sk.everythingseventual-第25部分

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　　'Have　you　gone　cuckoo？'　Dock　asks　her。　'It's　one　o'clock　in　the　morning；　and　you're　in　blood　right　up　to　the　elbows。'
　　'I　don't　care　what　time　it　is；　and　blood　washes　off；'　she　says。　'I'm　making　you　boys　the　biggest　breakfast　you　ever　ate…eggs；　bacon；　biscuits；　gravy；　hash　browns。'
　　'I　love　you；　marry　me；'　Johnnie　says；　and　we　all　laughed。
　　'Oh；　hell；'　Buster　says。　'If　there's　breakfast；　I'll　hang　around。'
　　Which　is　how　we　all　wound　up　staying　put　in　that　Aurora　farmhouse；　ready　to　die　for　a　man　who　was　already…whether　Johnnie　liked　it　or　not…on　his　way　out。　We　barricaded　the　front　door　with　a　sofa　and　some　chairs；　and　the　back　door　with　the　gas　stove；　which　didn't　work　anyway。　Only　the　woodstove　worked。　Me　and　Johnnie　got　our　tommy　guns　from　the　Ford；　and　Dock　got　some　more　from　the　attic。　Also　a　crate　of　grenades；　a　mortar；　and　a　crate　of　mortar　shells。　I　bet　the　Army　didn't　have　as　much　stuff　in　those　parts　as　we　did。　Ha…ha！
　　'Well；　I　don't　care　how　many　of　them　we　get；　as　long　as　that　son　of　a　bitch　Melvin　Purvis　is　one　of　them；'　Dock　says。　By　the　time　Rabbits　actually　got　the　grub　on　the　table；　it　was　almost　the　time　farmers　eat。　We　took　it　in　shifts；　two　men　always　watching　the　long　driveway。　Buster　raised　the　alarm　once　and　we　all　rushed　to　our　places；　but　it　was　only　a　milk　truck　on　the　main　road。　The　Gees　never　came。　You　could　call　that　bad　info；　I　called　it　more　of　John　Dillinger's　luck。
　　Jack；　meanwhile；　was　on　his　not…so…merry　way　from　bad　to　worse。　By　midafternoon　of　the　next　day；　even　Johnnie　must　have　seen　he　couldn't　go　on　much　longer；　although　he　wouldn't　e　right　out　and　say　so。　It　was　the　woman　I　felt　bad　for。　Rabbits　seen　new　pus　oozing　out　between　those　big　black　stitches　of　hers；　and　she　started　crying。　She　just　cried　and　cried。　It　was　like　she'd　known　Jack　Hamilton　her　whole　life。
　　'Never　mind；'　Johnnie　said。　'Chin　up；　beautiful。　You　did　the　best　you　could。　Besides；　he　might　still　e　around。'
　　'It's　cause　I　took　the　bullet　out　with　my　fingers；'　she　says。　'I　never　should　have　done　that。　I　knew　better。'
　　'No；'　I　says；　'it　wasn't　that。　It　was　the　gangrene。　The　gangrene　was　already　in　there。'
　　'Bullshit；'　Johnnie　said；　and　looked　at　me　hard。　'An　infection；　maybe；　but　no　gangrene。　There　isn't　any　gangrene　now。'
　　You　could　smell　it　in　the　pus。　There　wasn't　nothing　to　say。
　　Johnnie　was　still　looking　at　me。　'Remember　what　Harry　used　to　call　you　when　we　were　in　Pendleton？'
　　I　nodded。　Harry　Pierpont　and　Johnnie　were　always　the　best　of　friends；　but　Harry　never　liked　me。　If　not　for　Johnnie；　he　never　would've　taken　me　into　the　gang；　which　was　the　Pierpont　Gang　to　begin　with；　remember。　Harry　thought　I　was　a　fool。　That　was　another　thing　Johnnie　would　never　admit；　or　even　talk　about。　Johnnie　wanted　everyone　to　be　friends。
　　'I　want　you　to　go　out　and　wrangle　up　some　big　uns；'　Johnnie　says；　'just　like　you　used　to　when　you　was　on　the　Pendleton　mat。　Some　big　old　buzzers。'　When　he　asked　for　that；　I　knew　he　finally　understood　Jack　was　finished。
　　Fly…Boy　was　what　Harry　Pierpont　used　to　call　me　at　Pendleton　Reformatory；　when　we　were　all　just　kids　and　I　used　to　cry　myself　to　sleep　with　my　head　under　my　pillow　so　the　screws　wouldn't　hear。　Well；　Harry　went　on　and　rode　the　lightning　in　Ohio　State；　so　maybe　I　wasn't　the　only　fool。
　　Rabbits　was　in　the　kitchen；　cutting　up　vegetables　for　supper。　Something　was　simmering　on　the　stove。　I　asked　her　if　she　had　thread；　and　she　said　I　knew　goddam　well　she　did；　hadn't　I　been　right　beside　her　when　she　sewed　up　my　friend？　You　bet；　I　said；　but　that　was　black　and　I　wanted　white。　Half　a　dozen　pieces；　about　so　long。　And　I　held　out　my　index　fingers　maybe　eight　inches　apart。　She　wanted　to　know　what　I　was　going　to　do。　I　told　her　that　if　she　was　that　curious　she　could　watch　right　out　the　window　over　the　sink。
　　'Ain't　nothing　out　there　but　the　privy；'　she　says。　'I　got　no　interest　in　watching　you　do　your　personal　business；　Mr。　Van　Meter。'
　　She　had　a　bag　hanging　on　the　pantry　door；　and　she　rummaged　through　it　and　came　out　with　a　spool　of　white　thread　and　cut　me　off　six　pieces。　I　thanked　her　kindly　and　then　asked　if　she　had　a　Band…Aid。　She　took　some　out　of　the　drawer　right　beside　the　sink…because；　she　said；　she　was　always　cutting　her　fingers。　I　took　one；　then　went　to　the　door。
　　
　　I　got　in　Pendleton　for　robbing　wallets　off　the　New　York　Central　line　with　that　same　Charlie　Makley…small　world；　ain't　it？　Ha！　Anyhow；　when　it　e　to　ways　of　keeping　the　bad　boys　busy；　the　reformatory　at　Pendleton；　Indiana；　was　loaded。　They　had　a　laundry；　a　carpentry　shop；　and　a　clothes　factory　where　the　dubs　made　shirts　and　pants；　mostly　for　the　guards　in　the　Indiana　penal　system。　Some　called　it　the　shirt　shop；　some　called　it　the　shit　shop。　That's　what　I　drew…and　met　both　Johnnie　and　Harry　Pierpont。　Johnnie　and　Harry　never　had　any　problem　'making　the　day；'　but　I　was　always　ing　up　ten　shirts　short；　or　five　pairs　of　trousers　short；　and　being　made　to　stand　on　the　mat。　The　screws　thought　it　was　because　I　was　always　clowning　around。　Harry　thought　the　same　thing。　The　truth　was　that　I　was　slow；　and　clumsy…which　Johnnie　seemed　to　understand。　That　was　why　I　played　around。
　　If　you　didn't　make　your　day；　you　had　to　spend　the　next　day　in　the　guardhouse；　where　there　was　a　rush　mat；　about　two　feet　square。　You　had　to　take　off　everything　but　your　socks　and　then　stand　there　all　day。　If　you　stepped　off　the　mat　once；　you　got　your　ass　paddled。　If　you　stepped　off　twice；　a　screw　held　you　while　another　worked　you　over。　Step　off　a　third　time　and　it　was　a　week　in　solitary。　You　were　allowed　all　the　water　you　wanted　to　drink；　but　that　was　a　trick；　because　you　were　allowed　only　one　toilet　break　in　the　course　of　the　day。　If　you　were　caught　standing　there　with　piss　running　down　your　leg；　you　got　a　beating　and　a　trip　to　the　hole。
　　It　was　boring。　Boring　at　Pendleton；　boring　at　Michigan　City；　I…God's　prison　for　big　boys。　Some　fellows　told　themselves　stories。　Some　fellows　sang。　Some　made　lists　of　all　the　women　they　were　going　to　screw　when　they　got　out。
　　Me；　I　taught　myself　to　rope　flies。
　　
　　A　privy's　a　damned　fine　place　for　fly…roping。　I　took　up　my　station　outside　the　door；　then　proceeded　to　make　loops　in　the　pieces　of　thread　Rabbits　had　given　me。　After　that；　there　was　nothing　to　it　except　not　moving　much。　Those　were　the　skills　I'd　learned　on　the　mat。　You　don't　forget　them。
　　It　didn't　take　long。　Flies　are　out　in　early　May；　but　they're　slow　flies。　And　anyone　who　thinks　it's　impossible　to　lasso　a　horsefly　。　。　。　well；　all　I　can　say　is；　if　you　want　a　challenge；　try　mosquitoes。
　　I　took　three　casts　and　got　my　first　one。　That　was　nothing；　there　were　times　on　the　mat　when　I'd　spend　half　the　morning　before　I　got　my　first。　Right　after　I　snagged　him；　Rabbits　cried　out；　'What　in　God's　name　are　you　doing？　Is　it　magic？'
　　From　a　distance；　it　did　look　like　magic。　You　have　to　imagine　how　it　appeared　to　her；　twenty　yards　away：　man　standing　by　a　privy　throws　out　a　little　piece　of　thread…at　nothing；　so　far　as　you　can　see…but；　instead　of　drifting　to　the　ground；　the　thread　hangs　in　midair！　It　was　attached　to　a　good…sized　horsefly。　Johnnie　would　have　seen　it；　but　Rabbits　didn't　have　Johnnie's　eyes。
　　I　got　the　end　of　the　thread　and　taped　it　to　the　handle　of　the　privy　door　with　the　Band…Aid。　Then　I　went　after　the　next　one。　And　the　next。　Rabbits　came　out　to　get　a　closer　look；　and　I　told　her　that　she　could　stay　if　she　was　quiet；　and　she　tried；　but　she　wasn't　good　at　being　quiet　and　finally　I　had　to　tell　her　she　was　scaring　off　the　game　and　send　her　back　inside。
　　I　worked　the　privy　for　an　hour　and　a　half…long　enough　that　I　couldn't　smell　it　anymore。　Then　it　started　getting　cold；　and　my　flies　were　sluggish。　I'd　got　five。　By　Pendleton　standards；　that　was　quite　a　herd；　although　not　that　many　for　a　man　standing　next　to　a　shithouse。　Anyway；　I　had　to　get　inside　before　it　got　too　cold　for　them　to　stay　airborne。
　　When　I　came　walking　slowly　through　the　kitchen；　Dock；　Volney；　and　Rabbits　were　all　laughing　and　clapping。　Jack's　bedroom　was　on　the　other　side　of　the　house；　and　it　was　shadowy　and　dim。　That　was　why　I'd　asked　for　white　thread　instead　of　black。　I　looked　like　a　man　with　a　handful　o