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The Shining 原版小说-第67部分
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got up; snufing back blood and wiping his nose with the back of his hand。 He
crossed to the Colorado Lounge and shoved through the batwing doors; making them
fly back and bang into the walls。
The place was empty 。。。 but the bar was fully stocked: God be praised!
Glass and the silver edging on labels glowed warmly in the dark。
Once; he remembered; a very long time ago; he had been angry that there was no
backbar mirror。 Now he was glad。 Looking into it he would have seen just another
drunk fresh off the wagon: bloody nose; untucked shirt; hair rumpled; cheeks
stubbly。
(This is what it's like to stick your whole hand into the nest。)
Loneliness surged over him suddenly and pletely。 He cried out with sudden
wretchedness and honestly wished he were dead。 His wife and son were upstairs
with the door locked against him。 The others bad all left。 The party was over。
He lurched forward again; reaching the bar。
〃Lloyd; where the fuck are you?〃 he screamed。
There was no answer。 In this well…padded
(cell)
room; his words did not even echo back to give the illusion of pany。
〃Grady!〃
No answer。 Only the bottles; standing stiffly at attention。
(Roll over。 Play dead。 Fetch。 Play dead。 Sit up。 Play dead。)
〃Never mind; I'll do it myself; goddammit。〃
Halfway over the bar he lost his balance and pitched forward; hitting his head
a muffled blow on the floor。 He got up on his hands and knees; his eyeballs
moving disjointed from side to side; fuzzy muttering sounds ing from his
mouth。 Then he collapsed; his face turned to one side; breathing in harsh
snores。
Outside; the wind whooped louder; driving the thickening snow before it。 It
was 8:30 A。M。
》
STAPLETON AIRPORT;
DENVER
At 8:31 A。M。; MST; a woman on TWA's Flight 196 burst into tears and began to
bugle her own opinion; which was perhaps not unshared among some of the other
passengers (or even the crew; for that matter); that the plane was going to
crash。
The sharp…faced woman next to Hallorann looked up from her book and offered a
brief character analysis: 〃Ninny;〃 and went back to her book。 She had downed two
screwdrivers during the flight; but they seemed not to have thawed her at all。
〃It's going to crash!〃 the woman was crying out shrilly。 〃Oh; I just know it
is!〃
A stewardess hurried to her seat and squatted beside her。 Hallorann thought to
himself that only stewardesses and very young housewives seemed able to squat
with any degree of grace; it was a rare and wonderful talent。 He thought about
this while the stewardess talked softly and soothingly to the woman; quieting
her bit by bit。
Hallorann didn't know about anyone else on 196; but he personally was almost
scared enough to shit peachpits。 Outside the window there was nothing to be seen
but a buffeting curtain of white。 The plane rocked sickeningly from side to side
with gusts that seemed to e from everywhere。 The engines were cranked up to
provide partial pensation and as a result the floor was vibrating under their
feet。 There were several people moaning in Tourist behind them; one stew had
gone back with a handful of fresh airsick bags; and a man three rows in front of
Hallorann had whoopsed into his National Observer and had grinned apologetically
at the stewardess who came to help him clean up。 〃That's all right;〃 she
forted him; 〃that's how I feel about the Reader's Digest。〃
Hallorann had flown enough to be able to surmise what had happened。 They had
been flying against bad headwinds most of the way; the weather over Denver had
worsened suddenly and unexpectedly; and now it was just a little late to divert
for someplace where the weather was better。 Feets don't fail me now。
(Buddy…boy; this is some fucked…up cavalry charge。)
The stewardess seemed to have succeeded in curbing the worst of the woman's
hysterics。 She was snuffling and honking into a lace handkerchief; but had
ceased broadcasting her opinions about the flight's possible conclusion to the
cabin at large。 The stew gave her a final pat on the shoulder and stood up just
as the 747 gave its worst lurch yet。 The stewardess stumbled backward and landed
in the lap of the man who had whoopsed into his paper; exposing a lovely length
of nyloned thigh。 The man blinked and then patted her kindly on the shoulder。
She smiled back; but Hallorann thought the strain was showing。 It had been one
hell of a hard flight this morning。
There was a little ping as the No SMOKING light reappeared。
〃This is the captain speaking;〃 a soft; slightly southern voice informed them。
〃We're ready to begin our descent to Stapleton International Airport。 It's been
a rough flight; for which I apologize。 The landing may be a bit rough also; but
we anticipate no real difficulty。 Please observe the FASTEN SEAT BELTS and NO
SMOKING signs; and we hope you enjoy your stay in the Denver metro area。 And we
also hope — 〃
Another hard bump rocked the plane and then dropped her with a sickening
elevator plunge。 Hallorann's stomach did a queasy hornpipe。 Several people — not
all women by any means — screamed。
〃 — that we'll see you again on another TWA flight real soon。〃
〃Not bloody likely;〃 someone behind Hallorann said。
〃So silly;〃 the sharp…faced woman next to Hallorann remarked; putting a
matchbook cover into her book and shutting it as the plane began to descend。
〃When one has seen the horrors of a dirty little war 。。。 as you have 。。。 or
sensed the degrading immorality of CIA dollar…diplomacy intervention 。。。 as I
have 。。。 a rough landing pales into insignificance。 Am I right; Mr。 Hallorann? 〃
〃As rain; ma'am;〃 he said; and looked bleakly out into the wildly blowing
snow。
〃How is your steel plate reacting to all of this; if I might inquire?〃
〃Oh; my head's fine;〃 Hallorann said。 〃It's just my stomach that's a mite
queasy。〃
〃A shame。〃 She reopened her book。
As they descended through the impenetrable clouds of snow; Hallorann thought
of a crash that had occurred at Boston's Logan Airport a few years ago。 The
conditions had been similar; only fog instead of snow had reduced visibility to
zero。 The plane had caught its undercarriage on a retaining wall near the end of
the landing strip。 What had been left of the eighty…nine people aboard hadn't
looked much different from a Hamburger Helper casserole。
He wouldn't mind so much if it was just himself。 He was pretty much alone in
the world now; and attendance at his funeral would be mostly held down to the
people he had worked with and that old renegade Masterton; who would at least
drink to him。 But the boy 。。。 the boy was depending on him。 He was maybe all
the help that child could expect; and he didn't like the way the boy's last call
had been snapped off。 He kept thinking of the way those hedge animals had seemed
to move 。。。
A thin white hand appeared over his。
The woman with the sharp face had taken off her glasses。 Without them her
features seemed much softer。
〃It will be all right;〃 she said。
Hallorann made a smile and nodded。
As advertised the plane came down hard; reuniting with the earth forcefully
enough to knock most of the magazines out of the rack at the front and to send
plastic trays cascading out of the galley like oversized playing cards。 No one
screamed; but Hallorann heard several sets of teeth clicking violently together
like gypsy castanets。
Then the turbine engines rose to a howl; braking the plane; and as they
dropped in volume the pilot's soft southern voice; perhaps not pletely
steady; came over the inter system。 〃Ladies and gentlemen; we have landed at
Stapleton Airport。 Please remain in your seats until the plane has e to a
plete stop at the terminal。 Thank you。〃
The woman beside Hallorann closed her book and uttered a long sigh。 〃We live
to fight another day; Mr。 Hallorann。〃
〃Ma'am; we aren't done with this one; yet。〃
〃True。 Very true。 Would you care to have a drink in the lounge with me?〃
〃I would; but I have an appointment to keep。〃
〃Pressing?〃
〃Very pressing;〃 Hallorann said gravely。
〃Something that will improve the general situation in some small way; I hope。〃
〃I hope so too;〃 Hallorann said; and smiled。 She smiled back at him; ten years
dropping silently from her face as she did so。
* * *
Because he had only the flight bag he'd carried for luggage; Hallorann beat
the crowd to the Hertz desk on the lower level。 Outside the smoked glass windows
he could see the snow still falling steadily。 The gusting wind drove white
clouds of it back and forth; and the people walking across to the parking area
were struggling against it。 One man lost his hat and Hallorann could miserate
with him as it whirled high; wide; and handsome。 The man stared after it and
Hallorann thought:
(Aw; just forget it; man。 That homburg ain't in down until it gets to
Arizona。)
On the heels of that thought:
(If it's this bad in Denver; what's it going to be like west of Boulder?)
Best not to think about that; maybe。
〃Can I help you; sir?〃 a girl in Hertz yellow asked him。
〃If you got a car; you can help me;〃 he said with a big grin。
For a heavier…than…average charge he was able to get a heavier…than…average
car; a silver and black Buick Electra。 He was thinking of the winding mountain
roads rather than style; he would still have to stop somewhere along the way and
get chains put on。 He wouldn't get far without them。
〃How bad is it?〃 he asked as she handed him the rental agreement to sign。
〃They say it's the worst storm since 1969;〃 she answered brightly。 〃Do you
have far to drive; sir?〃
〃Farther than I'd like。〃
〃If you'd like; sir; I can phone ahead to the Texaco station at the Route 270
junction。 They'll put chains on for you。'
〃That would be a great blessing; dear。〃
She picked up the phone and made the call。 〃They'll be expecting you。〃
〃Thank you much。〃
Leaving the desk; he saw the sharp…faced woman standing on one of the queues
that had formed in front of the luggage carousel。 She was still reading her
book。 Hallorann winked at her as he went by。 She looked up; smiled at him; and
gave him a peace sign。
(shine)
He turned up his overcoat collar; smiling; and shifted his flight bag to the
other hand。 Only a little one; but it made him feel better。 He was sorry he'd
told her that fish story about having a steel plate in his head。 He mentally
wished her well and as he went out into the howling wind and snow; he thought
she wished him the same in return
* * *
The charge for putting on the chains at the service station was a modest one;
but Hallorann slipped the man at work in the garage bay an extra ten to get
moved up a little way on the waiting list。 It was still quarter of ten before he
was actually on the road; the windshield wipers clicking and the chains clinking
with tuneless monotony on the Buick's big wheels。
The turnpike was a mess。 Even
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