pzb.drawingblood-第41章
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forearm。 He had to put some on the outside； Zach thought； to match the ones on the inside。 But he didn't yet know Trevor well enough to say that。 Instead he talked of New Orleans； the daytime bustle of the French Market； the way the cobblestone streets looked at night under the gas lamps all black and gold； the neon smear of Bourbon Street； the river like a dirty brown vein pulsing through the city。
At last they both began to yawn。 Trevor stood up； stretched hugely。 Zach watched the loose sweatpants ride low on the ridges of his hipbones； then wondered why he was staring； he'd already seen it all this afternoon。 〃Do you want to crash here？〃
Finally。 〃That'd be great。〃
〃You can have the big bedroom。 There's a mattress and； uh 。 。 。〃 Trevor stared at the floor。 〃Nobody died in there or anything。〃
Zach hadn't expected an invitation to bed down with Trevor； was still trying to convince himself he didn't want one。 But he couldn't help feeling disappointed as he said good night and left the kitchen。
He untied his sneakers； took off his glasses； and was about to lie down on the sagging double mattress when he realized that his head and back were throbbing in tandem。 He'd been running on pure adrenaline for more than twenty…four hours； now the pot and the long drive had finally kicked in to give him the great…granddaddy of all body aches； and he hadn't brought any kind of medicine。
He padded down the hall to Trevor's room； saw that the light was still on； and tapped at the door。 〃Do you have any aspirin？〃
Trevor was sprawled in bed reading the John List book。 〃Yeah； I think so。〃 He sat up and rummaged in his bag； came up with a single white pill。 〃Here you go。 I think this is my last one。〃
〃Thanks。 G'night again。〃 Zach went to the kitchen and drank from the faucet； put the pill in his mouth； and washed it down。 A chill ran along his spine as he passed the hall doorway and returned to his room。 It was dank and dim； empty except for the mattress and some moldering cardboard boxes in the shadowed recesses of the closet； the window an inky rectangle beaded with rain。
For the first time in hours Zach found himself unnerved by the house。 Sitting in the bright kitchen talking with Trevor was one thing。 Sleeping by himself in the bedroom of a suicide and a murder victim whose blood still stained the place 。 。 。 that was another。
But he wasn't afraid of ghosts； he reminded himself。 He lay down on the dusty mattress； pulled one of Kinsey's blankets over him； and closed his eyes。
A few minutes later his heart gave a nauseating lurch and began to race so hard he thought it might just punch right through his breastbone like an angry fist made of muscle and blood。 Then his whole chest seized up and he was sure the tortured organ had simply ceased to beat； that in seconds he would realize he was dead。
He felt the house gather itself around him； its rotting boards alive and watchful； its darkness ready to enfold him in velvety arms and claim him for its own。
Trevor turned out the light and lay back on his mattress； listening to the slow creak and drip of the house。 He thought that somewhere deep within the hundreds of tiny noises there might be a murmuring voice。 He wondered 。 what having Zach here would do to the house's subtle chemistry。 He wondered why he had let Zach stay。
It was only for one night； he told himself。 Zach was an outsider too； and he would surely want to move on tomorrow。
But that didn't explain the weird sensation they'd had of almost recognizing each other this afternoon。 And it didn't explain the tightness Trevor felt behind his eyes when he looked at Zach； or the uneasy warmth deep in his stomach when he thought about Zach now。 He was so smart 。 。 。 and so strange 。 。 。 and he had the smoothest skin； like matte paper 。 。 。
Probably it was just the pot。 Trevor had smoked too much。 Stupid to think it could teach him anything of his father； it was only a drug； its effects as subjective as those of sleep or sorrow。 Even alcohol was nothing but a drug。 In his heart he knew it hadn't made Bobby kill his family any more than the hammer had。
The idea of being drunk still made Trevor feel sick； though。 All he could remember was the stinging scent of whiskey that had surrounded Bobby like a cloud as he watched his five…year…old son drink Seconal； then hugged him goodnight for the last time。
Trevor heard a floorboard creak in the hall； then a closer sound。 The door of his room； which he had pushed to； slowly swinging open。 His body stiffened and his ears strained； he felt his pupils dilating hugely； painfully against the blackness。
〃Trevor？ You still awake？〃
It was Zach。
He thought of not answering； of pretending to be asleep。 He couldn't imagine what Zach wanted now。 But Zach had listened to him this afternoon。
〃I'm awake；〃 he said； and sat up。
〃What was that medicine you gave me？〃
〃Aspirin； like you asked for。〃
〃Are you sure it was aspirin？〃
〃Well； Excedrin。 That's what I always take。〃
〃Oh； god。〃 Zach laughed weakly。 〃That shit has sixty…five milligrams of caffeine in every tablet。 I can't deal with caffeine。〃
〃What happens？〃
〃It hits me like speed。 Bad speed。〃
〃What do you want me to do？〃
〃Nothing。〃 He felt Zach's weight settle onto the edge of the mattress。 〃I'm not gonna be able to sleep for a while； though。 I thought maybe we could talk some more。〃
〃Why？〃
〃Why what？〃
〃Why do you want to talk to me？〃
〃Why shouldn't I？〃
〃I don't understand why you like me。 The first time I ever laid eyes on you； I tried to knock your brains out。 Now I've poisoned you。 How e you're still here？〃
He heard Zach try to laugh。 It came out more like a moan。 〃Just persistent； I guess。〃
〃No。 Really。〃
〃Well 。。。〃 A shudder ran through Zach's body； into the mattress。 〃Do you mind if I stretch out here？〃
〃I guess not。〃
Trevor moved to one side of the bed。 He felt Zach arranging himself on the other side； thought he could feel electricity crackling off Zach's skin。 When Zach's elbow brushed his； it gave Trevor a sensation like the shock one gets from walking across a carpet and then touching metal。
〃First of all；〃 said Zach； 〃you didn't try to knock my brains out。 You stopped。 Second； you didn't know caffeine would hurt me。〃
〃Even so…〃
〃Even so； seems like I would have figured out by now that you aren't exactly good for my health？〃
〃Something like that； yeah。〃
〃Maybe I'm not in this for my health。〃
〃In what？〃
〃Life。〃
〃Then what are you in it for？〃
〃Um 。 。 。〃 He felt Zach shiver。 〃To keep myself amused； I guess。 No； not amused。 Interested。 I want to do everything。〃
〃You do？ Really？〃
〃Sure。 Don't you？〃
Trevor thought about it。 〃I think I just want to see everything；〃 he said at last。 〃And sometimes I'm not even sure I want to。 I just feel like I have to。〃
〃That's because you're an artist。 Artists remind me of stills。〃
〃Of what？〃
〃Of stills。 What they use to make moonshine。 You take in information and distill it into art。〃 Zach was silent for a moment。 〃I guess that's not such a good analogy from your point of view。〃
〃It's okay。 A still doesn't have much choice about making moonshine。 The choice is up to the person who drinks it。〃
〃Then I'll drink your moonshine anytime you want to give me some；〃 said Zach。 〃I admire you。 That's why I didn't leave this afternoon。 You may be crazy； but I think you're also very brave。〃
Suddenly Trevor felt like crying again。 Here was this young kid on the run from some sinister unknown； this curious； generous； resilient soul who could stand up to a stranger with a hammer and make friends afterward； and he thought Trevor was brave。 It didn't make sense； but it sure made him feel better。 He couldn't remember the last time anyone had told him he was doing something right。
〃Thanks；〃 he said when he could trust his voice。 〃I don't feel very brave； though。 I feel scared all the time。〃
〃Yeah。 Me too。〃
Something brushed the side of Trevor's hand； then crept warmly into the palm。 Zach's ringer； still trembling a little。 Trevor nearly jerked h
