ib.thewaspfactory-第25章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　I　turned　away　from　looking　down　at　my　father　and　faced　into　the　corner；　sighing　mightily　and　whispering　'Oh　my　God；'　to　myself；　away　from　the　mouthpiece。
　　
　　'Yes。　Yes；　that's　right；　Jamie；'　I　continued　hopelessly。
　　
　　'That　brother　of　mine　is　still　making　his　way　here；　as　far　as　I　can　tell。　Me　and　Dad　here　are　hoping　he's　all　right。'
　　
　　'You　little　bastard！　You　're　talking　as　though　I'm　not　even　here！　Christ；　I　hate　when　people　do　that！　You　wouldn't　do　that　to　me；　would　you；　me　old　flame？'　His　voice　went　away　again；　and　I　heard　doggy　noises…puppy　noises；　e　to　think　of　it　over　the　phone。　I　was　starting　to　sweat。
　　
　　I　heard　footsteps　in　the　hall　below；　then　the　kitchen　light　click　off。　The　footsteps　came　again；　then　started　up　the　stairs。　I　turned　round　quickly；　smiled　at　my　father　as　he　approached。
　　
　　'Well；　there　you　go；　Jamie；'　I　said　pathetically；　drying　up　metaphorically　as　well　as　literally。
　　
　　'Don't　spend　too　long　on　that　phone；'　my　father　said　as　he　passed　me；　and　continued　up　the　stairs。
　　
　　'Right；　Dad！'　I　shouted　merrily；　beginning　to　experience　an　ache　somewhere　near　my　bladder　that　I　sometimes　get　when　things　are　going　particluarly　badly　and　I　can't　see　any　way　out。
　　
　　'Aaaaoooo！'
　　
　　I　jerked　the　phone　away　from　my　ear　and　stared　into　it　for　a　second。　I　couldn't　decide　whether　Eric　or　the　dog　had　made　the　noise。
　　
　　'Hello？　Hello？'　I　whispered　feverishly；　glancing　up　to　see　Father's　shadow　leave　the　wall　on　the　floor　above。
　　
　　'Haaaooowwwaaaaooooww！'　came　the　scream　down　the　line。　I　shook　and　flinched。　My　God；　what　was　he　doing　to　the　animal？　Then　the　receiver　clunked；　I　heard　a　shout　like　a　curse；　and　the　phone　rattled　and　crashed　again。　'You　little　bastard…　Aargh！　Fuck！　Shit。　e　back；　you　little…'
　　
　　'Hello！　Eric！　I　mean　Frank！　I　mean…　Hello！　What's　happening？'　I　hissed；　glancing　up　the　stairs　for　shadows；　crouching　down　at　the　phone　and　covering　up　my　mouth　with　my　free　hand。　'Hello？'
　　
　　There　was　a　clatter；　then　'That　was　your　fault！'　shouted　close　to　the　handset；　then　another　crash。　I　could　hear　vague　noises　for　a　bit；　but　even　straining　I　couldn't　make　out　what　they　were；　and　they　could　have　been　just　noises　on　the　line。　I　wondered　whether　I　should　put　the　phone　down；　and　was　about　to　do　so　when　Eric's　voice　came　again；　muttering　something　I　couldn't　make　out。
　　
　　'Hello？　What？'　I　said。
　　
　　'Still　there；　eh？　I　lost　the　little　bastard。　That　was　your　fault。　Christ；　what's　the　use　of　you？'
　　
　　'I'm　sorry；'　I　said；　genuinely。
　　
　　'Too　bloody　late　now。　Bit　me；　the　little　shit。　I'll　catch　it　again；　though。　Bastard。'　The　pips　went。　I　heard　more　money　being　put　in。　'I　suppose　you're　glad；　aren't　you？'
　　
　　'Glad　what？'
　　
　　'Glad　the　goddam　dog　got　away；　asshole。'
　　
　　'What？　Me？'　I　stalled。
　　
　　'You　aren't　trying　to　tell　me　you're　sorry　it　got　away；　are　you？'
　　
　　'Ah。　。　。　。'
　　
　　'You　did　it　on　purpose！'　Eric　shouted。　'You　did　it　on。　purpose！　You　wanted　it　to　get　away！　You　won't　let　me　play　with　anything！　You'd　rather　the　dog　enjoyed　itself　than　me！　You　shit！　You　rotten　bastard！'
　　
　　'Ha　ha；'　I　laughed　unconvincingly。　'Well；　thanks　for　calling…ah…Frank。　Goodbye。'　I　slammed　the　receiver　down　and　stood　for　a　second；　congratulating　myself　on　how　well　I　had　done；　all　things　considered。　I　wiped　my　brow；　which　had　bee　a　little　sweaty；　and　took　a　last　look　up　at　the　shadow　less　wall　above。
　　
　　I　shook　my　head　and　trudged　up　the　stairs。　I'd　got　as　far　as　the　top　step　on　that　flight　when　the　phone　went　again。　I　froze。
　　
　　If　I　answered　it。。。。　But　if　I　didn't；　and　father　did。。。。
　　
　　I　ran　back　down；　picked　it　up；　heard　the　coins　go　in；　then　'Bastard！'　followed　by　a　series　of　deafening　crashes　as　plastic　met　metal　and　glass。　I　closed　my　eyes　and　listened　to　the　cracks　and　smashes　until　one　especially　loud　thump　ended　in　a　low　buzz　telephones　don't　usually　make；　then　I　put　the　phone　down　again；　turned；　looked　upward；　and　set　wearily　off；　back　up　the　stairs。
　　
　　I　lay　in　bed。　Soon　I　would　have　to　try　some　long…range　fixing　of　this　problem。　It　was　the　only　way。　I'd　have　to　try　to　influence　things　through　the　root　cause　of　it　all　：　Old　Saul　himself。　Some　heavy　medicine　was　required　if　Eric　wasn't　to　wreck　single…handedly　the　entire　Scottish　telephone　network　and　decimate　the　country's　canine　population。　First；　though；　I　would　have　to　consult　the　Factory　again。
　　
　　It　wasn't　exactly　my　fault；　but　I　was　totally　involved；　and　I　might　just　be　able　to　do　something　about　it；　with　the　skull　of　the　ancient　hound；　the　Factory's　help　and　a　little　luck。　How　susceptible　my　brother　would　be　to　whatever　vibes　I　could　send　out　was　a　question　I　didn't　like　too　much　to　think　about；　given　the　state　of　his　head；　but　I　had　to　do　something。
　　
　　I　hoped　the　little　puppy　had　got　well　away。　Dammit；　I　didn't　hold　all　dogs　to　blame　for　what　had　happened。　Old　Saul　was　the　culprit；　Old　Saul　had　gone　down　in　our　history　and　my　personal　mythology　as　the　Castraitor；　but　thanks　to　the　little　creatures　who　flew　the　creek　I　had　him　in　my　power　now。
　　
　　Eric　was　crazy　all　right；　even　if　he　was　my　brother。　He　was　lucky　to　have　somebody　sane　who　still　liked　him。
　　
　　
　　　6　：　The　Skull　Grounds
　　
　　
　　WHEN　Agnes　Cauldhame　arrived；　eight　and　a　half　months　pregnant；　on　her　BSA　500　with　the　swept…back　handlebars　and　eye　of　Sauron　painted　red　on　the　petrol…tank；　my　father　was；　perhaps　understandably；　not　ferociously　pleased　to　see　her。　She　had；　after　all；　deserted　him　almost　immediately　after　my　birth；　leaving　him　holding　the　squealing　baby。　To　disappear　without　so　much　as　a　phone　call　or　a　postcard　for　three　years　and　then　breeze　back　down　the　path　from　the　town　and　across　the　bridge…rubber　handlebars　just　clearing　the　sides　and　no　more…carrying　somebody　else's　baby　or　babies　and　expecting　to　be　housed；　fed；　nursed　and　delivered　by　my　father　was　a　little　presumptuous。
　　
　　Being　only　three　at　the　time；　I　can't　remember　much　about　it。　In　fact　I　can't　remember　anything　about　it　at　all；　just　as　I　can't　remember　anything　before　the　age　of　three。　But　then；　of　course；　I　have　my　own　good　reasons　for　that。　From　the　little　I've　been　able　to　piece　together　when　my　father　has　chosen　to　let　slip　some　information；　I've　been　able　to　get　what　I　think　is　an　accurate　idea　of　what　happened。　Mrs　Clamp　has　e　across　with　some　details　on　sporadic　occasions；　too；　though　they　are　probably　no　more　to　be　relied　on　than　what　my　father's　told　me。
　　
　　Eric　was　away　at　the　time；　staying　with　the　Stoves　in　Belfast。
　　
　　Agnes；　tanned；　huge；　all　beads　and　bright　caftan；　determined　to　give　birth　in　the　lotus　position　（in　which　she　claimed　the　child　had　been　conceived）　while　going　'Om'；　refused　to　answer　any　of　my　father's　questions　about　where　she　had　been　for　the　three　years　and　who　she　had　been　with。　She　told　him　not　to　be　so　possessive　about　her　and　her　body。　She　was　well　and　with　child；　that　was　all　he　needed　to　know。
　　
　　Agnes　ensconced　herself　in　what　had　been　their　bedroom　despite　my　father's　protests。　Whether　he　was　secretly　glad　to　have　her　back；　and　perhaps　even　had　some　foolish　idea　that　she　might　be　back　to　stay；　I　can't　say。　I　don't　think　he　is　all　that　forceful　really；　despite　the　aura　of　brooding　presence　he　can　show　when　he　wants　to　be　impressive。　I　suspect　that　my　mother's　obviously　determined　nature　would　have　been　enough　to　master　him。　Anyway；　she　got　her　way；　and　lived　in　fine　style　for　a　couple　of　weeks　that　heady　summer　of　love　and　peace；　etcetera。
　　
　　My　father　still　had　full　use　of　both　his　legs　at　the　time；　and　had　to　use　them　to　run　up　and　down　from　kitchen　or　lounge　to　the　bedroom　and　back　when　Agnes　rang　the　little　bells　sewn　into　the　bell…bottoms　of　her　jeans；　which　lay　draped　over　a　chair　by　the　side　of　the　bed。　On　top　of　that；　my　father　had　to　look　after　me。　I　was　toddling　around　at　the　time　getting　into　mischief　the　way　any　normal；　healthy　three…year…old　boy　does。　As　I　say；　I　can't　remember　anything；　but　I'm　told　that　I　did　seem　to　enjoy　annoying　Old　Saul；　the　bandy…legged　and　ancient　white　bulldog　my　father　kept