ib.thewaspfactory-第23部分

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　and　generally　tried　to　psyche　myself　up　into　something　that　might　look　like　a　terrible　state　for　a　wee　boy　to　be　in。　I　was　still　sitting　there　in　the　early　evening；　staring　out　to　sea　when　a　young　forestry　worker　from　the　town　found　me。
　　
　　He　was　one　of　the　search　party　drummed　up　by　Diggs　after　my　father　and　relations　missed　us　and　couldn't　find　us　and　called　the　police。　The　young　man　came　over　the　tops　of　the　dunes；　whistling　and　casually　whacking　clumps　of　reed　and　grass　with　a　stick。
　　
　　I　didn't　take　any　notice　of　him。　I　kept　staring　and　shivering　and　clutching　the　flowers。　My　father　and　Diggs　came　along　after　the　young　man　passed　word　along　the　line　of　people　beating　their　way　along　the　dunes；　but　I　didn't　take　any　notice　of　those　two；　either。　Eventually　there　were　dozens　of　people　clustered　around　me；　looking　at　me；　asking　me　questions；　scratching　their　heads；　looking　at　their　watches　and　gazing　about。　I　didn't　take　any　notice　of　them。　They　formed　their　line　again　and　started　searching　for　Esmerelda　while　I　was　carried　back　to　the　house。　They　offered　me　soup　I　was　desperate　for　but　took　no　notice　of；　asked　me　questions　I　answered　with　a　catatonic　silence　and　a　stare。　My　uncle　and　aunt　shook　me；　their　faces　red　and　eyes　wet；　but　I　took　no　notice　of　them。　Eventually　my　father　took　me　to　my　room；　undressed　me　and　put　me　to　bed。
　　
　　Somebody　stayed　in　my　room　all　night　and；　whether　it　was　my　father；　Diggs　or　anybody　else；　I　kept　them　and　me　awake　all　night　by　lying　quiet　for　a　while；　feigning　sleep；　then　screaming　with　all　my　might　and　falling　out　of　bed　to　thrash　about　on　the　floor。　Each　time　I　was　picked　up；　cuddled　and　put　back　to　bed。　Each　time　I　pretended　to　go　to　sleep　again　and　went　crazy　after　a　few　minutes。　If　any　of　them　talked　to　me；　I　just　lay　shaking　in　the　bed　staring　at　them；　soundless　and　deaf。
　　
　　I　kept　that　up　until　dawn；　when　the　search　party　returned；　Esmerelda…less；　then　I　let　myself　go　to　sleep。
　　
　　It　took　me　a　week　to　recover；　and　it　was　one　of　the　best　weeks　of　my　life。　Eric　came　back　from　his　school　cruise　and　I　started　to　talk　a　little　after　he　arrived；　just　nonsense　at　first；　then　later　disjointed　hints　at　what　had　happened；　always　followed　by　screaming　and　catatonia。
　　
　　Sometime　around　the　middle　of　the　week；　Dr　MacLennan　was　allowed　to　see　me　for　a　while；　after　Diggs　overruled　my　father's　refusal　to　have　me　medically　inspected　by　anybody　else　but　him。　Even　so；　he　stayed　in　the　room；　glowering　and　suspicious；　making　sure　that　the　examination　was　kept　within　certain　limits；　I　was　glad　he　didn't　let　the　doctor　look　all　over　me；　and　I　responded　by　being　a　little　more　lucid。
　　
　　By　the　end　of　the　week　I　was　still　having　the　occasional　fake　nightmare；　I　would　suddenly　go　very　quiet　and　shivery　every　now　and　again；　but　I　was　eating　more　or　less　normally　and　could　answer　most　questions　quite　happily。　Talking　about　Esmerelda；　and　what　had　happened　to　her；　still　brought　on　mini…fits　and　screams　and　total　withdrawal　for　a　while；　but　after　long　and　patient　questioning　by　my　father　and　Diggs　I　let　them　know　what　I　wanted　them　to　think　had　happened…a　big　kite；　Esmerelda　being　entangled　in　the　lines；　me　trying　to　help　her　and　the　winch　slipping　out　of　my　fingers；　desperate　running；　then　a　blank。
　　
　　I　explained　that　I　was　afraid　I　was　jinxed；　that　I　brought　death　and　destruction　upon　all　those　near　me；　and　also　that　I　was　afraid　I　might　get　sent　to　prison　because　people　would　think　I　had　murdered　Esmerelda。　I　wept　and　I　hugged　my　father　and　I　even　hugged　Diggs；　smelling　his　hard…blue　uniform　fabric　as　I　did　so　and　almost　feeling　him　melt　and　believe　me。　I　asked　him　to　go　to　the　shed　and　take　all　my　kites　away　and　burn　them；　which　he　duly　did；　in　a　hollow　now　called　Kite　Pyre　Dell。　I　was　sorry　about　the　kites；　and　I　knew　that　I'd　have　to　give　up　flying　them　for　good　to　keep　the　act　looking　realistic；　but　it　was　worth　it。　Esmerelda　never　did　show　up；　nobody　saw　her　after　me；　as　far　as　Diggs'　enquiries　of　trawlers　and　drilling…rigs　and　so　on　could　show。
　　
　　So　I　got　to　even　up　the　score　and　have　a　wonderful；　if　demanding；　week　of　fun　acting。　The　flowers　that　I　had　still　been　clutching　when　they　carried　me　back　to　the　house　had　been　prised　from　my　fingers　and　left　in　a　plastic　bag　on　top　of　the　fridge。　I　discovered　them　there；　shrivelled　and　dead；　forgotten　and　unnoticed；　two　weeks　later。　I　took　them　for　the　shrine　in　the　loft　one　night；　and　have　them　to　this　day；　little　brown　twists　of　dried　plant　like　old　Sellotape；　stuck　in　a　little　glass　bottle。　I　wonder　sometimes　where　my　cousin　ended　up；　at　the　bottom　of　the　sea；　or　washed　on　to　some　craggy　and　deserted　shore；　or　blown　on　to　a　high　mountain　face；　to　be　eaten　by　gulls　or　eagles。。。。
　　
　　I　would　like　to　think　that　she　died　still　being　floated　by　the　giant　kite；　that　she　went　round　the　world　and　rose　higher　as　she　died　of　starvation　and　dehydration　and　so　grew　less　weighty　still；　to　bee；　eventually；　a　tiny　skeleton　riding　the　jetstreams　of　the　planet；　a　sort　of　Flying　Dutchwoman。　But　I　doubt　that　such　a　romantic　vision　really　matches　the　truth。
　　
　　I　spent　most　of　Sunday　in　bed。　After　my　binge　of　the　previous　night；　I　wanted　rest；　lots　of　liquid；　little　food；　and　my　hangover　to　go　away。　I　felt　like　deciding　then　and　there　never　to　get　drunk　again；　but　being　so　young　I　decided　that　this　was　probably　a　little　unrealistic；　so　I　determined　not　to　get　that　drunk　again。
　　
　　My　father　came　and　banged　at　my　door　when　I　didn't　appear　for　breakfast。
　　
　　'And　what's　wrong　with　you；　as　if　I　need　ask？'
　　
　　'Nothing；'　I　croaked　at　the　door。
　　
　　'That'll　be　right；'　my　father　said　sarcastically。　'And　how　much　did　you　have　to　drink　last　night？'
　　
　　'Not　much。'
　　
　　'Hnnh；'　he　said。
　　
　　'I'II　be　down　soon；'　I　said；　and　rocked　to　and　fro　in　the　bed　to　make　noises　which　might　make　it　sound　as　though　I　was　getting　up。
　　
　　'Was　that　you　on　the　phone　last　night？'
　　
　　'What？'　I　asked　the　door；　stopping　my　rocking。
　　
　　'It　was；　wasn't　it　？　I　thought　it　was　you；　you　were　trying　to　disguise　your　voice。　What　were　you　doing　ringing　at　that　time？'
　　
　　'Aah。。。　I　don't　remember　ringing；　Dad；　honest；'　I　said　carefully。
　　
　　'Hnnh。　You're　a　fool；　boy；'　he　said；　and　clumped　off　down　the　hall。　I　lay　there；　thinking。　I　was　quite　sure　I　hadn't　called　the　house　the　previous　night。　I　had　been　with　Jamie　in　the　pub；　then　with　him　and　the　girl　outside；　then　alone　when　I　was　running；　and　then　with　Jamie　and　later　him　and　his　mother；　then　I　walked　home　almost　sober。　There　were　no　blank　spots。　I　assumed　it　must　have　been　Eric　calling。　From　the　sound　of　it　my　father　couldn't　have　spoken　to　him　for　very　long；　or　he　would　have　recognised　his　son's　voice。　I　lay　back　in　my　bed；　hoping　that　Eric　was　still　at　large　and　heading　this　way；　and　also　that　my　head　and　guts　would　stop　reminding　me　how　unfortable　they　could　feel。
　　
　　'Look　at　you；'　my　father　said　when　I　eventually　came　down　in　my　dressing…gown　to　watch　an　old　movie　on　the　television　that　afternoon。　'I　hope　you're　proud　of　yourself。　I　hope　you　think　feeling　like　that　makes　you　a　man。'　My　father　tutted　and　shook　his　head；　then　went　back　to　reading　the　Scientific　American。　I　sat　down　carefully　in　one　of　the　lounge's　big　easy　chairs。
　　
　　'I　did　get　a　bit　drunk　last　night；　Dad；　I　admit　it。　I'm　sorry　if　it　upsets　you；　but　I　assure　you　I'm　suffering　for　it。'
　　
　　'Well；　I　hope　that　teaches　you　a　lesson。　Do　you　realise　how　many　brain　cells　you　probably　managed　to　kill　off　last　night？'
　　
　　'A　good　few　thousand；'　I　said　after　a　brief　pause　for　calculation。
　　
　　My　father　nodded　enthusiastically：　'At　least。'
　　
　　'Well；　I'll　try　not　to　do　it　again。'
　　
　　'Hnnh。'
　　
　　'Brrap！'　said　my　anus　loudly；　surprising　me　as　well　as　my　father。　He　put　the　magazine　down　and　stared　into　space　over　my　head；　smiling　wisely　as　I　cleared　my　throat　and　flapped　the　hem　of　my　dressing…gown　as　unobtrusively　as　I　could。　I　could　see　his　nostrils　flex　and　quiver。
　　
　　'Lager　and　whisky；　eh？'　he　said；　nodding　to　himself　and　taking　up　his　magazine　again。　I　felt　myself　blush　and　I　gri