sk.everythingseventual-第108部分

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d　person's　hand。
　　'I　dreamed　we　were　at　that　amusement　park　in　New　Hampshire；'　she　said。
　　I　looked　down　at　her；　feeling　my　skin　go　cold　all　over。　'Did　you？'
　　'Ayuh。　Waiting　in　line　for　the　one　that　goes　。　。　。　way　up　high。　Do　you　remember　that　one？'
　　'The　Bullet；'　I　said。　'I　remember　it；　Ma。'
　　'You　were　afraid　and　I　shouted。　Shouted　at　you。'
　　'No；　Ma；　you…'
　　Her　hand　squeezed　down　on　mine　and　the　corners　of　her　mouth　deepened　into　near…dimples。　It　was　a　ghost　of　her　old　impatient　expression。
　　'Yes；'　she　said。　'Shouted　and　swatted　you。　Back　。　。　。　of　the　neck；　wasn't　it？'
　　'Probably；　yeah；'　I　said；　giving　up。　'That's　mostly　where　you　gave　it　to　me。'
　　'Shouldn't　have；'　she　said。　'It　was　hot　and　I　was　tired；　but　still　。　。　。　shouldn't　have。　Wanted　to　tell　you　I　was　sorry。'
　　My　eyes　started　leaking　again。　'It's　all　right；　Ma。　That　was　a　long　time　ago。'
　　'You　never　got　your　ride；'　she　whispered。
　　'I　did；　though；'　I　said。　'In　the　end　I　did。'
　　She　smiled　up　at　me。　She　looked　small　and　weak；　miles　from　the　angry；　sweaty；　muscular　woman　who　had　yelled　at　me　when　we　finally　got　to　the　head　of　the　line；　yelled　and　then　whacked　me　across　the　nape　of　the　neck。　She　must　have　seen　something　on　someone's　face…one　of　the　other　people　waiting　to　ride　the　Bullet…because　I　remember　her　saying　What　are　you　looking　at；　beautiful？　as　she　led　me　away　by　the　hand；　me　snivelling　under　the　hot　summer　sun；　rubbing　the　back　of　my　neck　。　。　。　only　it　didn't　really　hurt；　she　hadn't　swatted　me　that　hard；　mostly　what　I　remember　was　being　grateful　to　get　away　from　that　high；　twirling　construction　with　the　capsules　at　either　end；　that　revolving　scream　machine。
　　'Mr。　Parker；　it　really　is　time　to　go；'　the　nurse　said。
　　I　raised　my　mother's　hand　and　kissed　the　knuckles。　'I'll　see　you　tomorrow；'　I　said。　'I　love　you；　Ma。'
　　'Love　you；　too。　Alan　。　。　。　sorry　for　all　the　times　I　swatted　you。　That　was　no　way　to　be。'
　　But　it　had　been；　it　had　been　her　way　to　be。　I　didn't　know　how　to　tell　her　I　knew　that；　accepted　it。　It　was　part　of　our　family　secret；　something　whispered　along　the　nerve…endings。
　　'I'll　see　you　tomorrow；　Ma。　Okay？'
　　She　didn't　answer。　Her　eyes　had　rolled　shut　again；　and　this　time　the　lids　didn't　e　back　up。　Her　chest　rose　and　fell　slowly　and　regularly。　I　backed　away　from　the　bed；　never　taking　my　eyes　off　her。
　　In　the　hall　I　said　to　the　nurse；　'Is　she　going　to　be　all　right？　Really　all　right？'
　　'No　one　can　say　that　for　sure；　Mr。　Parker。　She's　Dr。　Nunnally's　patient。　He's　very　good。　He'll　be　on　the　floor　tomorrow　afternoon　and　you　can　ask　him…'
　　'Tell　me　what　you　think。'
　　'I　think　she's　going　to　be　fine；'　the　nurse　said；　leading　me　back　down　the　hall　toward　the　elevator　lobby。　'Her　vital　signs　are　strong；　and　all　the　residual　effects　suggest　a　very　light　stroke。'　She　frowned　a　little。　'She's　going　to　have　to　make　some　changes；　of　course。　In　her　diet　。　。　。　her　lifestyle　。　。　。'
　　'Her　smoking；　you　mean。'
　　'Oh　yes。　That　has　to　go。'　She　said　it　as　if　my　mother　quitting　her　lifetime　habit　would　be　no　more　difficult　than　moving　a　vase　from　a　table　in　the　living　room　to　one　in　the　hall。　I　pushed　the　button　for　the　elevators；　and　the　door　of　the　car　I'd　ridden　up　in　opened　at　once。　Things　clearly　slowed　down　a　lot　at　CMMC　once　visiting　hours　were　over。
　　'Thanks　for　everything；'　I　said。
　　'Not　at　all。　I'm　sorry　I　scared　you。　What　I　said　was　incredibly　stupid。'
　　'Not　at　all；'　I　said；　although　I　agreed　with　her。　'Don't　mention　it。'
　　I　got　into　the　elevator　and　pushed　for　the　lobby。　The　nurse　raised　her　hand　and　twiddled　her　fingers。　I　twiddled　my　own　in　return；　and　then　the　door　slid　between　us。　The　car　started　down。　I　looked　at　the　fingernail　marks　on　the　backs　of　my　hands　and　thought　that　I　was　an　awful　creature；　the　lowest　of　the　low。　Even　if　it　had　only　been　a　dream；　I　was　the　lowest　of　the　goddam　low。　Take　her；　I'd　said。　She　was　my　mother　but　I　had　said　it　just　the　same：　Take　my　Ma；　don't　take　me。　She　had　raised　me；　worked　overtime　for　me；　waited　in　line　with　me　under　the　hot　summer　sun　in　a　dusty　little　New　Hampshire　amusement　park；　and　in　the　end　I　had　hardly　hesitated。　Take　her；　don't　take　me。　Chickenshit；　chickenshit；　you　fucking　chickenshit。
　　When　the　elevator　door　opened　I　stepped　out；　took　the　lid　off　the　litter…basket；　and　there　it　was；　lying　in　someone's　almost…empty　paper　coffee　cup：　I　RODE　THE　BULLET　AT　THRILL　VILLAGE；　LACONIA。
　　I　bent；　plucked　the　button　out　of　the　cold　puddle　of　coffee　it　was　lying　in；　wiped　it　on　my　jeans；　put　it　in　my　pocket。　Throwing　it　away　had　been　the　wrong　idea。　It　was　my　button　now…good…luck　charm　or　bad…luck　charm；　it　was　mine。　I　left　the　hospital；　giving　Yvonne　a　little　wave　on　my　way　by。　Outside；　the　moon　rode　the　roof　of　the　sky；　flooding　the　world　with　its　strange　and　perfectly　dreamy　light。　I　had　never　felt　so　tired　or　so　dispirited　in　my　whole　life。　I　wished　I　had　the　choice　to　make　again。　I　would　have　made　a　different　one。　Which　was　funny…if　I'd　found　her　dead；　as　I'd　expected　to；　I　think　I　could　have　lived　with　it。　After　all；　wasn't　that　the　way　stories　like　this　one　were　supposed　to　end？
　　
　　Nobody　wants　to　give　a　fella　a　ride　in　town；　the　old　man　with　the　truss　had　said；　and　how　true　that　was。　I　walked　all　the　way　across　Lewiston…three　dozen　blocks　of　Lisbon　Street　and　nine　blocks　of　Canal　Street；　past　all　the　bottle　clubs　with　the　jukeboxes　playing　old　songs　by　Foreigner　and　Led　Zeppelin　and　AC/DC　in　French…without　putting　my　thumb　out　a　single　time。　It　would　have　done　no　good。　It　was　well　past　eleven　before　I　reached　the　DeMuth　Bridge。　Once　I　was　on　the　Harlow　side；　the　first　car　I　raised　my　thumb　to　stopped。　Forty　minutes　later　I　was　fishing　the　key　out　from　under　the　red　wheelbarrow　by　the　door　to　the　back　shed；　and　ten　minutes　after　that　I　was　in　bed。　It　occurred　to　me　as　I　dropped　off　that　it　was　the　first　time　in　my　life　I'd　slept　in　that　house　all　by　myself。
　　
　　It　was　the　phone　that　woke　me　up　at　quarter　past　noon。　I　thought　it　would　be　the　hospital；　someone　from　the　hospital　saying　my　mother　had　taken　a　sudden　turn　for　the　worse　and　had　passed　away　only　a　few　minutes　ago；　so　sorry。　But　it　was　only　Mrs。　McCurdy；　wanting　to　be　sure　I'd　gotten　home　all　right；　wanting　to　know　all　the　details　of　my　visit　the　night　before　（she　took　me　through　it　three　times；　and　by　the　end　of　the　third　recitation　I　had　begun　to　feel　like　a　criminal　being　interrogated　on　a　murder　charge）；　also　wanting　to　know　if　I'd　like　to　ride　up　to　the　hospital　with　her　that　afternoon。　I　told　her　that　would　be　great。
　　When　I　hung　up；　I　crossed　the　room　to　the　bedroom　door。　Here　was　a　full…length　mirror。　In　it　was　a　tall；　unshaven　young　man　with　a　small　potbelly；　dressed　only　in　baggy　undershorts。　'You　have　to　get　it　together；　big　boy；'　I　told　my　reflection。　'Can't　go　through　the　rest　of　your　life　thinking　that　every　time　the　phone　rings　it's　someone　calling　to　tell　you　your　mother's　dead。'
　　Not　that　I　would。　Time　would　dull　the　memory；　time　always　did　。　。　。　but　it　was　amazing　how　real　and　immediate　the　night　before　still　seemed。　Every　edge　and　corner　was　sharp　and　clear。　I　could　still　see　Staub's　good…looking　young　face　beneath　his　turned…around　cap；　and　the　cigarette　behind　his　ear；　and　the　way　the　smoke　had　seeped　out　of　the　incision　on　his　neck　when　he　inhaled。　I　could　still　hear　him　telling　the　story　of　the　Cadillac　that　was　selling　cheap。　Time　would　blunt　the　edges　and　round　the　corners；　but　not　for　awhile。　After　all；　I　had　the　button；　it　was　on　the　dresser　by　the　bathroom　door。　The　button　was　my　souvenir。　Didn't　the　hero　of　every　ghost…story　e　away　with　a　souvenir；　something　that　proved　it　had　all　really　happened？
　　There　was　an　ancient　stereo　system　in　the　corner　of　the　room；　and　I　shuffled　through　my　old　tapes；　hunting　for　something　to　listen　to　while　I　shaved。　I　found　one　marked　FOLK　MIX　and　put　it　in　the　tape　player。　I'd　made　it　in　high　school　and　could　barely　remember　what　was　on　it。　Bob　Dylan　sang　about　the　lonesome　death　of　Hat…tie　Carroll；　Tom　Paxton　sang　about　his　own　ramblin'　pal；　and　then　Dave　Van　Ronk　started　to　sing　about　the　cocaine　blues。　Halfway　through　the　third　verse　I　paused　with　my　razo