ib.thewaspfactory-第14部分

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　the　same。　They　have　to　be　placed；　or　at　best　thrown；　at　the　target；　and　even　slinging　some　of　the　purpose…built　smaller　ones　is　inaccurate　and　slow。　I　can　imagine　some　unpleasant　things　happening　with　the　sling；　too；　the　sling…bombs　have　to　be　on　a　pretty　short　fuse　if　they're　to　detonate　soon　enough　after　they　land　not　to　be　throw…backable；　and　I've　had　a　couple　of　close　calls　already　when　they've　gone　off　just　after　they　left　the　sling。
　　
　　I've　experimented　with　guns；　of　course；　both　mere　projectile　weapons　and　mortars　which　would　lob　the　sling…bombs；　but　they　have　all　been　clumsy；　dangerous；　slow　and　rather　prone　to　blowing　up。
　　
　　A　shotgun　would　be　ideal；　though　I'd　settle　for　a　。22　rifle；　but　a　crossbow　will　just　have　to　do。　Perhaps　sometime　I'll　be　able　to　devise　a　way　round　my　official　non…existence　and　apply　for　a　gun　myself；　though　even　then；　all　things　considered；　I　might　not　be　granted　a　licence。　Oh；　to　be　in　America；　I　occasionally　think。
　　
　　I　was　logging　the　cache　petrol　bombs　which　hadn't　been　inspected　for　evaporation　recently　when　the　phone　went。　I　looked　at　my　watch；　surprised　at　the　lateness　of　the　hour：　nearly　eleven。　I　ran　downstairs　to　the　phone；　hearing　my　father　ing　to　the　door　of　his　room　as　I　passed　it。
　　
　　'Porteneil　531。'　Pips　sounded。
　　
　　'Fuck　it；　Frank；　I've　got　luna　maria　callouses　on　me　feet。　How　the　hell　are　ye；　me　young　bucko？'
　　
　　I　looked　at　the　handset；　then　up　at　my　father；　who　was　leaning　over　the　rail　from　the　floor　above；　tucking　his　pyjama　top　into　his　trousers。　I　spoke　into　the　phone：　'Hello　there；　Jamie；　what　are　you　doing　calling　me　this　late？'
　　
　　'Wha…？　Oh；　the　old　man's　there；　is　he？'　Eric　said。　'T…ell　him　he's　a　bag　of　effervescent　pus；　from　me。'
　　
　　'Jamie　sends　his　regards；'　I　called　up　to　my　father；　who　turned　without　a　word　and　went　back　to　his　room。　I　heard　the　door　close。　I　turned　back　to　the　phone。　'Eric；　where　are　you　this　time　？'
　　
　　'Ah；　shit；　I'm　not　telling　you。　Guess。'
　　
　　'Well；　I　don't　know。。。。　Glasgow？'
　　
　　'Ah　ha　ha　ha　ha　ha！'　Eric　cackled。　I　clenched　plastic。
　　
　　'How　are　you？　Are　you　all　right？'
　　
　　'I'm　fine。　How　are　you？'
　　
　　'Great。　Look；　how　are　you　eating？　Have　you　got　any　money？　Are　you　hitching　lifts　or　what？　They're　looking　for　you；　you　know；　but　there　hasn't　been　anything　on　the　news　yet。　You　haven't…'　I　stopped　before　I　said　something　he　might　take　exception　to。
　　
　　'I'm　doing　fine。　I　eat　dogs！　Heh　heh　heh！'
　　
　　I　groaned。　'Oh；　God；　you're　not　really；　are　you？'
　　
　　'What　else　can　I　eat？　It's　great；　Frankie　boy；　I'm　keeping　to　the　fields　and　the　woods　and　walking　a　lot　and　getting　lifts　and　when　I　get　near　a　town　I　look　for　a　good　fat　juicy　dog　and　I　make　friends　with　it　and　take　it　out　to　the　woods　and　then　I　kill　it　and　eat　it。　What　could　be　simpler？　I　do　love　the　outdoor　life。'
　　
　　'You　are　cooking　them；　aren't　you？'
　　
　　'Of　course　I'm　fucking　cooking　them；'　Eric　said　indignantly。　'What　do　you　think　I　am？'
　　
　　'Is　that　all　you're　eating？'
　　
　　'No。　I　steal　things。　Shoplift。　It's　so　easy。　I　steal　things　I　can't　eat；　just　for　the　hell　of　it。　Like　tampons　and　plastic　dustbin…liners　and　party…size　packets　of　crisps　and　one　hundred　cocktail　sticks　and　twelve　cake…candles　in　various　colours　and　photograph　frames　and　steering…wheel　covers　in　simulated　leather　and　towel…holders　and　fabric…softeners　and　double…action　air…fresheners　to　waft　away　those　lingering　kitchen　smells　and　cute　little　boxes　for　awkward　odds　and　ends　and　packs　of　cassettes　and　lockable　petrol…caps　and　recordcleaners　and　telephone　indexes　slimming　magazines　potholders　packs　of　name…labels　artificial　eyelashes　make…up　boxes　anti…smoking　mixture　toy　watches…'
　　
　　'Don't　you　like　crisps？'　I　broke　in　quickly。
　　
　　'Eh？'　He　sounded　confused。
　　
　　'You　mentioned　party…size　packets　of　crisps　as　being　something　you　couldn't　eat。'
　　
　　'For　Christ's　sake；　Frank；　could　you　eat　a　party…size　packet　of　crisps？'
　　
　　'And　how　are　you　keeping？'　I　said　quickly。　'I　mean；　you　must　be　sleeping　rough。　Aren't　you　catching　cold　or　something？'
　　
　　'I'm　not　sleeping。'
　　
　　'You're　not　sleeping？'
　　
　　'Of　course　not。　You　don't　have　to　sleep。　That's　just　something　they　tell　you　to　keep　control　over　you。　Nobody　has　to　sleep；　you're　taught　to　sleep　when　you're　a　kid。　If　you're　really　determined；　you　can　get　over　it。　I've　got　over　the　need　to　sleep。　I　never　sleep　now。　That　way　it's　a　lot　easier　to　keep　watch　and　make　sure　they　don't　creep　up　on　you；　and　you　can　keep　going　as　well。　Nothing　like　keeping　going。　You　bee　like　a　ship。'
　　
　　'Like　a　ship？'　Now　I　was　confused。
　　
　　'Stop　repeating　everything　I　say；　Frank。'　I　heard　him　put　more　money　into　the　box。　'I'll　teach　you　how　not　to　sleep　when　I　get　back。'
　　
　　'Thanks。　When　do　you　expect　to　get　here？'
　　
　　'Sooner　or　later。　Ha　ha　ha　ha　ha！'
　　
　　'Look；　Eric；　why　are　you　eating　dogs　if　you　can　steal　all　that　stuff？'
　　
　　'I've　already　told　you；　you　idiot；　you　can't　eat　any　of　that　crap。'
　　
　　'But；　then；　why　not　steal　stuff　you　can　eat　and　don't　steal　the　stuff　you　can't　and　don't　bother　with　the　dogs？'　I　suggested。　I　already　knew　it　wasn't　a　good　idea；　I　could　hear　the　tone　of　my　voice　rising　higher　and　higher　as　I　spoke　the　sentence；　and　that　was　always　a　sign　I　was　getting　into　some　sort　of　verbal　mess。
　　
　　Eric　shouted：　'　Are　you　crazy？　What's　the　matter　with　you？　What's　the　point　of　that？　These　are　dogs；　aren't　they？　It　isn't　as　though　I　was　killing　cats　or　field　mice　or　goldfish　or　anything。　I'm　talking　about　dogs；　you　rabid　dingbat！　Dogs！'
　　
　　'You　don't　have　to　shout　at　me；'　I　said　evenly；　though　starting　to　get　angry　myself。　'I　was　only　asking　why　you　waste　so　much　time　stealing　stuff　you　can't　eat　and　then　waste　more　time　stealing　dogs　when　you　could　steal　and　eat　at　the　same　time；　as　it　were。'
　　
　　'〃As　it　were〃？　〃As　it　were〃？　What　the　hell　are　you　gibbering　about？'　Eric　yelled；　his　strangled　voice　hoarse　and　contralto。
　　
　　'Oh；　don't　start　screaming；'　I　moaned；　putting　my　other　hand　over　my　forehead　and　through　my　hair；　closing　my　eyes。
　　
　　'I'll　scream　if　I　want　to！'　Eric　screamed。　'What　do　you　think　I'm　doing　all　this　for？　Eh？　What　the　hell　do　you　think　I'm　doing　all　this　for　？　These　are　dogs；　you　brainless　little　shitbag！　Haven't　you　any　brains　left？　What's　happened　to　all　your　brains；　Frankie　boy？　Cat　got　your　tongue？　I　said；　Cat　got　your　tongue？'
　　
　　'Don't　start　banging　the…'　I　said；　not　really　into　the　mouthpiece。
　　
　　'Eeeeeeaaarrrggghhh　Bllleeeaarrrgggrrllleeeooouurrgghh！'；　Eric　spat　and　choked　down　the　line；　and　there　followed　the　noise　of　the　phone…box　handset　being　smashed　around　the　inside　of　the　booth。　I　sighed　and　replaced　the　receiver　thoughtfully。　I　just　didn't　seem　to　be　able　to　handle　Eric　on　the　telephone。
　　
　　I　went　back　to　my　room；　trying　to　forget　about　my　brother；　I　wanted　to　get　to　bed　early　so　that　I　could　be　up　in　time　for　the　naming　ceremony　of　the　new　catapult。　I'd　think　about　a　better　way　to　handle　Eric　once　I　had　that　out　of　the　way。
　　
　　。。。　Like　a　ship；　indeed。　What　a　loony。
　　
　　
　　　4：　The　Bomb　Circle
　　
　　
　　OFTEN　I've　thought　of　myself　as　a　state；　a　country　or；　at　the　very　least；　a　city。　It　used　to　seem　to　me　that　the　different　ways　I　felt　sometimes　about　ideas；　courses　of　action　and　so　on　were　like　the　differing　political　moods　that　countries　go　through。　It　has　always　seemed　to　me　that　people　vote　in　a　new　government　not　because　they　actually　agree　with　their　politics　but　just　because　they　want　a　change。　Somehow　they　think　that　things　will　be　better　under　the　new　lot。　Well；　people　are　stupid；　but　it　all　seems　to　have　more　to　do　with　mood；　caprice　and　atmosphere　than　carefully　thought…out　arguments。　I　can　feel　the　same　sort　of　thing　going　on　in　my　head。　Sometimes　the　thoughts　and　feelings　I　had　didn't　really　agree　with　each　other；　so　I　decided　I　must　be　lots　of　different　people　inside　my　brain。
　　
　　For　example；　there　has　always　been　a　part　of　me　which　has　felt　guilty　about　killing　Blyth；　Paul　and　Esmerelda。