rr.eastofealing-第26部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


ing　above。　'The　terrible　fat！'　He　tried　to　move　his　great　St　Paul's　dome　of　a　head；　but　it　seemed　to　be　wedged　tightly　into　an　upper　corner　of　the　tiny　hospital　room。　Painfully　he　struggled　and　shifted　until　he　was　able　to　peer　down　over　the　great　massed　army　of　himself　and　gauge　some　idea　of　how　the　land　lay。　It　lay　someway　distant　in　the　downwards　direction。　'OOOOOAAAAAAOOOOOOAAA。。。　UH；'　moaned　Neville。　'Worse；　much　worse。'
　A　sudden　sound　distracted　him　from　his　misery；　somewhere　beneath　his　spreading　bulk　and　slightly　to　one　side；　a　door　appeared　to　be　opening。　From　his　eyrie　above　the　picture…rail　Neville　watched　a　minuscule　nurse　enter　the　already　crowded　room。
　'And　how　are　we　today？'　asked　this　fairy　person。
　'We？'　Neville's　voice　arose　in　desperation。　'You　mean　that　there　is　more　than　one　of　me　now？'
　'No；　no。'　The　tiny　nurse　held　up　a　pair　of　doll…like　hands。　'You　are　doing　very　well；　making　good　progress；　great　signs　of　improvement；　nothing　to　fear。'
　Neville　now　noticed　to　his　increasing　horror　that　the　midget　was　brandishing　a　hypodermic　syringe。　Which；　although　perched　between　her　tiddly　digits　like　a　Christmas　cracker　fag…holder；　looked　none　the　less　as　threatening　as　any　of　the　others　he　had　recently　experienced　at　hind　quarters。
　'Time　for　your　daily　jab；　roll　over　please。'
　'Roll　over？　Are　you　mad；　woman？'　Neville　wobbled　his　jowls　down　at　the　nurse。
　The　woman　smiled　up　at　him。　'e　on　now；　sir；'　she　wheedled。　'We're　not　going　to　throw　one　of　our　little　tantrums　now；　are　we？'
　If　Neville　could　have　freed　one　of　his　feet；　possibly　the　one　which　was　now　wedged　above　the　curtain…rail　surrounding　his　bed；　he　would　have　happily　stamped　the　tiny　nurse　to　an　omelette。
　'e　on　now；　sir；　roly…poly。'
　'Crunch　crunch；'　went　Neville。　'Fe。。。　Fi。。。　Fo。。。　Fum。。。'
　'Don't　start　all　that　again；　sir。　I　shall　have　to　call　for　doctor。'
　'Crunch。。。　splat。'　Neville　struggled　to　free　a　foot；　or　anything。
　'You　leave　me　no　choice；　then。'　The　tiny　nurse　left　the　room；　slamming　the　door　behind　her。
　Neville　rubbed　his　nose　upon　the　ceiling。　How　long　had　he　been　here？　Days？　Months？　Years？　He　really　had　no　idea。　What　were　they　doing　to　him？　Pumping　him　full　of　drugs　to　keep　him　sedated？　What？　He　had　known　all　along　that　it　was　a　conspiracy；　but　what　were　they　up　to？　They　had　blown　him　up　like　a　blimp　for　their　own　foul　ends。　Probably　for　some　vile　new　hormone　research　designed　to　increase　the　bacon　yield　from　porker　pigs。　It　was　the　Illuminati；　or　the　masons；　or　the　Moonies　or　some　suchlike　sinister　outfit。　Just　because　he　was　slightly　paranoid；　it　didn't　mean　they　weren't　out　to　get　him。
　And　far　worse　even；　what　was　happening　at　the　Swan？　That　defrocked　Matelot　Croughton　would　have　his　hand　in　the　till　up　to　the　armpit。　The　beer　would　be　flat　and　the　ashtrays　full。　There　was　even　the　possibility　of　after…hours　drinking；　Omally　would　see　to　that。　He　was　probably　even　downing　pints　on　credit　at　this　very　moment。　It　was　all　too　much。　He　must　escape；　if　only　to　save　his　reputation。　Neville　twisted　and　turned　in　his　confinement；　a　latterday　Alice　tormented　in　a　sterilized　doll's　house。
　The　door　of　the　room　flew　open　beneath　him　and　the　nurse　re…entered；　acpanied　by　a　pale　young　doctor　in　headphones。　As　Neville　watched　in　fearful　anticipation；　he　withdrew　from　his　belt　a　small　black　device　bristling　with　a　pair　of　slim　metallic　rods。　'We　are　being　naughty　again；'　he　said；　clearing　his　throat　with　a　curiously　mechanical　coughing　sound　and　arming　the　mechanism。　'Will　we　never　learn？'
　Neville　the　part…time　barman　turned　up　his　eyes　and　gritted　his　teeth；　'Fe。。。Fi。。。Fo。。。'
　The　pale　young　man　stepped　forward　and　applied　the　electrodes　to　Neville's　groin。　A　mind…rending　shock　of　raw　pain；　tore　the　captive　barman's　nerve　endings　to　a　million　ribbons　and　he　sank　once　more　from　consciousness　into　a　blinding　red　haze　of　dumb　agony。
　
　23
　The　afflicted　sun　swung　slowly　into　the　Brentford　sky；　illuminating　a　parish　which　seemed　already　very　much　on　the　go。　There　were　now　none　of　the　customary　morning…tide　grumblings　and　plaints　which　greeted　the　arrival　of　each　new　day。　Here　were　lads　leaping　to　their　feet　anxious　to　continue　their　labours；　and　their　labours　as　ever　centred　upon　the　forthing　Festival　of　Brentford。　Barefooted　children　already　pranced　stiff…leggedly　about　the　maypoles　set　upon　the　Butts。　The　sounds　of　hammering　and　nailing　echoed　in　the　streets　as　the　great　floats　were　being　hobbled　into　shape　in　myriad　back　to　backs。　The　borough　was　obsessed　by　the　approaching　event；　but　the　whys　and　the　wherefores　were　misty　businesses　not　lightly　dwelt　upon。
　John　and　Jim　slumbered　amongst　the　potato　sacks　beneath　a　corrugated　iron　lean…to；　sleeping　the　blessed　sleep　of　the　Bacchanalian。　Professor　Slobe　toiled　with　book　and　abacus；　and　Sherlock　Holmes　crept　over　a　distant　rooftop；　magnifying　glass　in　hand。　Norman　of　the　corner　shop　tinkered　with　Alien　key　and　soldering　iron　upon　the　project　of　his　own　conception；　and　Old　Pete　with　Chips　at　heel　made　his　way　along　the　Baling　Road；　cursing　bitterly。　Neville　slept　in　a　netherworld　of　force…fed　suppressants；　dreaming　escape　and　revenge。　The　old　gods　slept　also；　but　the　morning　of　the　magicians　was　not　far　from　the　dawning。
　'Things　are　certainly　not　what　they　used　to　be　in　Brentford；'　groaned　Jim　Pooley。
　The　allotments　being　something　of　a　parish　nature　reserve；　the　over…abundance　of　hearty　birdsong　tore　the　million…dollar　bum　and　his　Irish　panion　grudgingly　from　the　arms　of　good　old　munificent　Morpheus。　Jim　emerged　from　beneath　his　corrugated　iron　four…poster　and　grimaced　at　the　world　to　be。　He　shushed　at　the　feathered　choristers　and　counselled　silence。　'Before　I　was　rich；'　he　said；　tapping　at　his　skull　in　the　hope　of　restoring　some　order；　'before　I　was　rich；　I　rarely　took　up　a　night's　lodgings　upon　the　allotments。'
　A　woebegone　face　emerged　from　the　lean…to；　the　sight　silencing　the　birdies　in　a　manner　which　normally　it　would　have　taken　a　twelve…bore　to　do。　The　godforsaken　thing　that　was　John　Omally　was　far　better　kept　from　the　gaze　of　children　or　the　faint　of　heart。　'Morning；　Jim；'　said　he。
　Pooley　caught　sight　of　the　facial　devastation。　'Put　that　back　for　your　own　sake；'　he　advised。　'I　should　not　wish　to　e　to　close　quarters　with　an　article　such　as　that　until　far　starboard　of　breakfast　time。'
　Omally's　stomach　made　a　repulsive　sound。　'Now　breakfast　would　indeed　be　your　man；'　he　said；　taking　his　ravaged　features　back　into　the　darkness。　The　birdsong　welled　forth　anew。
　'Shut　up；'　bawled　Pooley；　clutching　his　skull。　The　birdies　put　the　proverbial　sock　in　it。
　'Shall　we　try　the　Professor　for　a　slice　or　two　of　toast？'　Jim　asked。
　'Definitely　not；'　a　voice　called　back　from　the　darkness。　'I　have　no　wish　to　see　that　good　gentleman　again。　Buy　me　back　my　introduction　please；　Jim。　I　will　owe　you。'
　'I　can　lend　you　a　quid；　John；　but　no　more。'
　'Let　us　go　round　and　impose　upon　Norman。　He　is　currently　at　a　disadvantage。　A　bit　of　pany　will　do　him　no　harm。'
　Pooley　rubbed　at　his　forehead　and　did　a　bit　of　hopeless　eye　focusing。　'All　right；'　he　said；　'but　if　he　starts　to　part　the　bacon　with　his　left　hand　then　I　am　having　it　away　on　my　toes。'
　Omally's　face　appeared　once　more　in　the　light。　This　time　it　had　been　translated　into　the　one　worn　by　his　normal　self。
　'You　have　remarkable　powers　of　recuperation；　John；'　said　Jim。
　'I　am　a　Dubliner。'
　'But　of　course。'
　The　two　men　tucked　in　their　respective　shirt…tails　and　strolled　as　best　they　could　over　the　allotments；　through　the　gates；　and　off　up　the　Albany　Road。　A　hundred　or　so　yards　behind　them　another　Pooley　and　Omally　fell　into　step　and　did　likewise。
　'You　were　saying　last　night；'　said　Jim；　as　they　reached　Moby　Dick　Terrace；　'although　I　should　not　broach　the　subject　so　early　in　the　morning；　something　about　reaching　a　decision？'
　'Oh　yes；'　John　thrust　out　his　chest　and　made　some　attempt　to　draw　in　breath。　'My　mind　is　made　up；　I　have　the　thing　figured。'
　'And　as　to　this　particular　plan。　Is　it　kosher　and　above　board　or　is　it　the　well…intentioned　codswallop　of　the　truly　banjoed？'
　'I　had　a　drink　on　me；　truly。　But　in　no　way　did　it　affect　my　reason。'
　Now　fifty　yards　behind；　the　other　Pooley　and　Omally　marched　purposefully　on　in　perfect　step；　their　faces　staring　ever　ahead。
　'So　tell　me　all　about　it　then；　John。'
　Omally　tapped　at　his　nose。　'All　in　good　time。　Let　us　get　some　brekky　under　our　belts　first。'
　As　they　rounded　the　corner　into　Haling　Road　they　saw　Old　Pete　approaching；　cursing　and　swearing；　his　daily　paper　jammed　beneath　his　arm。　Young　Chips　followed；　marking　the　lampposts　for　his　own。　The　elder　hobbled　on；　and　as　he　caught　sight　of　John　and　Jim　he　grunted　a　half…hearted　'good　morning'。　As　they　all　but　drew　level　the　old　man　suddenly　dropped　his　paper　and　raised　his　stick。　He　stared　past　John　and　Jim　and　his　mouth　fell　open；　bringing　the　full　dental　horror　of　his　National　Healthers　into　hideous　prominence。　'G。。。　gawd；'　he　stammered；　'now　I　have　seen　it　all。'
　John　and　Jim　looked　at　one　another；　towards　the　gesturing　ancient；　and　finally　back　over　their　shoulders；　following　the　direction　of　his　confounded　gaze。　Bearing　down　upon　them　at　a　goodly　rate　of　knots　marched　their　perfect　doub