sk.theshining-第13章

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　anything。　Big　ideas；　her　mother　had　said。　Sure。　The　welfare　lines　are　full　of　educated　fools　with　big　ideas。　Did　the　Esquire　story　make　her　mother　wrong　or　right？　Winnifred；　you're　not　holding　that　baby　right。　Give　him　to　me。　And　was　she　not　holding　her　husband　right？　Why　else　would　he　take　his　joy　out　of　the　house？　A　helpless　kind　of　terror　had　risen　up　in　her　and　it　never　occurred　to　her　that　he　had　gone　out　for　reasons　that　had　nothing　to　do　with　her。
　　〃Congratulations；〃　she　said；　rocking　Danny…he　was　almost　asleep　again。　〃Maybe　you　gave　him　a　concussion。〃
　　〃It's　just　a　bruise。〃　He　sounded　sulky；　wanting　to　be　repentant：　a　little　boy。
　　For　an　instant　she　hated　him。
　　〃Maybe；〃　she　said　tightly。　〃Maybe　not。〃　She　heard　so　much　of　her　mother　talking　to　her　departed　father　in　her　own　voice　that　she　was　sickened　and　afraid。
　　〃Like　mother　like　daughter；〃　Jack　muttered。
　　〃Go　to　bed！〃　she　cried；　her　fear　ing　out　sounding　like　anger。　〃Go　to　bed；　you're　drunk！〃
　　〃Don't　tell　me　what　to　do。〃
　　〃Jack　。　。　。　please；　we　shouldn't　。　。　。　it　。　。　。〃　There　were　no　words。
　　〃Don't　tell　me　what　to　do；〃　he　repeated　sullenly；　and　then　went　into　the　bedroom。　She　was　left　alone　in　the　rocking　chair　with　Danny；　who　was　sleeping　again。　Five　minutes　later　Jack's　snores　came　floating　out　to　the　living　room。
　　That　had　been　the　first　night　she　had　slept　on　the　couch。
　　Now　she　turned　restlessly　on　the　bed；　already　dozing。　Her　mind；　freed　of　any　linear　order　by　encroaching　sleep；　floated　past　the　first　year　at　Stovington；　past　the　steadily　worsening　times　that　had　reached　low　ebb　when　her　husband　had　broken　Danny's　arm；　to　that　morning　in　the　breakfast　nook。
　　Danny　outside　playing　trucks　in　the　sandpile；　his　arm　still　in　the　cast。　Jack　sitting　at　the　table；　pallid　and　grizzled；　a　cigarette　jittering　between　his　fingers。　She　had　decided　to　ask　him　for　a　divorce。　She　had　pondered　the　question　from　a　hundred　different　angles；　had　been　pondering　it　in　fact　for　the　six　months　before　the　broken　arm。　She　told　herself　she　would　have　made　the　decision　long　ago　if　it　hadn't　been　for　Danny；　but　not　even　that　was　necessarily　true。
　　She　dreamed　on　the　long　nights　when　Jack　was　out；　and　her　dreams　were　always　of　her　mother's　face　and　of　her　own　wedding。
　　（Who　giveth　this　woman？　Her　father　standing　in　his　best　suit　which　was　none　too　good…he　was　a　traveling　salesman　for　a　line　of　canned　goods　that　even　then　was　going　broke…and　his　tired　face；　how　old　he　looked；　how　pale：　I　do。）　Even　after　the　accident…if　you　could　call　it　an　accident…she　had　not　been　able　to　bring　it　all　the　way　out；　to　admit　that　her　marriage　was　a　lopsided　defeat。　She　had　waited；　dumbly　hoping　that　a　miracle　would　occur　and　Jack　would　see　what　was　happening；　not　only　to　him　but　to　her。　But　there　had　been　no　slowdown。　A　drink　before　going　off　to　the　Academy。　Two　or　three　beers　with　lunch　at　the　Stovington　House。　Three　or　four　martinis　before　dinner。　Five　or　six　more　while　grading　papers。　The　weekends　were　worse。　The　nights　out　with　Al　Shockley　were　worse　still。　She　had　never　dreamed　there　could　be　so　much　pain　in　a　life　when　there　was　nothing　physically　wrong。　She　hurt　all　the　time。　How　much　of　it　was　her　fault？　That　question　haunted　her。　She　felt　like　her　mother。　Like　her　father。　Sometimes；　when　she　felt　like　herself　she　wondered　what　it　would　be　like　for　Danny；　and　she　dreaded　the　day　when　he　grew　old　enough　to　lay　blame。　And　she　wondered　where　they　would　go。　She　had　no　doubt　her　mother　would　take　her　in；　and　no　doubt　that　after　a　year　of　watching　her　diapers　remade；　Danny's　meals　recooked　and/or　redistributed；　of　ing　home　to　find　his　clothes　changed　or　his　hair　cut　or　the　books　her　mother　found　unsuitable　spirited　away　to　some　limbo　in　the　attic　。　。　。　after　half　a　year　of　that；　she　would　have　a　plete　nervous　breakdown。　And　her　mother　would　pat　her　hand　and　say　fortingly；　Although　it's　not　your　fault；　it's　all　your　own　fault。　You　were　never　ready。　You　showed　your　true　colors　when　you　came　between　your　father　and　me。
　　My　father；　Danny's　father。　Mine；　his。
　　（Who　giveth　this　woman？　I　do。　Dead　of　a　heart　attack　six　months　later。）　The　night　before　that　morning　she　had　lain　awake　almost　until　he　came　in；　thinking；　ing　to　her　decision。
　　The　divorce　was　necessary；　she　told　herself。　Her　mother　and　father　didn't　belong　in　the　decision。　Neither　did　her　feelings　of　guilt　over　their　marriage　nor　her　feelings　of　inadequacy　over　her　own。　It　was　necessary　for　her　son's　sake；　and　for　herself；　if　she　was　to　salvage　anything　at　all　from　her　early　adulthood。　The　handwriting　on　the　wall　was　brutal　but　clear。　Her　husband　was　a　lush。　He　had　a　bad　temper；　one　he　could　no　longer　keep　wholly　under　control　now　that　he　was　drinking　so　heavily　and　his　writing　was　going　so　badly。　Accidentally　or　not　accidentally；　he　had　broken　Danny's　arm。　He　was　going　to　lose　his　job；　if　not　this　year　then　the　year　after。　Already　she　had　noticed　the　sympathetic　looks　from　the　other　faculty　wives。　She　told　herself　that　she　had　stuck　with　the　messy　job　of　her　marriage　for　as　long　as　she　could。　Now　she　would　have　to　leave　it。
　　Jack　could　have　full　visitation　rights；　and　she　would　want　support　from　him　only　until　she　could　find　something　and　get　on　her　feet…and　that　would　have　to　be　fairly　rapidly　because　she　didn't　know　how　long　Jack　would　be　able　to　pay　support　money。　She　would　do　it　with　as　little　bitterness　as　possible。　But　it　had　to　end。
　　So　thinking；　she　had　fallen　off　into　her　own　thin　and　unrestful　sleep；　haunted　by　the　faces　of　her　own　mother　and　father。　You're　nothing　but　a　home…wrecker；　her　mother　said。　Who　giveth　this；　woman？　the　minister　said。　I　do；　her　father　said。　But　in　the　bright　and　sunny　morning　she　felt　the　same。　Her　back　to　him；　her　hands　plunged　in　warm　dishwater　up　to　the　wrists；　she　had　menced　with　the　unpleasantness。
　　〃I　want　to　talk　to　you　about　something　that　might　be　best　for　Danny　and　I。　For　you　too；　maybe。　We　should　have　talked　about　it　before；　I　guess。〃　And　then　he　had　said　an　odd　thing。　She　had　expected　to　discover　his　anger；　to　provoke　the　bitterness；　the　recriminations。　She　had　expected　a　mad　dash　for　the　liquor　cabinet。　But　not　this　soft；　almost　toneless　reply　that　was　so　unlike　him。
　　It　was　almost　as　though　the　Jack　she　had　lived　with　for　six　years　had　never　e　back　last　night…as　if　he　had　been　replaced　by　some　unearthly　doppelganger　that　she　would　never　know　or　be　quite　sure　of。
　　〃Would　you　do　something　for　me？　A　favor？〃
　　〃What？〃　She　had　to　discipline　her　voice　strictly　to　keep　it　from　trembling。
　　〃Let's　talk　about　it　in　a　week。　If　you　still　want　to〃　And　she　had　agreed。　It　remained　unspoken　between　them。　During　that　week　he　had　seen　Al　Shockley　more　than　ever；　but　he　came　home　early　and　there　was　no　liquor　on　his　breath。　She　imagined　she　smelled　it；　but　knew　it　wasn't　so。　Another　week。
　　And　another。
　　Divorce　went　back　to　mittee；　unvoted　on。
　　What　had　happened？　She　still　wondered　and　still　had　not　the　slightest　idea。
　　The　subject　was　taboo　between　them。　He　was　like　a　man　who　had　leaned　around　a　corner　and　had　seen　an　unexpected　monster　lying　in　wait；　crouching　among　the　dried　bones　of　its　old　kills。　The　liquor　remained　in　the　cabinet；　but　he　didn't　touch　it。　She　had　considered　throwing　them　out　a　dozen　times　but　in　the　end　always　backed　away　from　the　idea；　as　if　some　unknown　charm　would　be　broken　by　the　act。
　　And　there　was　Danny's　part　in　it　to　consider。
　　If　she　felt　she　didn't　know　her　husband；　then　she　was　in　awe　of　her　child…awe　in　the　strict　meaning　of　that　word：　a　kind　of　undefined　superstitious　dread。
　　Dozing　lightly；　the　image　of　the　instant　of　his　birth　was　presented　to　her。
　　She　was　again　lying　on　the　delivery　table；　bathed　in　sweat；　her　hair　in　strings；　her　feet　splayed　out　in　the　stirrups　（and　a　little　high　from　the　gas　they　kept　giving　her　whiffs　of；　at　one　point　she　had　muttered　that　she　felt　like　an　advertisement　for　gang　rape；　and　the　nurse；　an　old　bird　who　had　assisted　at　the　births　of　enough　children　to　populate　a　high　school；　found　that　extremely　funny）　the　doctor　between　her　legs；　the　nurse　off　to　one　side；　arranging　instruments　and　humming。　The　sharp；　glassy　pains　had　been　ing　at　ste