sk.theshining-第92章
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Plucking up her courage； she crossed to the batwings and pushed them open。 The smell of gin was so strong that her breath snagged in her throat。 It wasn't even right to call it a smell； it was a positive reek。 But the shelves were empty。
Where in God's name had he found it？ A bottle hidden at the back of one of the cupboards？ Where？
There was another groan； low and fuzzy； but perfectly audible this time。 Wendy walked slowly to the bar。
〃Jack？〃 No answer。
She looked over the bar and there he was； sprawled out on the floor in a stupor。 Drunk as a lord； by the smell。 He must have tried to go right over the top and lost his balance。 A wonder he hadn't broken his neck。 An old proverb recurred to her： God looks after drunks and little children。 Amen。
Yet she was not angry with him； looking down at him she thought be looked like a horribly overtired little boy who bad tried to do too much and had fallen asleep in the middle of the living room floor。 He had stopped drinking and it was not Jack who had made the decision to start again； there had been no liquor for him to start with 。 。 。 so where had it e from？
Resting at every five or six feet along the horseshoe…shaped bar there were wine bottles wrapped in straw； their mouths plugged with candles。 Supposed to look bohemian； she supposed。 She picked one up and shook it； half…expecting to hear the slosh of gin inside it （new wine in old bottles） but there was nothing。 She set it back down。
Jack was stirring。 She went around the bar； found the gate； and walked back on the inside to where Jack lay； pausing only to look at the gleaming chromium taps。 They were dry； but when she passed close to them she could smell beer； wet and new； like a fine mist。
As she reached Jack he rolled over； opened his eyes； and looked up at her。 For a moment his gaze was utterly blank； and then it cleared。
〃Wendy？〃 he asked。 〃That you？〃
〃Yes；〃 she said。 〃Do you think you can make it upstairs？ If you put your arms around me？ Jack； where did you…〃 His hand closed brutally around her ankle。
〃Jack！ What are you…〃
〃Gotcha！〃 he said； and began to grin。 There was a stale odor of gin and olives about him that seemed to set off an old terror in her； a worse terror than any hotel could provide by itself。 A distant part of her thought that the worst thing was that it had all e back to this； she and her drunken husband。
〃Jack； I want to help。〃
〃Oh yeah。 You and Danny only want to help。〃 The grip on her ankle was crushing now。 Still holding onto her； Jack was getting shakily to his knees。 〃You wanted to help us all right out of here。 But now 。 。 。 I 。 。 。 gotcha！〃
〃Jack； you're hurting my ankle…〃
〃I'll hurt more than your ankle； you bitch。〃 The word stunned her so pletely that she made no effort to move when he let go of her ankle and stumbled from his knees to his feet； where he stood swaying in front of her。
〃You never loved me；〃 he said。 〃You want us to leave because you know that'll be the end of me。 Did you ever think about my re 。 。 。 res 。 。 。
respons'bilities？ No； I guess to fuck you didn't。 All you ever think about is ways to drag me down。 You're just like my mother； you milksop bitch！〃
〃Stop it；〃 she said； crying。 〃You don't know what you're saying。 You're drunk。
I don't know how； but you're drunk。〃
〃Oh； I know。 I know now。 You and him。 That little pup upstairs。 The two of you； planning together。 Isn't that right？〃
〃No； no！ We never planned anything！ What are you…〃
〃You liarl〃 he screamed。 〃Oh； I know how you do it！ I guess I know that！ When I say； ‘We're going to stay here and I'm going to do my job；' you say； ‘Yes； dear；' and he says； ‘Yes； Daddy；' and then you lay your plans。 You planned to use the snowmobile。 You planned that。 But I knew。 I figured it out。 Did you think I wouldn't figure it out？ Did you think I was stupid？〃 She stared at him； unable to speak now。 He was going to kill her； and then he was going to kill Danny。 Then maybe the hotel would be satisfied and allow him to kill himself。 Just like that other caretaker。 Just like （Grady。） With almost swooning horror； she realized at last who it was that Jack had been conversing with in the ballroom。
〃You turned my son against me。 That was the worst。〃 His face sagged into lines of selfpity。 〃My little boy。 Now he hates me； too。 You saw to that。 That was your plan all along； wasn't it？ You've always been jealous； haven't you？ Just like your mother。 You couldn't be satisfied unless you had all the cake； could you？ Could you？〃 She couldn't talk。
〃Well； I'll fix you；〃 he said； and tried to put his hands around her throat。
She took a step backward； then another； and he stumbled against her。 She remembered the knife in the pocket of her robe and groped for it； but now his left arm had swept around her； pinning her arm against her side。 She could smell sharp gin and the sour odor of his sweat。
〃Have to be punished；〃 he was grunting。 〃Chastised。 Chastised 。 。 。 harshly。〃 His right hand found her throat。
As her breath stopped； pure panic took over。 His left hand joined his right and now the knife was free to her own hand； but she forgot about it。 Both of her hands came up and began to yank helplessly at his larger； stronger ones。
〃Mommy！〃 Danny shrieked from somewhere。 〃Daddy； stop！ You're hurting Mommyl〃 He screamed piercingly； a high and crystal sound that she heard from far off。
Red flashes of light leaped in front of her eyes like ballet dancers。 The room grew darker。 She saw her son clamber up on the bar and throw himself at Jack's shoulders。 Suddenly one of the hands that had been crushing her throat was gone as Jack cuffed Danny away with a snarl。 The boy fell back against the empty shelves and dropped to the floor； dazed。 The hand was on her throat again。 The red flashes began to turn black。
Danny was crying weakly。 Her chest was burning。 Jack was shouting into her face： 〃I'll fix you！ Goddam you； I'll show you who is boss around here！ I'll show you…〃 But all sounds were fading down a long dark corridor。 Her struggles began to weaken。 One of her hands fell away from his and dropped slowly until the arm was stretched out at right angles to her body； the hand dangling limply from the wrist like the hand of a drowning woman。
It touched a bottle…one of the straw…wrapped wine bottles that served as decorative candleholders。
Sightlessly； with the last of her strength； she groped for the bottle's neck and found it； feeling the greasy beads of wax against her hand。
（and U God if it slips） She brought it up and then down； praying for aim； knowing that if it only struck his shoulder or upper arm she was dead。
But the bottle came down squarely on Jack Torrance's head； the glass shattering violently inside the straw。 The base of it was thick and heavy； and it made a sound against his skull like a medicine ball dropped on a hardwood floor。 He rocked back on his heels； his eyes rolling up in their sockets。 The pressure on her throat loosened； then gave way entirely。 He put his hands out； as if to steady himself； and then crashed over on his back。
Wendy drew a long； sobbing breath。 She almost fell herself； clutched the edge of the bar； and managed to hold herself up。 Consciousness wavered in and out。
She could hear Danny crying； but she had no idea where he was。 It sounded like crying in an echo chamber。 Dimly she saw dime…sized drops of blood falling to the dark surface of the bar…from her nose； she thought。 She cleared her throat and spat on the floor。 It sent a wave of agony up the column of her throat； but the agony subsided to a steady dull press of pain 。 。 ； just bearable。
Little by little； she managed to get control of herself。
She let go of the bar； turned around； and saw Jack lying full…length； the shattered bottle beside him。 He looked like a felled giant。 Danny was crouched below the lounge's cash register； both hands in his mouth； staring at his unconscious father。
Wendy went to him unsteadily and touched his shoulder。 Danny cringed away from her。
〃Danny； listen to me…〃
〃No； no；〃 he muttered in a husky old man's voice。 〃Daddy hurt you 。 。 。 you hurt Dadd
