sk.everythingseventual-第12部分

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　　He　leaned　forward　toward　me　with　his　nose　stuck　out；　like　someone　who　means　to　smell　a　flower。　And　I　noticed　an　awful　thing；　as　the　shadow　of　his　head　travelled　over　the　bank；　the　grass　beneath　it　turned　yellow　and　died。　He　lowered　his　head　toward　my　pants　and　sniffed。　His　glaring　eyes　half…closed；　as　if　he　had　inhaled　some　sublime　aroma　and　wanted　to　concentrate　on　nothing　but　that。
　　'Oh；　bad！'　he　cried。　'Lovely…bad！'　And　then　he　chanted：　'Opal！　Diamond！　Sapphire！　Jade！　I　smell　Gary's　lemonade！'　Then　he　threw　himself　on　his　back　in　the　little　flat　place　and　laughed　wildly。　It　was　the　sound　of　a　lunatic。
　　I　thought　about　running；　but　my　legs　seemed　two　counties　away　from　my　brain。　I　wasn't　crying；　though；　I　had　wet　my　pants　like　a　baby；　but　I　wasn't　crying。　I　was　too　scared　to　cry。　I　suddenly　knew　that　I　was　going　to　die；　and　probably　painfully；　but　the　worst　of　it　was　that　that　might　not　be　the　worst　of　it。
　　The　worst　of　it　might　e　later。　After　I　was　dead。
　　He　sat　up　suddenly；　the　smell　of　burnt　matches　fluffing　out　from　his　suit　and　making　me　feel　all　gaggy　in　my　throat。　He　looked　at　me　solemnly　from　his　narrow　white　face　and　burning　eyes；　but　there　was　a　sense　of　laughter　about　him；　too。　There　was　always　that　sense　of　laughter　about　him。
　　'Sad　news；　fisherboy；'　he　said。　'I've　e　with　sad　news。'
　　I　could　only　look　at　him…the　black　suit；　the　fine　black　shoes；　the　long　white　fingers　that　ended　not　in　nails　but　in　talons。
　　'Your　mother　is　dead。'
　　'No！'　I　cried。　I　thought　of　her　making　bread；　of　the　curl　lying　across　her　forehead　and　just　touching　her　eyebrow；　standing　there　in　the　strong　morning　sunlight；　and　the　terror　swept　over　me　again　。　。　。　but　not　for　myself　this　time。　Then　I　thought　of　how　she'd　looked　when　I　set　off　with　my　fishing　pole；　standing　in　the　kitchen　doorway　with　her　hand　shading　her　eyes；　and　how　she　had　looked　to　me　in　that　moment　like　a　photograph　of　someone　you　expected　to　see　again　but　never　did。　'No；　you　lie！'　I　screamed。
　　He　smiled…the　sadly　patient　smile　of　a　man　who　has　often　been　accused　falsely。　'I'm　afraid　not；'　he　said。　'It　was　the　same　thing　that　happened　to　your　brother；　Gary。　It　was　a　bee。'
　　'No；　that's　not　true；'　I　said；　and　now　I　did　begin　to　cry。　'She's　old；　she's　thirty…five；　if　a　bee…sting　could　kill　her　the　way　it　did　Danny　she　would　have　died　a　long　time　ago　and　you're　a　lying　bastard！'
　　I　had　called　the　Devil　a　lying　bastard。　On　some　level　I　was　aware　of　this；　but　the　entire　front　of　my　mind　was　taken　up　by　the　enormity　of　what　he'd　said。　My　mother　dead？　He　might　as　well　have　told　me　that　there　was　a　new　ocean　where　the　Rockies　had　been。　But　I　believed　him。　On　some　level　I　believed　him　pletely；　as　we　always　believe；　on　some　level；　the　worst　thing　our　hearts　can　imagine。
　　'I　understand　your　grief；　little　fisherboy；　but　that　particular　argument　just　doesn't　hold　water；　I'm　afraid。'　He　spoke　in　a　tone　of　bogus　fort　that　was　horrible；　maddening；　without　remorse　or　pity。　'A　man　can　go　his　whole　life　without　seeing　a　mockingbird；　you　know；　but　does　that　mean　mockingbirds　don't　exist？　Your　mother…'
　　A　fish　jumped　below　us。　The　man　in　the　black　suit　frowned；　then　pointed　a　finger　at　it。　The　trout　convulsed　in　the　air；　its　body　bending　so　strenuously　that　for　a　split…second　it　appeared　to　be　snapping　at　its　own　tail；　and　when　it　fell　back　into　Castle　Stream　it　was　floating　lifelessly；　dead。　It　struck　the　big　gray　rock　where　the　waters　divided；　spun　around　twice　in　the　whirlpool　eddy　that　formed　there；　and　then　floated　off　in　the　direction　of　Castle　Rock。　Meanwhile；　the　terrible　stranger　turned　his　burning　eyes　on　me　again；　his　thin　lips　pulled　back　from　tiny　rows　of　sharp　teeth　in　a　cannibal　smile。
　　'Your　mother　simply　went　through　her　entire　life　without　being　stung　by　a　bee；'　he　said。　'But　then…less　than　an　hour　ago；　actually…one　flew　in　through　the　kitchen　window　while　she　was　taking　the　bread　out　of　the　oven　and　putting　it　on　the　counter　to　cool。'
　　'No；　I　won't　hear　this；　I　won't　hear　this；　I　won't！'
　　I　raised　my　hands　and　clapped　them　over　my　ears。　He　pursed　his　lips　as　if　to　whistle　and　blew　at　me　gently。　It　was　only　a　little　breath；　but　the　stench　was　foul　beyond　belief…clogged　sewers；　outhouses　that　have　never　known　a　single　sprinkle　of　lime；　dead　chickens　after　a　flood。
　　My　hands　fell　away　from　the　sides　of　my　face。
　　'Good；'　he　said。　'You　need　to　hear　this；　Gary；　you　need　to　hear　this；　my　little　fisherboy。　It　was　your　mother　who　passed　that　fatal　weakness　on　to　your　brother　Dan；　you　got　some　of　it；　but　you　also　got　a　protection　from　your　father　that　poor　Dan　somehow　missed。'　He　pursed　his　lips　again；　only　this　time；　he　made　a　cruelly　ic　little　tsk…tsk　sound　instead　of　blowing　his　nasty　breath　at　me。　'So；　although　I　don't　like　to　speak　ill　of　the　dead；　it's　almost　a　case　of　poetic　justice；　isn't　it？　After　all；　she　killed　your　brother　Dan　as　surely　as　if　she　had　put　a　gun　to　his　head　and　pulled　the　trigger。'
　　'No；'　I　whispered。　'No；　it　isn't　true。'
　　'I　assure　you　it　is；'　he　said。　'The　bee　flew　in　the　window　and　lit　on　her　neck。　She　slapped　at　it　before　she　even　knew　what　she　was　doing…you　were　wiser　than　that；　weren't　you；　Gary？…and　the　bee　stung　her。　She　felt　her　throat　start　to　close　up　at　once。　That's　what　happens；　you　know；　to　people　who　are　allergic　to　bee…venom。　Their　throats　close　and　they　drown　in　the　open　air。　That's　why　Dan's　face　was　so　swollen　and　purple。　That's　why　your　father　covered　it　with　his　shirt。'
　　I　stared　at　him；　now　incapable　of　speech。　Tears　streamed　down　my　cheeks。　I　didn't　want　to　believe　him；　and　knew　from　my　church　schooling　that　the　devil　is　the　father　of　lies；　but　I　did　believe　him；　just　the　same。　I　believed　he　had　been　standing　there　in　our　dooryard；　looking　in　the　kitchen　window；　as　my　mother　fell　to　her　knees；　clutching　at　her　swollen　throat　while　Candy　Bill　danced　around　her；　barking　shrilly。
　　'She　made　the　most　wonderfully　awful　noises；'　the　man　in　the　black　suit　said　reflectively；　'and　she　scratched　her　face　quite　badly；　I'm　afraid。　Her　eyes　bulged　out　like　a　frog's　eyes。　She　wept。'　He　paused；　then　added：　'She　wept　as　she　died；　isn't　that　sweet？　And　here's　the　most　beautiful　thing　of　all。　After　she　was　dead　。　。　。　after　she　had　been　lying　on　the　floor　for　fifteen　minutes　or　so　with　no　sound　but　the　stove　ticking　and　with　that　little　stick　of　a　bee…stinger　still　poking　out　of　the　side　of　her　neck…so　small；　so　small…do　you　know　what　Candy　Bill　did？　That　little　rascal　licked　away　her　tears。　First　on　one　side　。　。　。　and　then　on　the　other。'
　　He　looked　out　at　the　stream　for　a　moment；　his　face　sad　and　thoughtful。　Then　he　turned　back　to　me　and　his　expression　of　bereavement　disappeared　like　a　dream。　His　face　was　as　slack　and　avid　as　the　face　of　a　corpse　that　has　died　hungry。　His　eyes　blazed。　I　could　see　his　sharp　little　teeth　between　his　pale　lips。
　　'I'm　starving；'　he　said　abruptly。　'I'm　going　to　kill　you　and　tear　you　open　and　eat　your　guts；　little　fisherboy。　What　do　you　think　about　that？'
　　No；　I　tried　to　say；　please；　no；　but　no　sound　came　out。　He　meant　to　do　it；　I　saw。　He　really　meant　to　do　it。
　　'I'm　just　so　hungry；'　he　said；　both　petulant　and　teasing。　'And　you　won't　want　to　live　without　your　precious　mommy；　anyhow；　take　my　word　for　it。　Because　your　father's　the　sort　of　man　who'll　have　to　have　some　warm　hole　to　stick　it　in；　believe　me；　and　if　you're　the　only　one　available；　you're　the　one　who'll　have　to　serve。　I'll　save　you　all　that　disfort　and　unpleasantness。　Also；　you'll　go　to　Heaven；　think　of　that。　Murdered　souls　always　go　to　Heaven。　So　we'll　both　be　serving　God　this　afternoon；　Gary。　Isn't　that　nice？'
　　He　reached　for　me　again　with　his　long；　pale　hands；　and　without　thinking　what　I　was　doing；　I　flipped　open　the　top　of　my　creel；　pawed　all　the　way　down　to　the　bottom；　and　brought　out　the　monster　brookie　I'd　caught　earlier…the　one　I　should　have　been　satisfied　with。　I　held　it　out　to　him　blindly；　my　fingers　in　the　red　slit　of　its　belly　from　which　I　had　removed　its　insides　as　the　man　in　the　black　suit　had　threatened　to　remove　mine。　The　fish's　glazed　eye　stared　dreamily　at　me；　the　gold　ring　around　the　black　center　reminding　me　of　my　mother's　wedding　ring。　And　in　that　m