sk.dreamcatcher-第108部分

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　　　　Roberta　looked　at　it　…　at　Duddits　holding　it；　shifting　it　from　hand　to　hand　as　he　struggled　into　the　enormous　parka；　which　had　also　been　a　gift　from　the　Boston　Red　Sox。　His　face　was　unbelievably　pale　against　the　bright　blue　and　even　brighter　yellow　of　the　lunchbox。　'I　knew　he　was　going。　And　that　I　wasn't。'　Her　eyes　searched　Henry's　face。　'Please　may　I　not　go；　Henry？'
　　　　'If　you　do；　you　could　die　in　front　of　him；'　Henry　said　…　hating　the　cruelty　of　it；　also　hating　how　well　his　life's　work　had　prepared　him　to　push　the　right　buttons。　'Would　you　want　him　to　see　that；　Roberta？'
　　　　'No；　of　course　not。'　And；　as　an　afterthought；　hurting　him　all　the　way　to　the　center　of　his　heart：　'Damn　you。'
　　　　She　went　to　Duddits；　pushed　Owen　aside；　and　quickly　ran　up　her　son's　zip　per。　Then　she　took　him　by　the　shoulders；　pulled　him　down；　and　fixed　him　with　her　eyes。　Tiny；　fierce　little　bird　of　a　woman。　Tall；　pale　son；　floating　inside　his　parka。　Roberta　had　stopped　crying。
　　　　'You　be　good；　Duddie。'
　　　　'I　eee　ood；　Umma。'
　　　　'You　mind　Henry。'
　　　　'I…ill；　Umma。　I　ine　Ennie。'
　　　　'Stay　bundled　up。'
　　　　'I…ill。'
　　　　Still　obedient；　but　a　little　impatient　now；　wanting　to　be　off；　and　how　all　this　took　Henry　back：　trips　to　get　ice　cream；　trips　to　play　minigolf　（Duddits　had　been　weirdly　good　at　the　game；　only　Pete　had　been　able　to　beat　him　with　any　consistency）；　trips　to　the　movies；　always　you　mind　Henry　or　you　mind　Jonesy　or　you　mind　your　friends；　always　you　be　good；　Duddie　and　I　ee　oood；　Umma。
　　　　She　looked　him　up　and　down。
　　　　'I　love　you；　Douglas。　You　have　always　been　a　good　son　to　me；　and　I　love　you　so　very　much。　Give　me　a　kiss；　now。'
　　　　He　kissed　her；　her　hand　stole　out　and　caressed　his　beard…sandy　cheek。　Henry　could　hardly　bear　to　look；　but　he　did　look；　was　as　helpless　as　any　fly　caught　in　any　spiderweb。　Every　dreamcatcher　was　also　a　trap。
　　　　Duddits　gave　her　another　perfunctory　kiss；　but　his　brilliant　green　eyes　shifted　between　Henry　and　the　door。　Duddits　was　anxious　to　be　off。　Because　he　knew　the　people　after　Henry　and　his　friend　were　close？　Because　it　was　an　adventure；　like　all　the　adventures　the　five　of　them　had　had　in　the　old　days？　Both？　Yes；　probably　both。　Roberta　let　him　go；　her　hands　leaving　her　son　for　the　last　time。
　　　　'Roberta；'　Henry　said。　'Why　didn't　you　tell　any　of　us　this　was　happening？　Why　didn't　you　call？'
　　　　'Why　didn't　you　ever　e？'
　　　　Henry　might　have　asked　another　of　his　own　…　Why　didn't　Duddits　call？　…　but　the　very　question　would　have　been　a　lie。　Duddits　had　called　repeatedly　since　March；　when　Jonesy　had　had　his　accident。　He　thought　of　Pete；　sitting　in　the　snow　beside　the　overturned　Scout；　drinking　beer　and　writing　DUDDITS　over　and　over　again　in　the　snow。　Duddits；　marooned　in　Never…Never　Land　and　dying　there；　Duddits　sending　his　messages　and　receiving　back　only　silence。　Finally　one　of　them　had　e；　but　only　to　take　him　away　with　nothing　but　a　bag　of　pills　and　his　old　yellow　lunchbox。　There　was　no　kindness　in　the　dreamcatcher。　They　had　meant　only　good　for　Duddits；　even　on　that　first　day；　they　had　loved　him　honestly。　Still；　it　came　down　to　this。
　　　　'Take　care　of　him；　Henry。'　Her　gaze　shifted　to　Owen。　'You　too。　Take　care　of　my　son。'
　　　　Henry　said；　'We'll　try。'


15

There　was　no　place　to　turn　around　on　Dearborn　Street；　every　driveway　had　been　plowed　under。　In　the　strengthening　morning　light；　the　sleeping　neighborhood　looked　like　a　town　deep　in　the　Alaskan　tundra。　Owen　threw　the　Hummer　in　reverse　and　went　flying　backward　down　the　street；　the　bulky　vehicle's　rear　end　wagging　clumsily　from　side　to　side。　Its　high　steel　bumper　smacked　some　snow…shrouded　vehicle　parked　at　the　curb；　there　was　a　tinkle　of　breaking　glass；　and　then　they　again　burst　through　the　frozen　roadblock　of　snow　at　the　intersection；　swerving　wildly　back　into　Kansas　Street；　pointing　toward　the　turnpike。　During　all　this　Duddits　sat　in　the　back　seat；　perfectly　placent；　his　lunchbox　on　his　lap。
　　　　Henry；　why　did　Duddits　say　Jonesy　wants　war？　What　war？
　　　　Henry　tried　to　send　the　answer　telepathically；　but　Owen　could　no　longer　hear　him。　The　patches　of　byrus　on　Owen's　face　had　all　turned　white；　and　when　he　scratched　absently　at　his　cheek；　he　pulled　clumps　of　the　stuff　out　with　his　nails。　The　skin　beneath　looked　chapped　and　irritated；　but　not　really　hurt。　Like　getting　over　a　cold；　Henry　marvelled。　Really　not　more　serious　than　that。
　　　　'He　didn't　say　war；　Owen。'
　　　　'War；'　Duddits　agreed　from　the　back　seat。　He　leaned　forward　to　look　at　the　big　green　sign　reading　95　SOUTHBOUND。　'Onesy　ont　war。
　　　　Owen's　brow　wrinkled；　a　dust　of　dead　byrus　flakes　sifted　down　like　dandruff。　'What…'
　　　　'Water；'　Henry　said；　and　reached　back　to　pat　Duddit's　bony　knee。　'Jonesy　wants　water　is　what　he　was　trying　to　say。　Only　it's　not　Jonesy　who　wants　it。　It's　the　other　one。　The　one　he　calls　Mr　Gray。'


16

Roberta　went　into　Duddits's　room　and　began　to　pick　up　the　litter　of　his　clothes　…　the　way　he　left　them　around　drove　her　crazy；　but　she　supposed　she　wouldn't　have　to　worry　about　that　anymore。　She　had　been　at　it　scarcely　five　minutes　before　a　weakness　overcame　her　legs；　and　she　had　to　sit　in　his　chair　by　the　window。　The　sight　of　the　bed；　where　he　had　e　to　spend　more　and　more　of　his　time；　haunted　her。　The　dull　morning　light　on　the　pillow；　which　still　bore　the　circular　indentation　of　his　head；　was　inexpressibly　cruel。
　　　　Henry　thought　she'd　let　Duddits　go　because　they　believed　the　future　of　the　whole　world　somehow　hinged　on　finding　Jonesy；　and　finding　him　fast。　But　that　wasn't　it。　She　had　let　him　go　because　it　was　what　Duddits　wanted。　The　dying　got　signed　baseball　caps；　the　dying　also　got　to　go　on　trips　with　old　friends。
　　　　But　it　was　hard。
　　　　Losing　him　was　so　hard。
　　　　She　put　her　handful　of　tee…shirts　to　her　face　in　order　to　blot　out　the　sight　of　the　bed　and　there　was　his　smell：　Johnson's　shampoo；　Dial　soap；　and　most　of　all；　worst　of　all；　the　arnica　cream　she　put　on　his　back　and　legs　when　his　muscles　hurt。
　　　　In　her　desperation　she　reached　out　to　him；　trying　to　find　him　with　the　two　men　who　had　e　like　the　dead　and　taken　him　away；　but　his　mind　was　gone。
　　　　He's　blocked　himself　off　from　me；　she　thought。　They　had　enjoyed　（mostly　enjoyed）　their　own　ordinary　telepathy　over　the　years；　perhaps　only　different　in　minor　degree　from　the　telepathy　most　mothers　of　special　children　experienced　（she　had　heard　the　word　rapport　over　and　over　again　at　the　support…group　meetings　she　and　Alfie　sometimes　attended）；　but　that　was　gone　now。　Duddits　had　blocked　himself　off；　and　that　meant　he　knew　something　terrible　was　going　to　happen。
　　　　He　knew。
　　　　Still　holding　the　shirts　to　her　face　and　inhaling　his　scent；　Roberta　began　to　cry　again。


17

Kurtz　had　been　okay　（mostly　okay）　until　they　saw　the　road…flares　and　blue　police　lightbars　flashing　in　the　grim　morning　light；　and　beyond　it；　a　huge　semi　lying　on　its　side　like　a　dead　dinosaur。　Standing　out　front；　so　bundled　up　his　face　was　pletely　invisible；　was　a　cop　waving　them　toward　an　exit　ramp。
　　　　'Fuck！'　Kurtz　spat。　He　had　to　fight　an　urge　to　draw　the　nine　and　just　start　spraying　away。　He　knew　that　would　be　disaster　…　there　were　other　cops　running　around　the　stalled　semi　…　but　he　felt　the　urge；　all　but　ungovernable；　just　the　same。　They　were　so　close！　Closing　in；　by　the　hands　of　the　nailed…up　Christ！　And　then　stopped　like　this！　'Fuck；　fuck；　fuck！'
　　　　'What　do　you　want　me　to　do；　boss？'　Freddy　had　asked。　Impassive　behind　the　wheel；　but　he　had　drawn　his　own　weapon　…　an　automatic　rifle　…　across　his　lap。　'If　I　nail　it；　I　think　we　can　skate　by　on　the　night。　Gone　in　sixty　seconds。'
　　　　Again　Kurtz　had　to　fight　the　urge　to　just　say　Yeah；　punch　it；　Freddy；　and　if　one　of　those　bluesuits　gets　in　the　way；　bust　his　gut　for　him。　Freddy　might　get　by　。　。　。　but　he　might　not。　He　wasn't　the　driver　he　thought　he　was；　that　Kurtz　had　already　ascertained。　Like　too　many　pilots；　Freddy　had　the　erroneous　belief　that　his　skills　in　the　sky　were　mirrored　by　skills　on　the　ground。　And　even　if　they　did　get　by；　they'd　be　marked。　And　that　was　not　acceptable；　not　after　General　Yellow…Balls　Randall　had　hollered　Blue　Exit。　His　Get…Out…of…Jail…Free　card　had　been　revoked。　He　was　strictly　a　vigilante　now。
　　　　Got　to　do　the　smart　thing；　he　thought。　That's　why　they　pay　me　the　big　bucks。
　　　　'Be　a　good　boy　and　just　go　the　way　he's　pointing　you；'　Kurtz　said。　'In　fact；　I　want　you　to　give　him　a　wave　and　a　big　thumb's…up　when　you　take　the　ramp。　Then　keep　moving　south　and　get　back　on　the　turnpike　at　your　earliest　opportunity。'　He　sighed。　'Lord　love　a　duck。'　He　leaned　forward；　close　enough　to　Freddy　to　see　the　whitening　fuzz　of　Ripley　in　his　right　ear。　He　whispered；　ardent　as　a　lover；　'And　if　you　ditch　us；　laddie…buck；　I'll　put　a　round　in　the　back　of　your　neck。'　Kurtz　touched　the　place　where　the　soft　nape　joined　the　hard　skull。　'Right　here。'
　　　　Freddy's　wooden…Indian　face　didn't　change。　'Yes；　boss。'　Next；　Kurtz　had　gripped　the　now…nearlatose　Perlmutter　by　the　shoulder　and　had　shaken　him　until　Pearly's　eyes　at　last　fluttered　open。
　　　　'Lea'　me　'lone；　boss。　Need　to　sleep。'
　　　　Kurtz　placed　the　muzzle　of　his　nine…millimeter　against　the　back　of　his　former　aide's　head。　'Nope。　Rise　and　shine；　buck。　Time　for　a　little　debriefing。'
　　　　Pearly　had　groaned；　but　he　had