stephen king - mist-第4章

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　The　huge　old　pine　that　had　guarded　our　boat　cove　had　been　sheared　off　halfway　up。　What　was　left　looked　like　a　brutally　sharpened　pencil；　and　the　inside　of　the　tree　seemed　a　glistening　and　defenseless　white　against　the　age…and…weatherdarkened　outer　bark。　A　hundred　feet　of　tree；　the　old　pine's　top　half；　lay　partly　submerged　in　our　shallow　cove。　it　occurred　to　me　that　we　were　very　lucky　our　little　Star…Cruiser　wasn't　sunk　underneath　it。　The　week　before；　it　had　developed　engine　trouble　and　it　was　still　at　the　Naples　marina；　patiently　waiting　its　turn。
　On　the　other　side　of　our　little　piece　of　shorefront；　the　boathouse　my　father　had　built…the　boathouse　that　had　once　housed　a　sixty…foot　Chris…Craft　when　the　Drayton　family　fortunes　had　been　at　a　higher　mark　than　they　were　today　…　lay　under　another　big　tree。　It　was　the　one　that　had　stood　on　Norton's　side　of　the　property　line；　I　saw。　That　raised　the　first　flush　of　anger。　The　tree　had　been　dead　for　five　years　and　he　should　have　long　since　had　it　taken　down。　Now　it　was　three…quarters　of　the　way　down；　our　boathouse　was　propping　it　up。　The　roof　had　taken　on　a　drunken；　swaybacked　look。　The　wind　had　swirled　shingles　from　the　hole　the　tree　had　made　all　over　the　point　of　land　the　boathouse　stood　on。　Billy's　description；　〃bashed；〃　was　as　good　as　any。
　〃That's　Norton's　tree！〃　Steff　said。　And　she　said　it　with　such　hurt　indignation　that　I　had　to　smile　in　spite　of　the　pain　I　felt。　The　flagpole　was　lying　in　the　water　and　Old　Glory　floated　soggily　beside　it　in　a　tangle　of　lanyard。　And　I　could　imagine　Norton's　response：　Sue　me。
　Billy　was　on　the　rock　breakwater；　examining　the　dock　that　had　washed　up　on　the　stones。　It　was　painted　in　jaunty　blue　and　yellow　stripes。　He　looked　back　over　his　shoulder　at　us　and　yelled　gleefully；　〃It's　the　Martinses'；　isn't　it？〃
　〃　Yeah；　it　is；〃　I　said。　〃Wade　in　and　fish　the　flag　out；　would　you；　Big　Bill？〃
　〃Sure！〃
　To　the　right　of　the　breakwater　was　a　small　sandy　beach。　In　1941；　before　Pearl　Harbor　paid　off　the　Great　Depression　in　blood；　my　dad　hired　a　man　to　truck　in　that　fine　beach　sand…six　dumptrucks　full…and　to　spread　it　out　to　a　depth　that　is　about　nipple…high　on　me；　say　five　feet。　The　workman　charged　eighty　bucks　for　the　job；　and　the　sand　has　never　moved。　just　as　well；　you　know；　you　can't　put　a　sandy　beach　in　on　your　land　now。　Now　that　the　sewerage　runoff　from　the　booming　cottage…building　industry　has　killed　most　of　the　fish　and　made　the　rest　of　them　unsafe　to　eat；　the　EPA　has　forbidden　installing　sand　beaches。　They　might　upset　the　ecology　of　the　lake；　you　see；　and　it　is　presently　against　the　law　for　anyone　except　land　developers　to　do　that。
　Billy　went　for　the　flag　…　then　stopped。　At　the　same　moment　I　felt　Steff　go　rigid　against　me；　and　I　saw　it　myself。　The　Harrison　side　of　the　lake　was　gone。　It　had　been　buried　under　a　line　of　bright…white　mist；　like　a　fair…weather　cloud　fallen　to　earth。
　My　dream　of　the　night　before　recurred；　and　when　Steff　asked　me　what　it　was；　the　word　that　nearly　jumped　first　from　my　mouth　was　God。
　〃David？〃
　You　couldn't　see　even　a　hint　of　the　shoreline　over　there；　but　years　of　looking　at　Long　Lake　made　me　believe　that　the　shoreline　wasn't　hidden　by　much；　only　yards；　maybe。　The　edge　of　the　mist　was　nearly　ruler…straight。
　〃What　is　it；　Dad？〃　Billy　yelled。　He　was　in　the　water　up　to　his　knees；　groping　for　the　soggy　flag。
　〃Fogbank；〃　I　said。
　〃On　the　lake？〃　Steff　asked　doubtfully；　and　I　could　see　Mrs。　Carmody's　influence　in　her　eyes。　Damn　the　woman。
　My　own　moment　of　unease　was　passing。　Dreams；　after　all；　are　insubstantial　things；　like　mist　itself。
　〃Sure。　You've　seen　fog　on　the　lake　before。〃
　〃Never　like　that。　That　looks　more　like　a　cloud。〃
　〃It's　the　brightness　of　the　sun；〃　I　said。　〃It's　the　same　way　clouds　look　from　an　airplane　when　you　fly　over　them。〃
　〃What　would　do　it？　We　only　get　fog　in　damp　weather。　〃
　〃No；　we've　got　it　right　now；〃　I　said。　〃Harrison　does；　anyway。　It's　a　little　leftover　from　the　storm；　that's　all。　Two　fronts　meeting。　Something　along　that　line。〃
　〃David；　are　you　sure？〃
　I　laughed　and　hauled　my　arm　around　her　neck。　〃No；　actually；　I'm　bullshitting　like　crazy。　If　I　was　sure；　I'd　be　doing　the　weather　on　the　six…o'clock　news。　Go　on　and　make　your　shopping　list。〃
　She　gave　me　one　more　doubtful　glance；　looked　at　the　fogbank　for　a　moment　or　two　with　the　flat　of　her　hand　held　up　to　shade　her　eyes；　and　then　shook　her　head。　〃Weird；〃　she　said；　and　walked　away。
　For　Billy；　the　mist　had　lost　its　novelty。　He　had　fished　the　flag　and　a　tangle　of　lanyard　out　of　the　water。　We　spread　it　on　the　lawn　to　dry。
　〃I　heard　it　was　wrong　to　ever　let　the　flag　touch　the　ground；　Daddy；〃　he　said　in　a　businesslike；　let's…get…this…out…of…the…way　tone。
　〃Yeah？〃
　〃Yeah。　Victor　McAllister　says　they　lectercute　people　for　it。〃
　〃Well；　you　tell　Vic　he's　full　of　what　makes　the　grass　grow　green。〃
　〃Horseshit；　right？〃　Billy　is　a　bright　boy；　but　oddly　humorless。　To　the　champ；　everything　is　serious　business。　I'm　hoping　that　he'll　live　long　enough　to　learn　that　in　this　world　that　is　a　very　dangerous　attitude。
　〃Yeah；　right；　but　don't　tell　your　mother　I　said　so。　When　the　flag's　dry；　we'll　put　it　away。　We'll　even　fold　it　into　a　cocked　hat；　so　we'll　be　on　safe　ground　there。〃
　〃Daddy；　will　we　fix　the　boathouse　roof　and　get　a　new　flagpole？〃　For　the　first　time　he　looked　anxious。　He'd　maybe　had　enough　destruction　for　a　while。
　I　clapped　him　on　the　shoulder。　〃You're　damn　tooting。〃
　〃Can　I　go　over　to　the　Bibbers'　and　see　what　happened　there？〃
　〃Just　for　a　couple　of　minutes。　They'll　be　cleaning　up；　too；　and　sometimes　that　makes　people　feel　a　little　ugly。〃　The　way　I　presently　felt　about　Norton。
　〃Okay。　Bye！〃　He　was　off。
　〃Stay　out　of　their　way；　champ。　And　Billy？〃
　He　glanced　back。
　〃Remember　about　the　live　wires。　If　you　see　more；　steer　clear　of　them。〃
　〃Sure；　Dad。〃
　I　stood　there　for　a　moment；　first　surveying　the　damage；　then　glancing　out　at　the　mist　again。　It　seemed　closer；　but　it　was　very　hard　to　tell　for　sure。　If　it　was　closer；　it　was　defying　all　the　laws　of　nature；　because　the　wind　…　a　very　gentle　breeze…was　against　it。　That；　of　course；　was　patently　impossible。　It　was　very；　very　white。　The　only　thing　I　can　pare　it　to　would　be　fresh…fallen　snow　lying　in　dazzling　contrast　to　the　deep…blue　brilliance　of　the　winter　sky。　But　snow　reflects　hundreds　and　hundreds　of　diamond　points　in　the　sun；　and　this　peculiar　fogbank；　although　bright　and　clean…looking；　did　not　sparkle。　in　spite　of　what　Steff　had　said；　mist　isn't　unmon　on　clear　days；　but　when　there's　a　lot　of　it；　the　suspended　moisture　almost　always　causes　a　rainbow。　But　there　was　no　rainbow　here。
　The　unease　was　back；　tugging　at　me；　but　before　it　could　deepen　I　heard　a　low；　mechanical　sound　…　whut…whut…whut！　…followed　by　a　barely　audible　〃Shit！〃　The　mechanical　sound　was　repeated；　but　this　time　there　was　no　oath。　The　third　time　the　chuffing　sound　was　followed　by　〃Mother…　fuck！〃　in　the　same　low　I'm…all…by…myself…but…boy…am…I…pissed　tone。
　Whut…whut…whut…whut
　…Silence
　…then：　〃You　cunt。〃
　I　began　to　grin。　Sound　carries　well　out　here；　and　all　the　buzzing　chainsaws　were　fairly　distant。　Distant　enough　for　me　to　recognize　the　not…so…dulcet　tones　of　my　next…door　neighbor；　the　renowned　lawyer　and　lakefront…property…owner；　Brenton　Norton。
　I　moved　down　a　little　closer　to　the　water；　pretending　to　stroll　toward　the　dock　beached　on　our　breakwater。　Now　I　could　see　Norton。　He　was　in　the　clearing　beside　his　screened…in　porch；　standing　on　a　carpet　of　old　pine　needles　and　dressed　in　paint…spotted　jeans　and　a　white　strappy　T…shirt。　His　forty…dollar　haircut　was　in　disarray　and　sweat　poured　down　his　face。　He　was　down　on　one　knee；　laboring　over　his　own　chainsaw。　It　was　much　bigger　and　fancier　than　my　little　79。95　Value　House　job。　It　seemed　to　have　everything；　in　fact；　but　a　starter　button。　He　was　yanking　a　cord；　producing　the　listless　whut…whut…whut　sounds　and　nothing　more。　I　was　gladdened　in　my　heart　to　see　that　a　yellow　birch　had　fallen　across　his　picnic　table　and　smashed　it　in　two。
　Norton　gave　a　tremendous　yank　on　the　starter　cord
　Whut…whut…whutwhutwhut…WHAT！WHAT！WHAT！　。。。　WHAT！　。。。　Whut。
　Almost　had　it　there　for　a　minute；　fella。
　Another　Herculean　tug。
　Whut…