jg.skippingchristmas-第20部分

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hat　the　Kranks　were　planning　a　last…minute　party　for　Christmas　Eve；　but　nobody　wanted　to　e。　He　couldn't　determine　the　reason　for　the　party；　or　why　it　was　being　put　together　so　hastily；　primarily　because　Mr。　Krank　used　the　phone　in　the　kitchen　and　kept　his　voice　low。　Mrs。　Krank　was　running　errands　and　calling　every　ten　minutes。
　Things　were　very　tense　down　at　the　Kranks；　according　to　Spike。
　Vic　called　Ned　Becker；　who'd　been　alerted　by　Walt　Scheel；　and　soon　the　three　of　them　were　on　a　conference　call；　with　Walt　and　Ned　maintaining　visual　contact　with　the　Krank　home。
　〃She　just　left　again；　in　a　hurry；〃　reported　Walt。　〃I've　never　seen　Nora　speed　away　so　fast。〃
　〃Where's　Luther？〃　asked　Frohmeyer。
　〃Still　inside；〃　answered　Walt。　〃Looks　like　they've　finished　with　the　tree。　Gotta　say；　I　liked　it　better　at　the　Trogdons'。〃
　〃Something's　going　on；〃　said　Ned　Becker。
　
　Nora　had　a　case　of　wine　in　her　shopping　cart；　six　bottles　of　red　and　six　bottles　of　white；　though　she　wasn't　sure　why　she　was　buying　so　much。　Who；　exactly；　was　going　to　drink　it　all？　Perhaps　she　would。　She'd　picked　out　the　expensive　stuff　too。　She　wanted　Luther　to　burn　when　he　got　the　bill。　All　this　money　they　were　going　to　save　at　Christmas；　and　look　at　the　mess　they　were　in。
　A　clerk　in　the　front　of　the　wine　shop　was　pulling；　the　blinds　and　locking　the　door。　The　lone　cashier　was　hustling　the　last　customers　through　the　line。　Three　people　were　ahead　of　Nora；　one　behind。　Her　cell　phone　rang　in　her　coat　pocket。　〃Hello；〃　she　half…whispered。
　〃Nora；　Doug　Zabriskie。〃
　〃Hello；　Father；〃　she　said；　and　began　to　go　limp。　His　voice　betrayed　him。
　〃We're　having　a　bit　of　a　problem　over　here；〃　he　began　sadly。　〃Typical　Christmas　Eve　chaos；　you　know；　everybody　running　in　different　directions。　And　Beth's　aunt　from　Toledo　just　dropped　in；　quite　unexpected；　and　made　things　worse。　I'm　afraid　it　will　be　impossible　to　stop　by　and　see　Blair　tonight。〃
　He　sounded　as　if　he　hadn't　seen　Blair　in　years。
　〃That's　too　bad；〃　Nora　managed　to　say　with　just　a　trace　of　passion。　She　wanted　to　curse　and　cry　at　the　same　time。　〃We'll　do　it　another　time。〃
　〃No　problem；　then？〃
　〃Not　at　all；　Father。〃
　They　signed　off　with　Merry　Christmases　and　such；　and　Nora　bit　her　quivering　lip。　She　paid　for　the　wine；　then　hauled　it　half　a　mile　to　her　car；　grumbling　about　her　husband　every　heavy　step　of　the　way。　She　hiked　to　a　Kroger；　fought　her　way　through　a　mob　in　the　entrance；　and　trudged　down　the　aisles　in　search　of　caramels。
　She　called　Luther；　and　no　one　answered。　He'd　better　be　up　on　the　roof。
　They　met　in　front　of　the　peanut　butter；　both　seeing　each　other　at　the　same　time。　She　recognized　the　shock　of　red　hair；　the　orange…and…gray　beard；　and　the　little；　black；　round　eyeglasses；　but　she　couldn't　think　of　his　name。　He；　however；　said；　〃Merry　Christmas；　Nora；〃　immediately。
　〃And　Merry　Christmas　to　you；〃　she　said　with　a　quick；　warm　smile。　Something　bad　had　happened　to　his　wife；　either　she'd　died　from　some　disease　or　taken　off　with　a　younger　man。　They'd　met　a　few　years　earlier　at　a　ball；　black　tie；　she　thought。　Later；　she'd　heard　about　his　wife。　What　was　his　name？　Maybe　he　worked　at　the　university。　He　was　well　dressed；　in　a　cardigan　under　a　handsome　trench　coat。
　〃Why　are　you　out　running　around？〃　he　asked。　He　was　carrying　a　basket　with　nothing　in　it。
　〃Oh；　last…minute　stuff；　you　know。　And　you？〃　She　got　the　impression　he　was　doing　nothing　at　all；　that　he　was　out　with　the　hordes　just　for　the　sake　of　being　there；　that　he　was　probably　lonely。
　What　in　the　world　happened　to　his　wife？
　No　wedding　band　visible。
　〃Picking　up　a　few　things。　Big　meal　tomorrow；　huh？〃　he　asked；　glancing　at　the　peanut　butter。
　〃Tonight；　actually。　Our　daughter's　ing　in　from　South　America；　and　we're　putting　together　a　quick　little　party。〃
　〃Blair？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　He　knew　Blair！
　Jumping　off　a　cliff；　Nora　instinctively　said；　〃Why　don't　you　stop　by？〃
　〃You　mean　that？〃
　〃Oh　sure；　it's　a　e…and…go。　Lots　of　folks；　lots　of　good　food。〃　She　thought　of　the　smoked　trout　and　wanted　to　gag。　Surely　his　name　would　e　back　in　flash。
　〃What　time？〃　he　asked；　visibly　delighted。
　〃Earlier　the　better；　say　about　seven。〃
　He　glanced　at　his　watch。　〃Just　about　two　hours。〃
　Two　hours！　Nora　had　a　watch；　but　from　someone　else　the　time　sounded　so　awful。　Two　hours！　〃Oh　well；　gotta　run；〃　she　said。
　〃You're　on　Hemlock；〃　he　said。
　〃Yes。　Fourteen　seventy…eight。〃　Who　was　this　man？
　She　scampered　away；　practically　praying　that　his　name　would　e　roaring　back　from　somewhere。　She　found　the　caramels；　the　marshmallow　cream；　and　the　pie　shells。
　The　express　lane…ten　items　or　less…had　a　line　that　stretched　down　to　frozen　foods。　Nora　fell　in　with　the　rest；　barely　able　to　see　the　cashier；　unwilling　to　glance　at　her　watch；　teetering　on　the　edge　of　a　plete　and　total　surrender。
　
　
　Seventeen
　
　He　waited　as　long　as　he　could；　though　he　had　not　a　second　to　spare。　Darkness　would　hit　fast　at　five…thirty；　and　in　the　frenzy　of　the　moment　Luther　had　tucked　away　somewhere　the　crazy　notion　of　hanging　ole　Frosty　under　the　cover　of　darkness。　It　wouldn't　work；　and　he　knew　it；　but　rational　thought　was　hard　to　grasp　and　hold。
　He　spent　a　few　moments　planning　the　project。　An　attack　from　the　rear　of　the　house　was　mandatory…no　way　would　he　allow　Walt　Scheel　or　Vic　Frohmeyer　or　anybody　else　to　see　him　in　action。
　Luther　wrestled　Frosty　out　of　the　basement　without　injuring　either　one　of　them；　but　he　was　cursing　vigorously　by　the　time　they　made　it　to　the　patio。　He　hauled　the　ladder　from　the　storage　shed　in　the　backyard。　So　far　he　had　not　been　seen；　or　at　least　he　didn't　think　so。
　The　roof　was　slightly　wet　with　a　patch　of　ice　or　two。　And　it　was　much　colder　up　there。　With　a　quarter…inch　nylon　rope　tied　around　his　waist；　Luther　crawled　upward；　catlike　and　terrified；　over　the　asphalt　shingles　until　he　reached　the　summit。　He　peeked　over　the　crown　of　the　roof　and　peered　below…the　Scheels　were　directly　in　front　of　him；　way　down　there。
　He　looped　the　rope　around　the　chimney；　then　inched　back　down；　backward；　until　he　hit　a　patch　of　ice　and　slid　for　two　feet。　Catching　himself；　he　paused　and　allowed　his　heart　to　start　working　again。　He　looked　down　in　terror。　If　by　some　tragedy　he　fell；　he'd　free…fall　for　a　very　brief　flight；　then　land　among　the　metal　patio　furniture　sitting　on　hard　brick。　Death　would　not　be　instant；　no　sir。　He'd　suffer；　and　if　he　didn't　die　he'd　have　a　broken　neck　or　maybe　brain　damage。
　How　utterly　ridiculous。　A　Fifty…four…year…old　man　playing　games　like　this。
　The　most　horrifying　trick　of　all　was　to　remount　the　ladder　from　above；　which　he　managed　to　do　by　digging　his　fingernails　into　the　shingles　while　dangling　one　foot　at　a　time　over　the　gutter。　Back　on　the　ground；　he　took　a　deep　breath　and　congratulated　himself　for　surviving　the　first　trip　to　the　top　and　back。
　There　were　four　parts　to　Frosty…a　wide；　round　base；　then　a　snowball；　then　the　trunk　with　one　arm　waving　and　one　hand　on　hip；　then　the　head　with　his　smiling　face；　corncob　pipe；　and　black　top　hat。　Luther　grumbled　as　he　put　the　damned　thing　together；　snapping　one　plastic　section　into　another。　He　screwed　the　lightbulb　into　the　midsection；　plugged　in　the　eighty…foot　extension　cord；　hooked　the　nylon　rope　around　Frosty's　waist；　and　maneuvered　him　into　position　for　the　ride　up。
　It　was　a　quarter　to　five。　His　daughter　and　her　brand…new　fiancé　would　land　in　an　hour　and　fifteen　minutes。　The　drive　to　the　airport　took　twenty　minutes；　plus　more　for　parking；　shuttling；　walking；　pushing；　shoving。
　Luther　wanted　to　give　up　and　start　drinking。
　But　he　pulled　the　rope　tight　around　the　chimney；　and　Frosty　started　up。　Luther　climbed　with　him；　up　the　ladder；　worked　him　over　the　gutter　and　onto　the　shingles。　Luther　would　pull；　Frosty　would　move　a　little。　He　was　no　more　than　forty　pounds　of　hard　plastic　but　soon　felt　much　heavier。　Slowly；　they　made　their　way　up；　side　by　side；　Luther　on　all　fours；　Frosty　inching　along　on　his　back。
　Just　a　hint　of　darkness；　but　no　real　relief　from　the　skies。　Once　the　little　team　reached　the　crown；　Luther　would　be　exposed。　He'd　be　forced　to　stand　while　he　grappled　with　his　snowman　and　attached　him　to　the　front　of　the　chimney；　and　once　in　place；　illuminated　with　the　two…hundred…watt；　old　Frosty　would　join　his　forty…one　panions　and　all　of　Hemlock　would　know　that　Luther　had　caved。　So　he　paused　for　a　moment；　just　below　the　summit；　and　tried　to　tell　himself　that　he　didn't　care　what　his　neighbors　thought　or　said。　He　clutched　the　rope　that　held　Frosty；　rested　on　his　back　and　looked　at　the　clouds　above　him；　and　realized　he　was　sweating　and　freezing。　They　would　laugh；　and　snicker；　and　tell　Luther's　skipping　Christmas　story　for　years　to　e；　and　he'd　be　the　butt　of　the　jokes；　but　what　did　it　really　matter？
　Blair　would　be　happy。　Enrique　would　see　a　real　American　Christmas。　Nora　would　hopefully　be　placated。
　Then　he　thought　of　the　Island　Princess　casting　off　tomorrow　from　Miami；　minus　two　passengers；　headed　for　the　beaches　and　the　islands　Luther　had　been　lusting　for。
　He　felt　like　throwing　up。
　Walt　Scheel　had　been　in　the　kitchen；　where　Bev　was　finishing　a　pie；　and；　out　of　habit　now；　he　walked　to　his　front　window　to　observe　the　Krank　house。　Nothing；　at　first；　then