　her。　〃What's　wrong？〃
　Chyna　closed　her　eyes。
　〃Chyna；　you're　as　white　as　a　ghost。　What　is　it？〃
　〃A　long　time　ago　。。。　when　I　was　just　a　little　girl；　seven　years　old　。。。　Maybe　we　were　in　the　Everglades；　maybe　not　。。。　buttheland　was　swampy　like　the　'glades。　There　weren't　many　trees；　and　the　few　you　could　see　were　hung　with　Spanish　moss。　Everything　was　flat　as　far　as　you　could　see；　lots　of　sky　and　flatness；　the　sunlight　red　and　fading　like　now；　a　back　road　somewhere；　far　away　from　anything；　very　rural；　two　narrow　lanes；　so　damn　empty　and　lonely。　。　。　。〃
　Chyna　had　been　with　her　mother　and　Jim　Woltz；　a　Key　West　drug　dealer　and　gunrunner　with　whom　they　had　lived　now　and　then；　for　a　month　or　two　at　a　time；　during　her　childhood。　They　had　been　on　a　business　trip　and　had　been　returning　to　the　Keys　in　Woltzs　vintage　red　Cadillac；　one　of　those　models　with　massive　tailfins　and　with　what　seemed　to　be　five　tons　of　chrome　grillwork。　Woltz　was　driving　fast　on　that　straight　highway；　exceeding　a　hundred　miles　an　hour　at　times。　They　hadn't　encountered　another　car　for　almost　fifteen　minutes　before　they　roared　up　behind　the　elderly　couple　in　the　tan　Mercedes。　The　woman　was　driving。　Birdlike。　Close…cropped　silver　hair。　Seventyfive　if　she　was　a　day。　She　was　doing　forty　miles　an　hour。　Woltz　could　have　pulled　around　the　Mercedes；　they　were　in　a　passing　zone；　and　no　traffic　was　in　sight　for　miles　on　that　dead…flat　highway。
　〃But　he　was　high　on　something；〃　Chyna　told　Laura；　eyes　still　closed；　watching　the　memory　with　growing　dread　as　it　played　like　a　movie　on　a　screen　behind　her　eyes。　〃He　was　most　of　the　time　high　on　something。　Maybe　it　was　cocaine　that　day。　I　don't　know。　Don't　remember。　He　was　drinking　too。　They　were　both　drinking；　him　and　my　mother。　They　had　a　cooler　full　of　ice。　Bottles　of　grapefruit　juice　and　vodka。　The　old　lady　in　the　Mercedes　was　driving　really　slow；　and　that　incensed　Woltz。　He　wasn't　rational。　What　did　it　matter　to　him？　He　could've　pulled　around　her。　But　the　sight　of　her　driving　so　slow　on　the　wide…open　highway　infuriated　him。　Drugs　and　booze；　that's　all。　So　irrational。　When　he　was　angry　。。。　red…faced；　arteries　throbbing　in　his　neck；　jaw　muscles　bulging。　No　one　could　get　angry　quite　as　totally　as　Jim　Woltz。　His　rage　excited　my　mother。　Always　excited　her。　So　she　teased　him；　encouraged　him。　I　was　in　the　backseat；　hanging　on　tight；　pleading　with　her　to　stop；　but　she　kept　at　him。〃
　For　a　while；　Woltz　had　hung　close　behind　the　other　car；　blowing　his　horn　at　the　elderly　couple；　trying　to　force　them　to　go　faster。　A　few　times　he　had　nudged　the　rear　bumper　of　the　Mercedes　with　the　front　bumper　of　the　Cadillac；　metal　kissing　metal