sk.theshining-第33章
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。 His eyes； circled with the white of shock； looked at Jack reproachfully。
〃Daddy； you said you killed them all。 My hand 。 。 。 it really hurts。〃
〃Let's see it； doe 。 。 。 no； I'm not going to touch it。 That would make it hurt even more。 Just hold it out。〃 He did and Wendy moaned。 〃Oh Danny 。 。 。 oh； your poor hand！〃 Later the doctor would count eleven separate stings。 Now all they saw was a dotting of small holes； as if his palm and fingers had been sprinkled with grains of red pepper。 The swelling was bad。 His hand had begun to look like one of those cartoon images where Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck had just slammed himself with a hammer。
〃Wendy； go get that spray stuff in the bathroom；〃 he said。
She went after it； and he sat down next to Danny and slipped an arm around his shoulders。
〃After we spray your hand； I want to take some Polaroids of it； doc。 Then you sleep the rest of the night with us； Tay？〃
〃Sure；〃 Danny said。 〃But why are you going to take pictures？〃
〃So maybe we can sue the ass out of some people。〃 Wendy came back with a spray tube in the shape of a chemical fire extinguisher。
〃This won't hurt； honey；〃 she said； taking off the cap。
Danny held out his hand and she sprayed both sides until it gleamed。 He let out a long； shuddery sigh。
〃Does it smart？〃 she asked。
〃No。 Feels better。〃
〃Now these。 Crunch them up。〃 She held out five orangeflavored baby aspirin。
Danny took them and popped them into his mouth one by one。
〃Isn't that a lot of aspirin？〃 Jack asked。
〃It's a lot of stings；〃 she snapped at him angrily。 〃You go and get rid of that nest； John Torrance。 Right now。〃
〃Just a minute。〃 He went to the dresser and took his Polaroid Square Shooter out of the top drawer。 He rummaged deeper and found some flashcubes。
〃Jack； what are you doing？〃 she asked； a little hysterically。
〃He's gonna take some pictures of my hand；〃 Danny said gravely； 〃and then we're gonna sue the ass out of some people。 Right； Dad？〃
〃Right；〃 Jack said grimly。 He had found the flash attachment； and he jabbed it onto the camera。 〃Hold it out； son。 I figure about five thousand dollars a sting。〃
〃What are you talking about？〃 Wendy nearly screamed。
〃I'll tell you what；〃 he said。 〃I followed the directions on that fucking bug bomb。 We're going to sue them。 The damn thing was defective。 Had to have been。
How else can you explain this？〃
〃Oh；〃 she said in a small voice。
He took four pictures； pulling out each covered print for Wendy to time on the small locket watch she wore around her neck。 Danny； fascinated with the idea that his stung hand might be worth thousands and thousands of dollars； began to lose some of his fright and take an active interest。 The hand throbbed dully； and he had a small headache。
When Jack had put the camera away and spread the prints out on top of the dresser to dry； Wendy said： 〃Should we take him to the doctor tonight？〃
〃Not unless he's really in pain；〃 Jack said。 〃If a person has a strong allergy to wasp venom； it hits within thirty seconds。〃
〃Hits？ What do you…〃
〃A a。 Or convulsions。〃
〃Oh。 Oh my Jesus。〃 She cupped her hands over her elbows and hugged herself； looking pale and wan。
〃How do you feel； son？ Think you could sleep？〃 Danny blinked at them。 The nightmare had faded to a dull； featureless background in his mind； but he was still frightened。
〃If I can sleep with you。〃
〃Of course；〃 Wendy said。 〃Oh honey； I'm so sorry。〃
〃It's okay； Mommy。〃 She began to cry again； and Jack put his hands on her shoulders。 〃Wendy； I swear to you that I followed the directions。〃
〃Will you get rid of it in the morning？ Please？〃
〃Of course I will。〃 The three of them got in bed together； and Jack was about to snap off the light over the bed when he paused and pushed the covers back instead。 〃Want a picture of the nest； too。〃
〃e right back。〃
〃I will。〃 He went to the dresser； got the camera and the last flashcube； and gave Danny a closed thumb…and…forefinger circle。 Danny smiled and gave it back with his good hand。
Quite a kid he thought as he walked down to Danny's room。 All of that and then some。
The overhead was still on。 Jack crossed to the bunk setup； and as he glanced at the table beside it； his skin crawled into goose flesh。 The short hairs on his neck prickled and tried to stand erect。
He could hardly see the nest through the clear Pyrex bowl。 The inside of the glass was crawling with wasps。 It was hard to tell how many。 Fifty at least。
Maybe a hundred。
His heart thudding slowly in his chest； he took his pictures and then set the camera down to wait for them to develop。 He wiped his lips with the palm of his hand。 One thought played over and over in his mind； echoing with （You lost your temper。 You lost your temper。 You lost your temper。） an almost superstitious dread。 They had e back。 He had killed the wasps but they had e back。
In his mind he heard himself screaming into his frightened； crying son's face： Don't stutter/ He wiped his lips again。
He went to Danny's worktable； rummaged in its drawers； and came up with a big jigsaw puzzle with a fiberboard backing。 He took it over to the bedtable and carefully slid the bowl and the nest onto it。 The wasps buzzed angrily inside their prison。 Then； putting his hand firmly on top of the bowl so it wouldn't slip； he went out into the hall。
〃ing to bed； Jack？〃 Wendy asked。
〃ing to bed； Daddy？〃
〃Have to go downstairs for a minute；〃 he said； making his voice light。
How had it happened？ How in God's name？
The bomb sure hadn't been a dud。 He had seen the thick white smoke start to puff out of it when he had pulled the ring。 And when he had gone up two hours later； he had shaken a drift of small dead bodies out of the hole in the top。
Then how？ Spontaneous regeneration？
That was crazy。 Seventeenth…century bullshit。 Insects didn't regenerate。 And even if wasp eggs could mature full…grown insects in twelve hours； this wasn't the season in which the queen laid。 That happened in April or May。 Fall was their dying time。
A living contradiction； the wasps buzzed furiously under the bowl。
He took them downstairs and through the kitchen。 In back there was a door which gave on the outside。 A cold night wind blew against his nearly naked body； and his feet went numb almost instantly against the cold concrete of the platform he was standing on； the platform where milk deliveries were made during the hotel's operating season。 He put the puzzle and the bowl down carefully； and when he stood up he looked at the thermometer nailed outside the door。 FRESH UP WITH 7…up； the thermometer said； and the mercury stood at an even twenty…five degrees。 The cold would kill them by morning。 He went in and shut the door firmly。 After a moment's thought he locked it； too。
He crossed the kitchen again and shut off the lights。 He stood in the darkness for a moment； thinking； wanting a drink。 Suddenly the hotel seemed full of a thousand stealthy sounds： creakings and groans and the sly sniff of the wind under the eaves where more wasps' nests might be hanging like deadly fruit。
They had e back。
And suddenly he found that he didn't like the Overlook so well anymore； as if it wasn't wasps that had stung his son； wasps that had miraculously lived through the bug bomb assault； but the hotel itself。
His last thought before going upstairs to his wife and son （from now on you will hold your temper。 No Mattes What。） was firm and hard and sure。
As he went down the hall to them he wiped his lips with the back of his hand。
》
THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE
Stripped to his underpants； lying on the examination table； Danny Torrance looked very small。 He was looking up at Dr。 （〃Just call me Bill〃） Edmonds； who was wheeling a large black machine up beside him。 Danny rolled his eyes to get a better look at it。
〃Don't let it scare you； guy；〃 Bill Edmonds said。 〃It's an electroencephalograph； and it doesn't hurt。〃
〃Electro…〃
〃We call it EEG for short。 I'm going to hook a bunch of wires to your head… no； not stick them in； only tape them…and th
