sk.dreamcatcher-第134部分

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　movies　and　the　Sergio　Leone　westerns；　whatever　it　is　that　got　off　on　the　fear　and　the　violence　。　。　。　man；　Mr　Gray　loved　that　shit。　And　why　wouldn't　he？　Those　things　are　primitive　survival　tools。　As　the　last　of　his　kind　in　a　hostile　environment；　he　grabbed　every　damned　tool　he　could　lay　his　hands　on。'
　　　　'Bullshit。'　Jonesy's　dislike　of　this　idea　was　plain　on　his　face。
　　　　'It's　not。　At　Hole　in　the　Wall；　you　saw　what　you　expected　to　see；　which　was　an　X…Files…slash…Close　Encounters　of　the　Third　Kind　alien。　You　inhaled　the　byrus。　。　。　I　have　no　doubt　there　was　at　least　that　much　physical　contact。　。　。　but　you　were　pletely　immune　to　it。　As；　we　now　know；　at　least　fifty　per　cent　of　the　human　race　seems　to　be。　What　you　caught　was　an　intention　。　。　。　a　kind　of　blind　imperative。　Fuck；　there's　no　word　for　it；　because　there's　no　word　for　them。　But　I　think　it　got　in　because　you　believed　it　was　there。'
　　　　'You　are　telling　me；'　Jonesy　said；　looking　at　Henry　over　the　top　of　his　sleeping　son's　head；　'that　I　almost　destroyed　the　human　race　because　I　had　a　hysterical　pregnancy？'
　　　　'Oh；　no；'　Henry　said。　'If　that　had　been　all；　it　would　have　passed　off。　Would　have　amounted　to　no　more　than　a　。　。　。　a　fugue。　But　in　you；　the　idea　of　Mr　Gray　stuck　like　a　fly　in　a　spiderweb。'
　　　　'It　stuck　in　the　dreamcatcher。'
　　　　'Yes。'
　　　　They　fell　quiet。　Soon　Carla　would　call　them　and　they　would　eat　hot　dogs　and　hamburgers；　potato　salad　and　watermelon；　beneath　the　blue　shield　of　the　infinitely　permeable　sky。
　　　　'And　will　you　say　it　was　all　coincidence？'　Jonesy　asked。　'That　they　just　happened　to　e　down　in　the　Jefferson　Tract　and　I　just　happened　to　be　there？　And　not　just　me；　either。　You　and　Peter　and　Beav。　Plus　Duddits；　Just　a　couple　of　hundred　miles　to　the　south；　don't　forget　that。　Because　it　was　Duddits　who　held　us　together。'
　　　　'Duddits　was　always　a　sword　with　two　edges；'　Henry　said；　'Josie　Rinkenhauer　on　one　…　Duddits　the　finder；　Duddits　the　savior。　Richie　Grenadeau　on　the　other　…　Duddits　the　killer。　Only　Duddits　needed　us　to　help　him　kin。　I'm　sure　of　that。　We　were　the　ones　with　the　deeper　subconscious　layer。　We　supplied　the　hate　and　the　fear　…　the　fear　that　Richie　really　would　get　us；　the　way　he　promised　he　would。　We　always　had　more　of　the　dark　stuff　than　Duds。　His　idea　of　being　mean　was　counting　your　crib　backward；　and　that　was　more　in　the　spirit　of　fun　than　anything　else。　Still　。　。　。　do　you　remember　the　time　Pete　pulled　Duddits's　hat　over　his　eyes　and　Duds　walked　into　the　wall？'
　　　　Jonesy　did；　vaguely。　Out　at　the　mall；　that　had　been。　When　they　had　been　young　and　the　mall　had　been　the　place　to　go。　Same　shit；　different　day。　　　　
　　　　'For　quite　awhile　after　that；　Pete　lost　whenever　we　played　the　Duddits　game。　Duddits　always　counted　him　backward；　and　none　of　us　tipped　to　it。　We　probably　thought　it　was　just　coincidence；　but　in　light　of　everything　I　know　now；　I　tend　to　doubt　that。'
　　　　'You　think　even　Duddits　knew　payback's　a　bitch？'
　　　　'He　learned　it　from　us；　Jonesy。'
　　　　'Duddits　gave　Mr　Gray　his　foothold。　His　mindhold。'
　　　　'Yeah；　but　he　also　gave　you　a　stronghold　…　a　place　where　you　could　hide　from　Mr　Gray。　Don't　forget　that。'
　　　　No；　Jonesy　thought；　he　would　never　forget　that。
　　　　'All　of　it　on　our　end　started　with　Duddits；'　Henry　said。　'We've　been　odd；　Jonesy；　ever　since　we　knew　him。　You　know　it's　true。　The　things　with　Richie　Grenadeau　were　only　the　big　things；　the　ones　that　stood　out。　If　you　look　back　over　your　life；　you'll　see　other　things。　I'm　sure　of　it。'
　　　　'Defuniak；'　Jonesy　murmured。
　　　　'Who's　that？'
　　　　'The　kid　I　caught　cheating　just　before　my　accident。　I　caught　him　even　though　I　wasn't　there　on　the　day　the　test　was　given。'
　　　　'You　see？　But　in　the　end；　it　was　Duddits　who　broke　the　little　gray　son　of　a　bitch。　I'll　tell　you　something　else：　I　think　Duddits　saved　my　life　at　the　end　of　East　Street。　I　think　it's　entirely　possible　that　when　Kurtz's　sidekick　looked　into　the　back　of　the　Humvee　at　us　…　the　first　time；　I'm　talking　about　…　he　had　a　little　Duddits　in　his　head　saying　〃Don't　worry；　old　hoss；　go　on　about　your　business；　they　dead。〃'
　　　　But　Jonesy　had　not　left　his　earlier　thought。　'And　are　we　supposed　to　believe　that　the　byrum　connecting　with　us　…　us；　of　all　the　people　in　the　world　…　was　just　random　coincidence？　Because　that's　what　Gerritsen　believed。　He　never　said　it　in　so　many　words；　but　his　take　on　it　was　clear　enough。'
　　　　'Why　not？　There　are　scientists；　brilliant　men　like　Stephen　Jay　Gould；　who　believe　that　our　own　species　exists　thanks　to　an　even　longer　and　more　improbable　chain　of　coincidences。'
　　　　'Is　that　what　you　believe？'
　　　　Henry　lifted　his　hands。　He　hardly　knew　how　to　reply　without　invoking　God；　who　had　crept　back　into　his　life　over　these　last　few　months。　By　the　back　door；　as　it　were；　and　in　the　dead　of　many　sleepless　nights。　But　did　one　have　to　invoke　that　old　deus　ex　machina　to　make　sense　of　this？
　　　　'What　I　believe　is　that　Duddits　is　us；　Jonesy。　L'enfant　c'est　moi　。　。　。　toi　。　。　。　tout　le　monde。　Race；　species；　genus；　game；　set；　and　match。　We　are；　in　our　sum；　Duddits；　and　all　our　noblest　aspirations　e　down　to　no　more　than　keeping　track　of　the　yellow　lunchbox　and　learning　to　put　our　shoes　on　the　right　way　…　fit　wha；　fit　neek。　Our　wickedest　motions；　in　a　cosmic　sense；　e　down　to　no　more　than　counting　someone's　crib；　pegging　it　backward；　then　playing　dumb　about　it。'
　　　　Jonesy　was　regarding　him　with　fascination。　'That's　either　inspiring　or　horrible。　I　can't　tell　which。'
　　　　'And　it　doesn't　matter。'
　　　　Jonesy　thought　about　this；　then　asked：　'If　we're　Duddits；　who　sings　to　us？　Who　sings　the　lullaby；　helps　us　go　to　sleep　when　we're　sad　and　scared？'　　　
　　　　'Oh；　God　still　does　that；'　Henry　said；　and　could　have　kicked　himself。　There　it　was；　out　in　spite　of　all　his　intentions。
　　　　'And　did　God　keep　that　last　weasel　out　of　Shaft　12？　Because　if　that　thing　had　gotten　in　the　water；　Henry…'
　　　　Technically；　the　weasel　that　had　incubated　inside　of　Perlmutter　had　actually　been　the　last；　but　it　was　a　fine　point；　a　hair　that　needed　no　splitting。
　　　　'It　would　have　caused　trouble；　I　don't　dispute　that；　for　a　couple　of　years；　whether　or　not　to　tear　down　Fenway　Park　would　have　been　the　least　of　Boston's　concerns。　But　destroy　us？　I　don't　think　so。　We　were　a　new　thing　to　them。　Mr　Gray　knew　it；　those　tapes　of　you　under　hypnosis　'
　　　　'Don't　talk　about　those。'　Jonesy　had　listened　to　two　of　them；　and　believed　doing　so　had　been　the　biggest　mistake　he'd　made　during　his　time　in　Wyoming。　Listening　to　himself　speak　as　Mr　Gray　…　under　deep　hypnosis　to　bee　Mr　Gray　…　had　been　like　listening　to　a　malevolent　ghost。　There　were　times　when　he　thought　he　might　be　the　only　man　on　earth　who　truly　understood　what　it　was　to　be　raped。　Some　things　were　better　forgotten。
　　　　'Sorry。'
　　　　Jonesy　waved　his　hand　to　show　it　was　okay　…　not　a　problem　but　he　had　paled　considerably。
　　　　'All　I'm　saying　is　that；　to　a　greater　or　lesser　degree；　we　are　a　species　living　in　the　dreamcatcher。　I　hate　the　way　that　sounds；　phony　transcendentalism；　rings　on　the　ear　like　pure　tin；　but　we　don't　have　the　right　words　for　this　part　of　it；　either。　We　may　have　to　invent　some　eventually；　but　in　the　meantime；　dreamcatcher　will　have　to　do。'
　　　　Henry　turned　in　his　seat。　Jonesy　did　the　same；　shifting　Noel　a　little　bit　on　his　lap。　A　dreamcatcher　hung　over　the　door　to　the　cabin。　Henry　had　brought　it　as　a　house　present；　and　Jonesy　had　put　it　up　at　once；　like　a　Catholic　peasant　nailing　a　crucifix　to　the　door　of　his　cottage　during　a　time　of　vampires。
　　　　'Maybe　they　were　just　drawn　to　you；'　Henry　said。　'To　us。　The　way　flowers　turn　to　follow　the　sun；　or　the　way　iron　filings　line　up　when　they　feel　the　pull　of　a　magnet。　We　can't　tell　for　sure；　because　the　byrum　is　so　different　from　us。'
　　　　'Will　they　be　back？'
　　　　'Oh　yes；'　Henry　said。　'Them　or　others。'　
　　　　He　looked　up　at　the　blue　sky　of　this　late…summer　day。　Somewhere　in　the　distance；　toward　the　Quabbin　Reservoir；　an　eagle　screamed。　'I　think　you　can　take　that　to　the　bank。　But　not　today。'
　　　　'Guys！'　Carla　shouted。　'Lunch　is　ready！'
　　　　Henry　took　Noel　from　Jonesy。　For　a　moment　their　hands　touched；　their　eyes　touched；　and　their　minds　touched　…　for　a　moment　they　saw　the　line。　Henry　smiled。　Jonesy　smiled　back。　Then　they　walked　down　the　steps　and　across　the　lawn　side　by　side；　Jonesy　limping；　Henry　with　the　sleeping　child　in　his　arms；　and　for　that　moment　the　only　darkness　was　their　shadows　trailing　behind　them　on　the　grass。

　　　Lovell；　Maine
　　　May　29；　2000

Author's　Note


I　was　never　so　grateful　to　be　writing　as　during　my　time　of　work　（November　16；　1999　…　May　29；　2000）　on　Dreamcatcher。　I　was　in　a　lot　of　physical　disfort　during　those　six　and　a　half　months；　and　the　book　took　me　away。　The　reader　will　see　that　pieces　of　that　physical　disfort　followed　me　into　the　story；　but　what　I　remember　most　is　the　sublime　release　we　find　in　vivid　dreams。
　　　　A　good　many　people　helped　me。　One　was　my　wife；　Tabitha；　who　simply　refused　to　call　this　novel　by　its　original　title；　which　was　Cancer。　She　considered　it　both　ugly　and　an　invitation　to　bad　luck　and　trouble。　Eventually　I　came　around　to　her　way　of　thinking；　and　she　no　longer　refers　to　it　as　'that　book'　or　'the　one　about　the　shit…weasels'。
　　　　I'm　also　indebted　to　Bill　Pula；　who　to