sk.everythingseventual-第91章

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　　'What　concerned　me…what　frightened　me…is　that　I　found　myself　reading　the　work　of　an　intelligent；　talented　man　who　doesn't　believe　one　single　thing　he　has　written。'
　　That　wasn't　exactly　true；　Mike　thought。　He'd　written　perhaps　two　dozen　stories　he　believed　in；　had　actually　published　a　few。　He'd　written　reams　of　poetry　he　believed　in　during　his　first　eighteen　months　in　New　York；　when　he　had　starved　on　the　payroll　of　The　Village　Voice。　But　did　he　believe　that　the　headless　ghost　of　Eugene　Rilsby　walked　his　deserted　Kansas　farmhouse　by　moonlight？　No。　He　had　spent　the　night　in　that　farmhouse；　camped　out　on　the　dirty　linoleum　hills　of　the　kitchen　floor；　and　had　seen　nothing　scarier　than　two　mice　trundling　along　the　baseboard。　He　had　spent　a　hot　summer　night　in　the　ruins　of　the　Transylvanian　castle　where　Vlad　Tepes　supposedly　still　held　court；　the　only　vampires　to　actually　show　up　had　been　a　fog　of　European　mosquitoes。　During　the　night　camped　out　by　the　grave　of　serial　killer　Jeffrey　Dahmer；　a　white；　blood…streaked　figure　waving　a　knife　had　e　at　him　out　of　the　two　o'clock　darkness；　but　the　giggles　of　the　apparition's　friends　had　given　him　away；　and　Mike　Enslin　hadn't　been　terribly　impressed；　anyway；　he　knew　a　teenage　ghost　waving　a　rubber　knife　when　he　saw　one。　But　he　had　no　intention　of　telling　any　of　this　to　Olin。　He　couldn't　afford　…
　　Except　he　could。　The　minicorder　（a　mistake　from　the　getgo；　he　now　understood）　was　stowed　away　again；　and　this　meeting　was　about　as　off…the…record　as　you　could　get。　Also；　he　had　e　to　admire　Olin　in　a　weird　way。　And　when　you　admired　a　man；　you　wanted　to　tell　him　the　truth。
　　'No；'　he　said；　'I　don't　believe　in　ghoulies　and　ghosties　and　long…leggety　beasties。　I　think　it's　good　there　are　no　such　things；　because　I　don't　believe　there's　any　good　Lord　that　can　protect　us　from　them；　either。　That's　what　I　believe；　but　I've　kept　an　open　mind　from　the　very　start。　I　may　never　win　the　Pulitzer　Prize　for　investigating　The　Barking　Ghost　in　Mount　Hope　Cemetery；　but　I　would　have　written　fairly　about　him　if　he　had　shown　up。'
　　Olin　said　something；　only　a　single　word；　but　too　low　for　Mike　to　make　it　out。
　　'I　beg　pardon？'
　　'I　said　no。'　Olin　looked　at　him　almost　apologetically。
　　Mike　sighed。　Olin　thought　he　was　a　liar。　When　you　got　to　that　point；　the　only　choices　were　to　put　up　your　dukes　or　disengage　totally　from　the　discussion。　'Why　don't　we　leave　this　for　another　day；　Mr。　Olin？　I'll　just　go　on　upstairs　and　brush　my　teeth。　Perhaps　I'll　see　Kevin　O'Malley　materialize　behind　me　in　the　bathroom　mirror。'
　　Mike　started　to　get　out　of　his　chair；　and　Olin　put　out　one　of　his　pudgy；　carefully　manicured　hands　to　stop　him。　'I'm　not　calling　you　a　liar；'　he　said；　'but；　Mr。　Enslin；　you　don't　believe。　Ghosts　rarely　appear　to　those　who　don't　believe　in　them；　and　when　they　do；　they　are　rarely　seen。　Why；　Eugene　Rilsby　could　have　bowled　his　severed　head　all　the　way　down　the　front　hall　of　his　home；　and　you　wouldn't　have　heard　a　thing！'
　　Mike　stood　up；　then　bent　to　grab　his　overnight　case。　'If　that's　so；　I　won't　have　anything　to　worry　about　in　room　1408；　will　I？'
　　'But　you　will；'　Olin　said。　'You　will。　Because　there　are　no　ghosts　in　room　1408　and　never　have　been。　There's　something　in　there…I've　felt　it　myself…but　it's　not　a　spirit　presence。　In　an　abandoned　house　or　an　old　castle　keep；　your　unbelief　may　serve　you　as　protection。　In　room　1408；　it　will　only　render　you　more　vulnerable。　Don't　do　it；　Mr。　Enslin。　That's　why　I　waited　for　you　tonight；　to　ask　you；　beg　you；　not　to　do　it。　Of　all　the　people　on　earth　who　don't　belong　in　that　room；　the　man　who　wrote　those　cheerful；　exploitative　true…ghost　books　leads　the　list。'
　　Mike　heard　this　and　didn't　hear　it　at　the　same　time。　And　you　turned　off　your　tape　recorder！　he　was　raving。　He　embarrasses　me　into　turning　off　my　tape　recorder　and　then　he　turns　into　Boris　Karloff　hosting　The　All…Star　Spook　Weekend！　Fuck　it。　I'll　quote　him　anyway。　If　he　doesn't　like　it；　let　him　sue　me。
　　All　at　once　he　was　burning　to　get　upstairs；　not　just　so　he　could　start　getting　his　long　night　in　a　corner　hotel　room　over　with；　but　because　he　wanted　to　transcribe　what　Olin　had　just　said　while　it　was　still　fresh　in　his　mind。
　　'Have　a　drink；　Mr。　Enslin。'
　　'No；　I　really…'
　　Mr。　Olin　reached　into　his　coat　pocket　and　brought　out　a　key　on　a　long　brass　paddle。　The　brass　looked　old　and　scratched　and　tarnished。　Embossed　on　it　were　the　numbers　1408。　'Please；'　Olin　said。　'Humor　me。　You　give　me　ten　more　minutes　of　your　time…long　enough　to　consume　a　short　Scotch…and　I'll　hand　you　this　key。　I　would　give　almost　anything　to　be　able　to　change　your　mind；　but　I　like　to　think　I　can　recognize　the　inevitable　when　I　see　it。'
　　'You　still　use　actual　keys　here？'　Mike　asked。　'That's　sort　of　a　nice　touch。　Antiquey。'
　　'The　Dolphin　went　to　a　MagCard　system　in　1979；　Mr。　Enslin；　the　year　I　took　the　job　as　manager。　1408　is　the　only　room　in　the　house　that　still　opens　with　a　key。　There　was　no　need　to　put　a　MagCard　lock　on　its　door；　because　there's　never　anyone　inside；　the　room　was　last　occupied　by　a　paying　guest　in　1978。'
　　'You're　shitting　me！'　Mike　sat　down　again；　and　unlimbered　his　minicorder　again。　He　pushed　the　RECORD　button　and　said；　'House　manager　Olin　claims　1408　not　rented　to　a　paying　guest　in　over　twenty　years。'
　　'It　is　just　as　well　that　1408　has　never　needed　a　MagCard　lock　on　its　door；　because　I　am　pletely　positive　the　device　wouldn't　work。　Digital　wristwatches　don't　work　in　room　1408。　Sometimes　they　run　backward；　sometimes　they　simply　go　out；　but　you　can't　tell　time　with　one。　Not　in　room　1408；　you　can't。　The　same　is　true　of　pocket　calculators　and　cell…phones。　If　you're　wearing　a　beeper；　Mr。　Enslin；　I　advise　you　to　turn　it　off；　because　once　you're　in　room　1408；　it　will　start　beeping　at　will。'　He　paused。　'And　turning　it　off　isn't　guaranteed　to　work；　either；　it　may　turn　itself　back　on。　The　only　sure　cure　is　to　pull　the　batteries。'　He　pushed　the　STOP　button　on　the　minicorder　without　examining　the　buttons；　Mike　supposed　he　used　a　similar　model　for　dictating　memos。　'Actually；　Mr。　Enslin；　the　only　sure　cure　is　to　stay　the　hell　out　of　that　room。'
　　'I　can't　do　that；'　Mike　said；　taking　his　minicorder　back　and　stowing　it　once　more；　'but　I　think　I　can　take　time　for　that　drink。'
　　
　　While　Olin　poured　from　the　fumed…oak　bar　beneath　an　oil　painting　of　Fifth　Avenue　at　the　turn　of　the　century；　Mike　asked　him　how；　if　the　room　had　been　continuously　unoccupied　since　1978；　Olin　knew　that　high…tech　gadgets　didn't　work　inside。
　　'I　didn't　intend　to　give　you　the　impression　that　no　one　had　set　foot　through　the　door　since　1978；'　Olin　replied。　'For　one　thing；　there　are　maids　in　once　a　month　to　give　the　place　a　light　turn。　That　means…'
　　Mike；　who　had　been　working　on　Ten　Haunted　Hotel　Rooms　for　about　four　months　at　that　point；　said：　'I　know　what　it　means。'　A　light　turn　in　an　unoccupied　room　would　include　opening　the　windows　to　change　the　air；　dusting；　enough　Ty…D…Bowl　in　the　can　to　turn　the　water　briefly　blue；　a　change　of　the　towels。　Probably　not　the　bed…linen；　not　on　a　light　turn。　He　wondered　if　he　should　have　brought　his　sleeping…bag。
　　Crossing　the　Persian　from　the　bar　with　their　drinks　in　his　hands；　Olin　seemed　to　read　Mike's　thought　on　his　face。　'The　sheets　were　changed　this　very　afternoon；　Mr。　Enslin。'
　　'Why　don't　you　drop　that？　Call　me　Mike。'
　　'I　don't　think　I'd　be　fortable　with　that；'　Olin　said；　handing　Mike　his　drink。　'Here's　to　you。'
　　'And　you。'　Mike　lifted　his　glass；　meaning　to　clink　it　against　Olin's；　but　Olin　pulled　his　back。
　　'No；　to　you；　Mr。　Enslin。　I　insist。　Tonight　we　should　both　drink　to　you。　You'll　need　it。'
　　Mike　sighed；　clinked　the　rim　of　his　glass　against　the　rim　of　Olin's；　and　said：　'To　me。　You　would　have　been　right　at　home　in　a　horror　movie；　Mr。　Olin。　You　could　have　played　the　gloomy　old　butler　who　tries　to　warn　the　young　married　couple　away　from　Castle　Doom。'
　　Olin　sat　down。　'It's　a　part　I　haven't　had　to　play　often；　thank　God。　Room　1408　isn't　listed　on　any　of　the　websites　dealing　with　paranormal　locations　or　psychic　hotspots…'
　　That'll　change　after　my　book；　Mike　thought；　sipping　his　drink。
　　'…and　there　are　no　ghost…tours　with　stops　at　the　Hot