cb.imajica1-第30部分
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t into the hallway in search of some cooler air。 There was a cellist on the half landing； playing In the Bleak Midwinter； the melody and the instrument it was being played upon bining to melancholy effect。 The front door stood open； and the air through it raised goose bumps。 She went to close it； only to have one of the other listeners discreetly whisper； 〃There's somebody being sick out there。〃
She glanced into the street。 There was indeed somebody sitting on the edge of the pavement； in the posture of one resigned to the dictates of his belly： head down； elbows on his knees； waiting for the next surge。 Perhaps she made a sound。 Perhaps he simply felt her gaze on him。 He raised his head and looked around。
〃Gentle； What are you doing out here？〃
〃What does it look like？〃 He hadn't looked too pretty last time she'd seen him； but he looked a damn sight worse now： haggard； unshaven； and waxy with nausea。
〃There's a bathroom in the house。〃
〃There's a wheelchair up there；〃 Gentle said； with an almost superstitious look。 〃I'd prefer to be sick out here。〃
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand。 It was virtually covered in paint。 So was the other； she now saw； and his trousers； and his shirt。
〃You've been busy。〃
He misunderstood。 〃I shouldn't have drunk anything；〃 he said。
〃Do you want me to get you some water？〃
〃No； thanks。 I'm going home。 Will you say goodbye to Taylor and Clem for me？ I can't face going back in。 I'll disgrace myself。〃 He got to his feet； stumbling a little。 〃We don't seem to meet under very pleasant circumstances； do we？〃 he said。
〃I think I should drive you home。 You'll either kill yourself or somebody else。〃
〃It's all right；〃 he said； raising his painted hands。 〃The roads are empty。 I'll be fine。〃 He started to rummage in his pocket for his car keys。
〃You saved my life； let me return the favor。〃
He looked up at her； his eyelids drooping。 〃Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea。〃
She went back inside to say farewell on behalf of herself and Gentle。 Taylor was back in his chair。 She caught sight of him before he saw her。 He was staring into middle distance； his eyes glazed。 It wasn't sorrow she read in his expression； but a fatigue so profound it had wiped all feeling from him except； maybe； regret for unsolved mysteries。 She went to him and explained that she'd found Gentle and that he was sick and needed taking…home。
〃Isn't he going to e and say goodbye？〃 Taylor said。
〃I think he's afraid of throwing up all over the carpet； or you； or both。〃
〃Tell him to call me。 Tell him I want to see him soon。〃 He took hold of Jude's hand； holding it with surprising strength。 〃Soon； tell him。〃
〃I will。〃
〃I want to see that grin of his one more time。〃
〃There'll be lots of times；〃 she said。
He shook his head。 〃Once will have to do；〃 he replied softly。
She kissed him and promised she'd call to say she got home safely。 On her way to the door she met Clem and once again made her apologies and farewells。
〃Call me if there's anything I can do；〃 she offered。
〃Thanks； but I think it's a waiting game。〃
〃Then we can wait together。〃
〃Better just him and me；〃 Clem said。 〃But I will call。〃
He glanced towards Taylor； who was once more staring at nothing。
〃He's determined to hold on till spring。 One more spring； he keeps saying。 He never gave a fuck about crocuses till now。〃 Clem smiled。 〃You know what's wonderful？〃 he said。 〃I've fallen in love with him all over again。〃
〃That is wonderful。〃
〃And now I'm going to lose him； just when I realize what he means to me。 You won't make that mistake； will you？〃 He looked at her hard。 〃You know who I mean。〃
She nodded。
〃Good。 Then you'd better take him home。〃
The roads were as empty as he'd predicted； and it took only fifteen minutes to get back to Gentle's studio。 He wasn't exactly coherent。 On the way； the exchanges between them were full of gaps and discontinuities； as though his mind were running ahead of his tongue； or behind it。 Drink wasn't the culprit。 Jude had seen Gentle drunk on all forms of alcohol； it made him roaring； randy； and sanctimonious by turns。 Never like this； with his head back against the seat； his eyes closed； talking〃 from the bottom of a pit。 One moment he was thanking her for looking after him； the next he was telling her not to mistake the paint on his hands for shit。 It wasn't shit； he kept saying； it was burnt umber； and prussian blue； and cadmium yellow； but somehow when you mixed colors together； any colors； they always came out looking like shit eventually。 This monologue dwindled into silence； from which； a minute or two later； a new subject emerged。
〃I can't look at him； you know； the way he is。 。 。〃
〃Who？〃 Jude said。
〃Taylor。 I can't look at him when he's so sick。 You know how much I hate sickness。〃
She'd forgotten。 It amounted to a paranoia with him； fueled perhaps by the fact that though he treated his body with scant regard for its health he not only never sickened but hardly aged。 Doubtless the collapse； when it came； would be calamitous： excess； frenzy； and the passage of years taking their toll in one fell swoop。 Until that time he wanted no reminders of his physical frailty。
〃Taylor's going to die； isn't he？〃 he said。
〃Clem thinks very soon。〃
Gentle gave a heavy sigh。 〃I should spend some time with him。 We were good friends once。〃
〃There were rumors about you two。〃
〃He spread them； not me。〃
〃Just rumors； were they？〃
〃What do you think？〃
〃I think you've probably tried every experience that swam by at least once。〃
〃He's not my type；〃 Gentle said； not opening his eyes。
〃You should see him again；〃 she said。 〃You've got to face up to falling apart sooner or later。 It happens to us all。〃
〃Not to me it won't。 When I start'to decay； I'm going to kill myself。 I swear。〃 He made fists of his painted hands and raised them to his face； drawing the knuckles down over his cheeks。 〃I won't let it happen；〃 he said。
〃Good luck；〃 she replied。
They drove the rest of the way without any further exchange between them； his passive presence on the passenger seat beside her making her uneasy。 She kept thinking of Taylor's story and expecting him to start talking； unleashing a stream of lunacies。 It wasn't until she announced that they'd arrived at the studio that she realized he'd fallen asleep。 She stared at him awhile： at the smooth dome of his forehead and the delicate configuration of his lips。 It was still in her to dote on him； no question of that。 But what lay that way？ Disappointment and frustrated rage。 Despite Clem's words of encouragement she was almost certain it was a lost cause。
She shook him awake and asked him if she could use his bathroom before going on her way。 The punch was heavy in her bladder。 He was hesitant； which surprised her。 The suspicion dawned that he'd already moved a female panion into the studio； some seasonal bird to be stuffed for Christmas and dumped by New Year。 Curiosity made her press to be allowed in。 Reluctant as he was； he could scarcely say no； of course； and she traipsed up the stairs after him； wondering as she went what the conquest was going to look like； only to find that the studio was empty。 His sole panion was the painting that had so filthied his hands。 He seemed genuinely upset that she'd set eyes on it and ushered her to the bathroom； more disfited than if her first suspicions had been correct and one of his conquests had indeed been disporting herself on the thread… bare couch。 Poor Gentle。 He was getting stranger by the day。
She relieved herself and emerged from the toilet to find the painting covered with a stained sheet and him looking furtive and fidgety； clearly eager to have her out of the place。 She saw no reason not to be plain with him； and said； 〃Working on something new？〃
〃Nothing much；〃 he said。
〃I'd like to see。〃
〃It's not finished。〃
〃It doesn't matter to me if it's a fake；〃 she said。 〃I know what you and Klein get up to。〃
〃It's not a fake；〃 he said； a fierceness in his voice and face she'd not seen so far tonight。 〃It's mine。〃
〃An original Zacharias？〃 she remarked。 〃This I have to see。〃
She reached for the sheet； before he could stop her； and f
