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第13章

sk.everythingseventual-第13章

小说: sk.everythingseventual 字数: 每页4000字

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's wedding ring。 And in that moment I saw her lying in her coffin with the sun shining off the wedding band and knew it was true…she had been stung by a bee; she had drowned in the warm; bread…smelling kitchen air; and Candy Bill had licked her dying tears from her swollen cheeks。
  'Big fish!' the man in the black suit cried in a guttural; greedy voice。 'Oh; biiig fiiish!'
  He snatched it away from me and crammed it into a mouth that opened wider than any human mouth ever could。 Many years later; when I was sixty…five (I know it was sixty…five because that was the summer I retired from teaching); I went to the New England Aquarium and finally saw a shark。 The mouth of the man in the black suit was like that shark's mouth when it opened; only his gullet was blazing red; the same color as his awful eyes; and I felt heat bake out of it and into my face; the way you feel a sudden wave of heat e pushing out of a fireplace when a dry piece of wood catches alight。 And I didn't imagine that heat; either; I know I didn't; because just before he slid the head of my nineteen…inch brook trout between his gaping jaws; I saw the scales along the sides of the fish rise up and begin to curl like bits of paper floating over an open incinerator。
  He slid the fish in like a man in a travelling show swallowing a sword。 He didn't chew; and his blazing eyes bulged out; as if in effort。 The fish went in and went in; his throat bulged as it slid down his gullet; and now he began to cry tears of his own 。 。 。 except his tears were blood; scarlet and thick。
  I think it was the sight of those bloody tears that gave me my body back。 I don't know why that should have been; but I think it was。 I bolted to my feet like a jack released from its box; turned with my bamboo pole still in one hand; and fled up the bank; bending over and tearing tough bunches of weeds out with my free hand in an effort to get up the slope more quickly。
  He made a strangled; furious noise…the sound of any man with his mouth too full…and I looked back just as I got to the top。 He was ing after me; the back of his suit…coat flapping and his thin gold watch…chain flashing and winking in the sun。 The tail of the fish was still protruding from his mouth and I could smell the rest of it; roasting in the oven of his throat。
  He reached for me; groping with his talons; and I fled along the top of the bank。 After a hundred yards or so I found my voice and went to screaming…screaming in fear; of course; but also screaming in grief for my beautiful dead mother。
  He was ing along after me。 I could hear snapping branches and whipping bushes; but I didn't look back again。 I lowered my head; slitted my eyes against the bushes and low…hanging branches along the stream's bank; and ran as fast as I could。 And at every step I expected to feel his hands descending on my shoulders pulling me back into a final hot hug。
  That didn't happen。 Some unknown length of time later…it couldn't have been longer than five or ten minutes; I suppose; but it seemed like forever…I saw the bridge through layerings of leaves and firs。 Still screaming; but breathlessly now; sounding like a teakettle which has almost boiled dry; I reached this second; steeper bank and charged up to it。
  Halfway to the top I slipped to my knees; looked over my shoulder; and saw the man in the black suit almost at my heels; his white face pulled into a convulsion of fury and greed。 His cheeks were splattered with his bloody tears and his shark's mouth hung open like a hinge。
  'Fisherboy!' he snarled; and started up the bank after me; grasping at my foot with one long hand。 I tore free; turned; and threw my fish…ing pole at him。 He batted it down easily; but it tangled his feet up somehow and he went to his knees。 I didn't wait to see anymore; I turned and bolted to the top of the slope。 I almost slipped at the very top; but managed to grab one of the support struts running beneath the bridge and save myself。
  'You can't get away; fisherboy!' he cried from behind me。 He sounded furious; but he also sounded as if he were laughing。 'It takes more than a mouthful of trout to fill me up!'
  'Leave me alone!' I screamed back at him。 I grabbed the bridge's railing and threw myself over it in a clumsy somersault; filling my hands with splinters and bumping my head so hard on the boards when I came down that I saw stars。 I rolled over onto my belly and began crawling。 I lurched to my feet just before I got to the end of the bridge; stumbled once; found my rhythm; and then began to run。 I ran as only nine…year…old boys can run; which is like the wind。 It felt as if my feet only touched the ground with every third or fourth stride; and for all I know; that may be true。 I ran straight up the righthand wheelrut in the road; ran until my temples pounded and my eyes pulsed in their sockets; ran until I had a hot stitch in my left side from the bottom of my ribs to my armpit; ran until I could taste blood and something like metal…shavings in the back of my throat。 When I couldn't run anymore I stumbled to a stop and looked back over my shoulder; puffing and blowing like a windbroke horse。 I was convinced I would see him standing right there behind me in his natty black suit; the watch…chain a glittering loop across his vest and not a hair out of place。
  But he was gone。 The road stretching back toward Castle Stream between the darkly massed pines and spruces was empty。 And yet I sensed him somewhere near in those woods; watching me with his grassfire eyes; smelling of burnt matches and roasted fish。
  I turned and began walking as fast as I could; limping a little…I'd pulled muscles in both legs; and when I got out of bed the next morning I was so sore I could barely walk。 I didn't notice those things then; though。 I just kept looking over my shoulder; needing again and again to verify that the road behind me was still empty。 It was; each time I looked; but those backward glances seemed to increase my fear rather than lessening it。 The firs looked darker; massier; and I kept imagining what lay behind the trees which marched beside the road…long; tangled corridors of forest; leg…breaking deadfalls; ravines where anything might live。 Until that Saturday in 1914; I had thought that bears were the worst thing the forest could hold。
  Now I knew better。
  
  A mile or so further up the road; just beyond the place where it came out of the woods and joined the Geegan Flat Road; I saw my father walking toward me and whistling 'The Old Oaken Bucket。' He was carrying his own rod; the one with the fancy spinning reel from Monkey Ward。 In his other hand he had his creel; the one with the ribbon my mother had woven through the handle back when Dan was still alive。 DEDICATED TO JESUS; that ribbon said。 I had been walking but when I saw him I started to run again; screaming Dad! Dad! Dad! at the top of my lungs and staggering from side to side on my tired; sprung legs like a drunken sailor。 The expression of surprise on his face when he recognized me might have been ical under other circumstances; but not under these。 He dropped his rod and creel into the road without so much as a downward glance at them and ran to me。 It was the fastest I ever saw my Dad run in his life; when we came together it was a wonder the impact didn't knock us both senseless; and I struck my face on his belt…buckle hard enough to start a little nosebleed。 I didn't notice that until later; though。 Right then I only reached out my arms and clutched him as hard as I could。 I held on and rubbed my hot face back and forth against his belly; covering his old blue workshirt with blood and tears and snot。
  'Gary; what is it? What happened? Are you all right?'
  'Ma's dead!' I sobbed。 'I met a man in the woods and he told me! Ma's dead! She got stung by a bee and it swelled her all up just like what happened to Dan; and she's dead! She's on the kitchen floor and Candy Bill 。 。 。 licked the t…t…tears 。 。 。 off her 。 。 。 off her 。 。 。'
  Face was the last word I had to say; but by then my chest was hitching so bad I couldn't get it out。 My tears were flowing again; and my Dad's startled; frightened face had blurred into three overlapping ima

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