sk.thegunslinger-第13部分

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produced　his　poke　and　rolled　a　cigarette。
〃We　have　to　talk；〃　he　said。
Jake　nodded。
〃I　guess　you　know　I'm　on　the　prod　for　that　man　you　saw。〃
〃Are　you　going　to　kill　him？〃
〃I　don't　know。　I　have　to　make　him　tell　me　something。　I　may　have　to　make　him　take　me　someplace。〃
〃Where？〃
〃To　find　a　tower；〃　the　gunslinger　said。　He　held　his　cigarette　over　the　chimney　of　the　lamp　and　drew　on　it；　the　smoke　drifted　away　on　the　rising　night　breeze。　Jake　watched　it。　His　face　showed　neither　fear　nor　curiosity；　certainly　not　enthusiasm。
〃So　I'm　going　on　tomorrow；〃　the　gunslinger　said。　〃You'll　have　to　e　with　me。　How　much　of　that　meat　is　left？〃
〃Only　a　handful。〃
〃Corn？〃
〃A　little。〃
The　gunslinger　nodded。　〃Is　there　a　cellar？〃
〃Yes。〃　Jake　looked　at　him。　The　pupils　of　his　eyes　had　grown　to　a　huge；　fragile　size。　〃You　pull　up　on　a　ring　in　the　floor；　but　I　didn't　go　down。　I　was　afraid　the　ladder　would　break　and　I　wouldn't　be　able　to　get　up　again。　And　it　smells　bad。　It's　the　only　thing　around　here　that　smells　at　all。〃
〃We'll　get　up　early　and　see　if　there's　anything　down　there　worth　taking。　Then　we'll　bug　out〃
〃All　right〃　The　boy　paused　and　then　said；　〃I'm　glad　I　didn't　kill　you　when　you　were　sleeping。　I　had　a　pitchfork　and　I　thought　about　doing　it。　But　I　didn't；　and　now　I　won't　have　to　be　afraid　to　go　to　sleep。〃
〃What　would　you　be　afraid　of？〃
The　book　looked　at　him　ominously。　〃Spooks。　Of　him　ing　back。〃
〃The　man　in　black；〃　the　gunslinger　said。　Not　a　question。
〃Yes。　Is　he　a　bad　man？〃
〃That　depends　on　where　you're　standing；〃　the　gunslinger　said　absently。　He　got　up　and　pitched　his　cigarette　out　onto　the　hardpan。　〃I'm　going　to　sleep。〃
The　boy　looked　at　him　timidly。　〃Can　I　sleep　in　the　stable　with　you？〃
〃Of　course。〃
The　gunslinger　stood　on　the　steps；　looking　up；　and　the　boy　joined　him。　Polaris　was　up　there；　and　Mars。　It　seemed　to　the　gunslinger　that；　if　he　closed　his　eyes　he　would　be　able　to　hear　the　croaking　of　the　first　spring　peepers；　smell　the　green　and　almost…summer　smell　of　the　court　lawns　after　their　first　cutting　（and　hear；　perhaps；　the　indolent　click　of　croquet　balls　as　the　ladies　of　the　East　Wing；　attired　only　in　their　shifts　as　dusk　glimmered　toward　dark；　played　at　Points）；　could　almost　see　Aileen　as　she　came　through　the　break　in　the　hedges　It　was　not　like　him　to　think　so　much　of　the　past。
He　turned　back　and　picked　up　the　lamp。　〃Let's　go　to　sleep；〃　he　said。
They　crossed　to　the　stable　together。
The　next　morning　he　explored　the　cellar。
Jake　was　right；　it　smelled　bad。　It　had　a　wet；　swampy　smell　that　made　the　gunslinger　feel　nauseous　and　a　little　lightheaded　after　the　antiseptic　odorlessness　of　the　desert　and　the　stable。　The　cellar　smelled　of　cabbages　and　turnips　and　potatoes　with　long；　sightless　eyes　gone　to　everlasting　rot　The　ladder；　however；　seemed　quite　sturdy；　and　he　climbed　down。
The　floor　was　earthen；　and　his　head　almost　touched　the　overhead　beams。　Down　here　spiders　still　lived；　disturbingly　big　ones　with　mottled　gray　bodies。　Many　of　them　had　mutated。　Some　had　eyes　on　stalks；　some　had　what　might　have　been　as　many　as　sixteen　legs。
The　gunslinger　peered　around　and　waited　for　his　nighteyes。
〃You　all　right？〃　Jake　called　down　nervously。
〃Yes。　He　focused　on　the　corner。　〃There　are　cans。　Wait〃
He　went　carefully　to　the　corner；　ducking　his　head。　There　was　an　old　box　with　one　side　folded　down。　The　cans　were　vegetables　　green　beans；　yellow　beans。。。　and　three　cans　of　corned　beef。
He　scooped　up　an　armload　and　went　back　to　the　ladder。　He　climbed　halfway　up　and　handed　them　to　Jake；　who　knelt　to　receive　them。　He　went　back　for　more。
It　was　on　the　third　trip　that　he　heard　the　groaning　in　the　foundations。
He　turned；　looked；　and　felt　a　kind　of　dreamy　terror　wash　over　him；　a　feeling　both　languid　and　repellent；　like　sex　in　the　water　　one　drowning　within　another。
The　foundation　was　posed　of　huge　sandstone　blocks　that　had　probably　been　evenly　cornered　when　the　way　station　was　new；　but　which　were　now　at　every　zigzag；　drunken　angle。　It　made　the　wall　look　as　if　it　were　inscribed　with　strange；　meandering　hierogliphics。　And　from　the　joining　of　two　of　these　abstruse　cracks；　a　thin　spill　of　sand　was　running；　as　if　something　on　the　other　side　was　digging　itself　through　with　slobbering；　agonized　intensity。
The　groaning　rose　and　fell；　being　louder；　until　the　whole　cellar　was　full　of　the　sound；　an　abstract　noise　of　ripping　pain　and　dreadful　effort。
〃e　up！〃　Jake　screamed。　〃O　Jesus；　mister；　e　up！〃
〃Go　away；〃　the　gunslinger　said　calmly。
〃e　up！〃　Jake　screamed　again。
The　gunslinger　did　not　answer。　He　pulled　leather　with　his　right　hand。
There　was　a　hole　in　the　wall　now；　a　hole　as　big　as　a　coin。　He　could　hear；　through　the　curtain　of　his　own　terror；　Jake's　pattering　feet　as　the　boy　ran。　Then　the　spill　of　sand　stopped。　The　groaning　ceased；　but　there　was　a　sound　of　steady；　labored　breathing。
〃Who　are　you？〃　The　gunslinger　asked。
No　answer。
And　in　the　High　Speech；　his　voice　filling　with　the　old　thunder　of　mand；　Roland　demanded：　〃Who　are　you；　Demon？　Speak；　if　you　would　speak。　My　time　is　short；　my　hands　lose　patience。〃
〃Go　slow；〃　a　dragging；　clotted　voice　said　from　within　the　wall。　And　the　gunslinger　felt　the　dreamlike　terror　deepen　and　grow　almost　solid。　It　was　the　voice　of　Alice；　the　woman　he　had　stayed　with　in　the　town　of　Tull。　But　she　was　dead；　he　had　seen　her　go　down　himself；　a　bullet　hole　between　her　eyes。　Fathoms　seemed　to　swim　by　his　eyes；　descending。　〃Go　slow　past　the　Drawers；　gunslinger。　While　you　travel　with　the　boy；　the　man　in　black　travels　with　your　soul　in　his　pocket。〃
〃What　do　you　mean？　Speak　on！〃
But　the　breathing　was　gone。
The　gunslinger　stood　for　a　moment；　frozen；　and　then　one　of　the　huge　spiders　dropped　on　his　arm　and　scrambled　frantically　up　to　his　shoulder。　With　an　involuntary　grunt　he　brushed　it　away　and　got　his　feet　moving。　He　did　not　want
To　do　it；　but　custom　was　strict；　inviolable。　The　dead　from　the　dead；　as　the　old　proverb　has　it；　only　a　corpse　may　speak。　He　went　to　the　hole　and　punched　at　it。　The　sandstone　crumbled　easily　at　the　edges；　and　with　a　bare　stiffening　of　muscles；　he　thrust　his　hand　through　the　wall。
And　touched　something　solid；　with　raised　and　fretted　knobs。　He　drew　it　out。　He　held　a　jawbone；　rotted　at　the　far　hinge。　The　teeth　leaned　this　way　and　that。
〃All　right；〃　he　said　softly。　He　thrust　it　rudely　into　his　back　pocket　and　went　back　up　the　ladder；　carrying　the　last　cans　awkwardly。　He　left　the　trapdoor　open。　The　sun　would　get　in　and　kill　the　spiders。
Jake　was　halfway　across　the　stable　yard；　cowering　on　the　cracked；　rubbly　hardpan。　He　screamed　when　he　saw　the　gunslinger；　backed　away　a　step　or　two；　and　then　ran　to　him；　crying。
〃I　thought　it　got　you；　that　it　got　you；　I　thought　〃
〃It　didn't。〃　He　held　the　boy　to　him；　feeling　his　face；　hot　against　his　chest；　and　his　hands；　dry　against　his　ribcage。　It　occurred　to　him　later　that　this　was　when　he　began　to　love　the　boy　　which　was；　of　course；　what　the　man　in　black　must　have　planned　all　along。
〃Was　it　a　demon？〃　The　voice　was　muffled。
〃Yes。　A　speaking…demon。　We　don't　have　to　go　back　there　anymore。　e　on。〃
They　went　to　the　stable；　and　the　gunslinger　made　a　rough　pack　from　the　blanket　he　had　slept　under　　it　was　hot　and　prickly；　but　there　was　nothing　else。　That　done；　he　filled　the　waterbags　from　the　pump。
〃You　carry　one　of　the　waterbags；〃　the　gunslinger　said。　〃Wear　it　around　your　shoulders　　like　a　fakir　carries　his　snake。　See？〃
〃Yes。〃　The　boy　looked　up　at　him　worshipfully。　He　slung　one　of　the　bags。
〃Is　it　too　heavy？〃
〃No。　It's　fine。〃
〃Tell　me　the　truth；　now。　I　can't　carry　you　if　you　get　a　sunstroke。〃
〃I　won't　have　a　sunstroke。　I'll　be　okay。〃
The　gunslinger　nodded。
〃We're　going　to　the　mountains；　aren't　we？〃
〃Yes。〃
They　walked　out　into　the　steady　smash　of　the　sun。　Jake；　his　head　as　high　as　the　swing　of　the　gunslinger's　elbows；　walked　to　his　right　and　a　little　ahead；　the　rawhide…wrapped　ends　of　the　waterbag　hanging　nearly　to　his　shins。　The　gunslinger　had　crisscrossed　two　more　waterbags　across　his　shoulders　and　carried　the　sling　of　food　in　his　armpit；　his　left　arm　holding　it　against　his　body。
They　passed　through　the　far　gate　of　the　way　station　and　found　the　blurred　ruts　of　the　stage　track　again。　They　had　walked　perhaps　fifteen　minutes　when　Jake　turned　around　and　waved　at　the　two　buildings。　They　seemed　to　huddle　in　the　titanic　space　of　the　desert。
〃Goodbye！〃　Jake　cried。　〃Goodbye！〃
They　walked。　The　stage　track　breasted　a　frozen　sand　drumlin；　and　when。　the　gunslinger　looked　around；　the　way　station　was　gone。　Once　again　there　was　the　desert；　and　that　only。
They　were　three　days　out　of　the　way　station；　the　mountains　were　deceptively　clear　now。　They　could　see　the　rise　of　the　desert　into　foothills；　the　first　naked　slopes；　the　bedrock　bursting　through　the　skin　of　the　earth　in　sullen；　eroded　triumph。　Further　up；　the　land　gentled　off　briefly　again；　and　for　the　first　time　in　months　or　years　the　gunslinger　could　see　green　　real；　living　green。　Grass；　dwarf　spruces；　perhaps　even　willows；　all　fed　by　snow　runoff　from　further　up。
Beyond　that　the　rock　took　over　again；　rising　in　cyclopean；　tumbled　splendor　to　the　blinding　snowcaps。　Off　to　the　left；　a　huge　slash　showed　the　way　to　the　smaller；　eroded　sandstone　cliffs　and　mesas　and　buttes　on　the　far　side。　This　draw　was　obscured　in　the　almost　con