cb.imajica1-第34部分
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Pie pressed the case； however； until she asked him what he was so nervous about。 He had no answer to give； at least none that she'd care to hear。 She understood nothing of his nature； nor questioned him about his past。 He was simply a provider； someone who put food in the mouths of her children and his arms around her at night。 But her question still hung in the air； so he answered it as best he could。
〃I'm afraid for us；〃 he said。
〃It's that old man； isn't it？〃 Theresa replied。 〃The one who came to see you？ Who was he？〃
〃He wanted a job done。〃
〃And you did it？〃
〃No。〃
〃So you think he's going to e back？〃 she said。 〃We'll set the dogs on him。〃
It was healthy to hear such plain solutions； even if…as now…they didn't answer the problem at hand。 His mystif soul was sometimes too readily drawn to the ambiguities that mirrored his true self。 But she chastened him； reminded him that he'd taken a face and a function and； in this human sphere； a sex； that as far as she was concerned he belonged in the fixed world of children； dogs； and orange peel。 There was no room for poetry in such straitened circumstances； no time between hard dawn and uneasy dusk for the luxury of doubt or speculation。
Now another of those dusks had fallen； and Theresa was putting her cherished ones to bed in the trailer。 They slept well。 He had a spell that he'd kept polished from the days of his power； a way of speaking prayers into a pillow so they'd sweeten the sleeper's dreams。 His Maestro had asked for its fort often； and Pie used it still； two hundred years later。 Even now Theresa was laying her children's heads upon down suffused with cradle songs； secreted…there to guide them from the dark world into the bright。
The mongrel he'd met at the perimeter in the predawn gloom was barking furiously； and he went out to calm it。 Seeing him approach it pulled on its chain； scrabbling at the dirt to be closer to him。 Its owner was a man Pie had little contact with； a short…tempered Scot who brutalized the dog when he could catch it。 Pie went down on his haunches to hush the creature； for fear its din brought the owner out from his supping。 The dog obeyed but continued to paw at Pie fretfully； clearly wanting to be loosed from its leash。
〃What's wrong； buster？〃 he said to it； scratching behind its war…torn ears。 〃Have you got a lady out there？〃
He looked up towards the perimeter as he spoke and caught the fleeting glimpse of a figure stepping into shadow behind one of the trailers。 The dog had seen the interloper too。 It set up a new round of barking。 Pie stood up again。 〃Who's there？〃 he demanded。
A sound at the other end of the encampment claimed his attention momentarily： water splashing on the ground。 No； not water。 The stench that reached his nostrils was that of petrol。 He looked back towards his own trailer。 Theresa's shadow was on the blind； her head bowed as she turned off the nightlight beside the children's bed。 The stench was ing from that direction too。 He reached down and released the dog。
〃Go； boy！ Go！ Go！〃
It ran barking at a figure slipping out through a gap in the fence。 As it went Pie started towards his trailer； yelling Theresa's name。
Behind him； somebody shouted for him to shut up out there； but the curses were unfinished； erased by the boom and bloom of fire； twin eruptions that lit the encampment from end to end。 He heard Theresa scream； saw Same surge up and around his trailer。 The spilled fuel was only a fuse。 Before he'd covered ten yards the mother lode exploded directly under the vehicle； the force sufficient to lift it off the ground and pitch it on its side。
Pie was blown over by a solid wave of heat。 By the time he'd scrabbled to his feet the trailer was a solid sheet of flame。 As he pitched himself through the baking air towards the pyre he heard another sobbing cry and realized it was his own； a sound he'd forgotten his throat could make but which was always the same； grief on grief。
Gentle had just sighted the church which had been Esta…brook's last landmark when a sudden day broke on the street ahead； as though the sun had e to burn the night away。 The car in front of his veered sharply； and he was only able to prevent a collision by mounting the pavement； bringing his own car to a juddering halt inches short of the church wall。
He got out and headed towards the fire on foot； turning a corner to head directly into the smoke； which veered and veered again as he ran； allowing him only glimpses of his destination。 He saw a corrugated iron fence； and beyond it a host of trailers； most of which were already ablaze。 Even if he'd not had Estabrook's description to confirm that this was indeed Pie 'oh' pah's home； the fact of its destruction would have marked it out。 Death had preceded him here； like his shadow； thrown forward by a blaze at his back that was even brighter than the one that lay ahead。 His knowledge of this other cataclysm； the one behind； had been a part of the business between himself and the assassin from the beginning。 It had flickered in their first exchanges on Fifth Avenue； it had lit the fury that had sent him to debate with the canvas； and it had burned brightest in his dreams； in that room he'd invented （or remembered） where he'd begged Pie for forgetfulness。 What had they experienced together that had been so terrible he'd wanted to forget his whole life rather than live with the fact？ Whatever it was； it was somehow echoed in this new calamity； and he wished to God he could have his forgetfulness undone and know what crime he'd mitted that brought upon innocents such punishment as this。
The encampment was an inferno； wind fanning flames that in turn inspired new wind； with flesh the toy of both。 He had only piss and spittle against this conflagration… useless！…but he ran on towards it anyway； his eyes streaming as the smoke bit at them； not knowing what hope of survival he had； only certain that Pie was somewhere in this firestorm and to lose him now would be tantamount to losing himself。
There were some escapees； a pitiful few。 He ran past them towards the gap in the fence through which they'd escaped。 His route was by turns clear and confounded； as the wind brought choking smoke in his direction； then carried it away again。 He pulled off his leather jacket and threw it over his head as primitive protection against the heat； then ducked through the fence。 There was solid flame in front of him； making the way forward impassable。 He tried to his left and found a gap between two blazing vehicles。 Dodging between them； the smell of singeing leather already sharp in his nostrils； he found himself in the middle of the pound； a space relatively free of bustible material； and thus of fire。 But on every side； the flames had hold。 Only three of the trailers weren't blazing； and the veering wind would soon carry the flame in their direction。 How many of the inhabitants had fled before the flames took hold he couldn't know； but it was certain there'd be no further escapees。 The heat was nearly unbearable。 It beat upon him from every side； cooking his thoughts to incoherence。 But he held on to the image of the creature he'd e to find； determined not to desert the pyre until he had that face in his hands or knew beyond doubt it was ash。
A dog appeared from the smoke； barking hysterically。
As it ran past him a fresh eruption of fire drove it back the way it had e； its panic escalating。 Having no better route； he chased its tail through the chaos； calling Pie's name as he ran； though each breath he took was hotter than the last； and after a few such shouts the name was a rasp。 He'd lost the dog in the smoke； and all sense of direction at the same time。 Even if the way was still clear he no longer knew where it lay。 The world was fire on every side。
Somewhere up ahead he heard the dog again； and thinking now that maybe the only life he'd claim from this horror was the hound's； he ran in search of it。 Tears were pouring from his smoke…stung eyes； he could barely focus on the ground he was stumbling across。 The barking stopped again； leaving him without a beacon。 There was no way to go but forward； hoping the silence didn't mean the dog had succumbed。 It hadn't。 He spot
