jdavid.footprintsofthunder-第2部分

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or　his　systems　management　class；　and　the　pile　sticking　out　from　under　the　bed　contained　last　year's　work。　There　was　another　year's　worth　of　work　deeper　under　the　bed。　More　books　and　papers　were　piled　on　the　closet　floor；　with　a　seldom…used　typewriter。
　The　puter　on　Kenny's　desk　was　surrounded　by　its　own　peculiar　debris…boxes　of　discs；　disc　holders；　a　mouse　and　mouse　pad；　a　printer；　and　stacks　of　puter　paper。　Next　to　the　puter　was　a　pile　of　newspaper　clippings。　On　the　shelf　above　the　puter　was　a　rack　of　books　with　titles　like　Stranger　Than　Fiction；　Strange　Facts；　and　The　Unexplainable。　At　the　end　of　the　shelf　was　a　jar　of　dried　corn。
　There　wasn't　anything　Kenny　particularly　valued　in　the　room；　but　he　felt　a　sense　of　loss　anyway；　knowing　he　would　not　see　any　of　it　again。　He　checked　his　pack　one　more　time；　to　make　sure　the　gun　didn't　show；　and　then　he　closed　and　locked　the　door。
　The　dorm　hall　was　quiet；　and　all　the　doors　were　shut。　The　last　of　the　late…nighters　had　drifted　off　to　bed　about　half　an　hour　ago。　On　this　Saturday　morning　no　one　was　likely　to　stir　until　nine　or　ten。　It　was　better　this　way；　Kenny　knew。　He　was　weary　of　talking　to　people　who　were　deaf　to　what　he　had　to　say；　though　it　was　unlikely　anyone　would　talk　to　him　now　anyway。　He　had　bee　genuinely　unpopular　in　the　last　few　months。　Ever　since　his　discovery　he　had　tried　to　tell　them；　to　show　them；　but　they　treated　him　as　a　joke。　For　their　sake　he　hoped　they　were　right；　but　for　his　sake　he　was　going　to　do　something　about　it。
　An　empty　elevator　was　waiting　for　him；　and　he　left　the　building　without　looking　back…even　though　the　dorm　had　been　his　home　for　the　last　three　years　he　had　always　disliked　it。　Even　the　name　of　the　dorm　was　ridiculous：　Residence　Hall。　One　night　after　a　few　too　many　beers；　he；　Jack；　and　Robbie　had　printed　out　official…looking　signs　on　Kenny's　puter　and　posted　them　around　the　building。　RESIDENCE　HALL　FLOOR；　one　said；　RESIDENCE　HALL　HALL；　another　said。　Even　RESIDENCE　HALL　WALL；　and　RESIDENCE　HALL　TOILET。　It　was　the　kind　of　thing　that　was　funny　when　you're　drunk　but　seemed　dumb　the　next　morning。　Still；　none　of　the　other　residents　tore　the　signs　down　for　months。
　He　found　his　dark　blue　Toyota　in　the　parking　lot。　The　odometer　had　twenty…eight　thousand　miles　on　it；　but　it　had　rolled　over　two　years　ago。　The　upholstery　was　shot；　and　the　passenger　win'　dow　was　stuck　closed；　but　the　car　would　not　quit。　He　was　briefly　apprehensive…in　all　his　careful　planning　he　had　never　considered　the　possibility　that　his　ten…year…old　Toyota　might　be　the　weak　link；　trapping　him　with　the　unbelievers。　Now　he　pumped　it　twice；　relieved　when　as　usual　it　started　the　second　time。
　As　he　was　pulling　out　of　the　parking　slot；　he　noticed　a　yellow　bumper　sticker　on　the　Escort　parked　next　to　him。　Written　in　calligraphy；　it　read　simply　Shit　Happens。　Kenny　forced　a　nervous　laugh。　〃You　got　that　right；〃　he　said　out　loud。　〃You　sure　got　that　right。〃　Then　Kenny　left　the　parking　lot　for　the　last　time。
　When　he　reached　Dr。　Piltcher's　house；　Phat；　Colter；　and　Petra　were　already　there；　packing　the　RV　and　the　van　for　their　trip。　Kenny　found　Dr。　Piltcher　and　Dr。　Coombs　staring　at　a　puter　screen。　Kenny　could　see　the　simulation　he　and　Phat　had　developed　running　on　the　screen。　A　well…worn　copy　of　an　ancient　manuscript　lay　open　next　to　the　puter。　It　made　an　odd　sight；　the　ancient　and　the　modern　sitting　side　by　side。　The　two　scientists　looked　up　when　Kenny　came　into　the　study。　There　were　dark　bags　under　their　eyes。
　〃Have　you　been　running　the　simulation　all　night？〃　he　asked。
　〃Yes；〃　Dr。　Piltcher　said。　〃Dr。　Coombs　and　I　fed　in　more　of　the　Zorastrus　data。　It　didn't　make　any　difference。　It's　going　to　happen。〃
　〃I　know；〃　Kenny　said。
　There　was　nothing　more　to　say；　so　Kenny　left　the　scientists　to　help　the　others。　While　they　were　packing；　Mrs。　Wayne　arrived　with　Ernie　Powell　in　Ernie's　pickup　truck；　its　bed　loaded　with　more　supplies。　Dr。　Piltcher　had　advised　them　all　to　prepare　for　the　worst。
　When　everything　was　packed　it　came　time　for　good…byes。　Dr。　Coombs　shook　Kenny's　hand　without　a　word；　but　Kenny　knew　Dr。　Piltcher　would　have　something　to　say。
　〃Won't　you　change　your　mind；　Kenny？〃　Dr。　Piltcher　asked。　〃e　with　us。　We　should　be　together　when　it　happens。　I　think　you　need　to　be　with　the　group。〃
　Kenny　knew　Dr。　Piltcher's　concern　was　genuine。　Kenny　had　bee　introspective　as　the　summer　wore　on。　By　the　season's　end　he　rarely　participated　in　the　group　discussions；　and　even　Phat　couldn't　draw　him　out。　Kenny　had　tried　to　stay　engaged　but　wasn't　like　the　others。　He　couldn't　partmentalize　his　life；　set　aside　his　fears　and　live　normally。　In　fact；　now　his　fears　were　his　life。　He　needed　family；　not　friends。　He　didn't　understand　why；　so　he　said　simply；　〃I　need　to　be　with　my　family。〃
　〃So　you're　going　to　go　through　with　it？〃　Dr。　Piltcher　asked；　not　expecting　an　answer。　〃Take　this　with　you；　I　copied　some　of　the　Apocrypha　of　Zorastrus　for　you。　It　might　help。〃
　Kenny　took　the　sheaf　of　papers　from　his　friend　and　mentor　and　placed　them　next　to　his　backpack。
　〃Be　careful；　Kenny。　We'll　look　for　you　after　it　happens。　。　。　if　we　can。〃
　〃Thanks。　The　group　meant　a　lot　to　me。〃　Kenny's　voice　cracked；　so　he　immediately　lowered　his　head；　holding　back　the　rest　of　what　he　had　planned　to　say。　Instead　he　and　Dr。　Piltcher　stared　at　their　shoes　for　a　full　minute　and　then　Kenny　managed　to　steady　his　voice　long　enough　to　tell　them；　〃I'm　going　now。〃
　Dr。　Piltcher　nodded　and　then　shook　Kenny's　hand；　as　did　everyone　in　the　group　except　Mrs。　Wayne；　who　knocked　his　hand　away　and　wrapped　her　arms　around　him。　When　she　finally　released　him　he　saw　tears　in　her　eyes。　Turning　away　quickly　to　hide　the　moisture　in　his　own；　he　climbed　into　his　battered　Toyota。　He　backed　slowly　down　the　driveway；　knowing　he　probably　wouldn't　see　any　of　them　again。　They　were　all　still　waving　good…bye　when　he　turned　onto　the　main　road　and　drove　out　of　sight。
　
　2。　　THE　ENTREPRENEUR
　
　Until　meteorites　fell　in　1803；　scientists　were　certain　that　reports　of　stones　falling　from　the　sky　were　legends。　It　makes　one　wonder　what　other　mysteries　should　be　revisited。
　…E。Suzuki；　Belief　and　Behavior
　
　Naples；　Florida
　PREQUILT：　SATURDAY；　9：03　A。M。　EST
　
　　The　Entrepreneur　was　a　thirty…five…foot　fiberglass　deep…water　sailboat；　rigged　for　the　open　sea。　The　original　production　hull　had　been　modified　with　a　three…foot　cabin　extension；　bowsprit　and　pulpit；　and　webbing　of　double　lifelines。　The　mast　was　forty…five　feet　of　extruded　aluminum　supported　by　one…quarter…inch　stainless　steel　shrouds。　A　gleaming　white；　slim　hulled　beauty　with　a　fin　keel；　the　Entrepreneur　was　everything　Ron　Tubman　always　wanted　in　a　yacht；　and　more；　and　it　was　finally　his。
　Carmen　and　her　daughter　were　aboard；　stowing　gear　for　the　voyage。　Ron　still　thought　of　Rosa　as　Carmen's　daughter；　though　they　had　been　a　blended　family；　or　at　least　mixed；　for　eighteen　months　now。　Everyone　was　consciously　trying　to　blend；　and　Chris　had　surprised　him；　warming　up　to　Carmen　as　quickly　as　Ron　had。　He　remembered　joking　with　Carmen　about　her　close　relationship　with　her　new　son；　suggesting　a　reconsideration　of　Freud's　theory　about　Oedipal　conflicts。
　Rosa　was　a　different　story；　however；　with　no　sign　of　an　Electra　plex　toward　Ron。　She　was　cordial　with　her　new　brother　Chris；　even　affectionate　at　times。　Brother　and　sister　roles　were　new　to　both　of　them；　and　they　had　quickly　formed　a　bond。　Even　before　the　marriage；　Rosa　had　gone　out　of　her　way　to　do　things　with　Chris…just　as　she　went　out　of　her　way　to　avoid　Ron。　Maybe；　Ron　thought；　it　was　the　age　difference　between　Rosa　and　Chris　that　made　it　easy　for　them　to　be　friends。　Rosa　was　six　years　older　than　Chris；　and　they　had　different　interests　and　roles　in　the　family。　The　spliced　siblings　had　never　peted　for　affection　from　their　parents。　But　Rosa　remained　deliberately　distant；　cool　and　aloof　to　Ron。　She　visited　her　father　every　other　weekend　and　made　it　clear　she　didn't　need　another。　Ron　didn't　know　if　Rosa　had　harbored　fantasies　about　her　parents　reuniting　after　their　divorce；　but　Carmen's　remarriage　would　have　abruptly　ended　such　a　dream。
　Still；　Rosa　had　shown　feint　glimmerings　of　interest　in　the　sailboat；　and　that　tiny　spark　was　more　than　Ron　h