Gray soupy world, viewed from the bottom of a stockpot.
I drowned in my chair, blinked, trying to clear eyes that wouldn’t open.Someone played a trombone solo. My eyelids1 finally cooperated. The ceilingswooped down, changed its mind, soared miles above, a white plaster sky.
Blue sky. No, the blue was off to the left.
A smudge of black on top.
Pale blue, same exact color as the burned cork2 smell in my throat.
The black, Allison’s hair.
The pale blue, one of her suits. Memories flooded my head. Fitted jacket,skirt short enough to show a nice bit of knee. Braiding around the lapels,covered buttons.
Lots of buttons; it could take a long, sweet time to free them.
The pain in my skull3 took over. My back and my right side—
Someone moved. Above Allison. To the right.
“Can’t you see he needs help—”
“Shut up!”
My eyelids sank. I blinked some more. Turned it into an aerobic4 activity andfinally achieved some focus.
There she was. In one of the soft white chairs where she hadn’t beenbefore…how long ago?
I tried to look at my watch. The face was a silver disk.
My vision cleared a bit. I’d been right: She was wearing the exact suit I’dpictured, give the boy an A for…
Movement from the right.
Standing5 over her was Dr. Patrick Hauser. One of his hands had vanished inher hair. The other held a knife pressed to her smooth white throat.
Red handle. Swiss Army knife, one of the larger versions. For some reason, Ifound that ludicrously amateurish6.
Hauser’s clothes clinched7 it. White golf shirt, baggy8 brown pants, brownwingtips.
Hard-toed wingtips, way too dressy for the outfit9. White was the wrong colorif you wanted to avoid those stubborn bloodstains.
Hauser’s shirt was sweat-splotched but free of red. Beginner’s luck. Nosense rubbing it in. I smiled at him.
“Something funny?”
I had so many snappy comebacks. Forgot all of them. Gong. Gong.
Allison’s eyes shifted to the right. Past Hauser, toward her desk?
Nothing else there but a wall and a closet.
Closet blocked by the door when you opened it.
Deep blue irises10 moved again. Definitely the desk. The far end, where herpurse sat.
Hauser said, “Sit up and get that pen.”
I was already sitting. Silly man.
I spread my arms to show him, hit an arm of the wooden desk chair.
Not sitting at all. Slumped11, nearly prone12, head tilted13 back, spine14 in an oddposition.
Maybe that’s why everything hurt so bad.
I tried to straighten, nearly passed out.
“C’mon, up, up, up,” barked Hauser.
Every inch of movement heated the toaster coils that had replaced my spinalnerves. It took years to reach a sitting position and the ordeal15 robbed me ofbreath. Inhaling16 was hellish, breathing out, worse.
A few more centuries and my eyes got clearer. I gained a sense of context:Allison and Hauser fifteen feet away. My chair pushed up to Allison’s desk. Theside where a new patient might sit, seeking consultation17.
Therapy charts and Allison’s desktop18 doodads on the pale oak surface. She’dbeen doing paperwork when he’d—
Hauser said, “Get the pen and start writing.”
What pen? Ah, there it was, hiding among the noise and the color. Next to aclean, white sheet of paper.
Some comical guy’s voice said,“Wri-whuh?”
I cleared my throat. Licked my lips. The rephrase came out: “Wri…tuh whuh?”
Hauser said, “Cut the theatrics, you’re fine.”
Allison moved her left shoe. Mouthed something that looked like “Sorry.” Shewinced as the knife blade pressed into her skin. Hauser didn’t seem to be awareof his own movement or her reaction.
“Write, you sonofabitch.”
“Sure,” I said. “Bun cun you crew—cue me in?”
“You’re going to retract19 everything you told that bitch lawyer, label theother bitches for the malingering bitches they are, sign and date.”
“Ah theh?”
“Then what?”
“Whah happahs aftah I chew thah?”
“Then we’ll see, you unethical asshole.”
“Alethical.”
“Once you’re exposed,” said Hauser, “life will be cream and sugar.”
“For who?”
His glasses slid down his nose and he flicked20 his head to right them. Themovement distanced the blade from Allison’s neck.
Then it was back.
A low sound fluttered his lips. “Shut up and write or I’ll cut her and setit up like you did it.”
“You’re serious.”
“Do I look as if I’m kidding?” His eyes watered. His lower lip vibrated. “Iwas doing just fine until everyone started lying. All my life I’ve done forothers. Now it’s time to take care of number one.”
I managed to pick up the pen, nearly dropped it. Heavy little sucker—werethey making them of lead nowadays? Wasn’t lead bad for kids? No, that waspencils. No, that was graphite…
I flexed21 my right arm and its mate. No more numbness22. The pain hadn’t abatedbut I was starting to feel human.
I said, “For this to be cruda—credulab—cred-i-ble shouldn’t it be notarypublicked?”
Hauser licked his lips. His glasses had slid down again but he didn’t try toadjust them. “Stop faking. I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But the question is still…revelant…”
“You write, I’ll worry about what’s relevant.”
The pen had stopped trying to escape my hand, settled awkwardly between ringfinger and pinky. I managed to roll it into writing position.
Allison watched me.
I was scaring her.
A pen made of lead; what would the EPA think of that?
I said, “So I write. Now. How?”
Hauser said, “What do you mean, how?”
“What words do I tell?”
“Start by acknowledging that you’re a pathological liar23 unfit to practice.”
“Should I use first person?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” Hauser’s jowls shook with rage. His arm did,too, and once more the knife danced away from Allison’s skin.
Not a good multitasker.
His right hand dug in and twisted Allison’s hair. She gasped24, closed hereyes, and bit her lip.
I said, “Please stop hurting her.”
“I’m not hurting her—”
“You’re pulling her hair,” I said.
Hauser looked down at his hand. Stopped twisting. “This isn’t about her.”
“My point.”
“You don’t have a point,” he said. “You owe me. If I wanted to hurt you, Icould’ve used a club or something. All I did was sucker punch you with my barehand. Same way you did me. I hurt my knuckles25 doing it. I’m not a violentperson, all I want is justice.”
“Kicked me in the ribs26, “ I said, sounding like a petulant27 child.
“When you punched me at that restaurant, you escalated28 the level ofviolence. All I wanted to do was talk rationally. Blame yourself.”
“You scared me at the restaurant,” I said.
That brought a smile to his lips. “Are you scared now?”
“Yeah.”
“Then harness the fear—sublimate. Start writing and we can all go home.”
I knew he was lying but I believed him. Tried another smile.
He stared past me.
Allison glanced at her purse. Blinked several times.
I said, “How ’bout I start like this: My name is Alex Demlaware, I’m acrinical psychologist licensed29 by the state of California, my license30 number is 45…”
Droning on. Hauser followed with choppy movements of his head. Warming tothe recitation because it was everything he wanted to hear.
“Fine. Write.”
I leaned over the desk, shielding his view of my right hand with my left arm.Lowering the nib31 of the pen to just above the paper, I made writing motions.
“Oops,” I said. “Out of ink.”
“Bullshit, don’t try—”
I held up the pen. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Hauser thought. The knife drifted. “Get another one out of the drawer. Don’tagitate me.”
I struggled to my feet, holding the chair for support. “Should I lean overthe desk or go around?”
“Go around. That way.” Pointing to the right.
Circling toward the front of the desk, I grazed Allison’s purse with mysleeve. Opened the drawer, took out several pens, rested for breath. No act; myribs felt like bonemeal.
On the return trip, I touched the purse again, hazarded a look.
Unzipped. Allison’s bad habit. I’d given up lecturing to her about it.
I pretended to bang my knee against the desk corner. Cried out in pain anddropped the pens.
“Idiot!”
“My balance is off. I think you knocked something loose.”
“Bullshit, I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“I passed out. Maybe I’ve got a concussion32.”
“Your head was stationary33 and if you had a rudimentary knowledge ofneuropsych you’d know that severe concussions34 result most often from twoobjects in motion colliding.”
I looked at the carpet.
“Pick them up!”
I bent35, collected the pens. Straightened and made my way back as Hauserwatched.
The knife had shifted a few inches from Allison’s throat but his right handkept a firm hold on her hair.
I met her eyes. Edged to the right, farther from Hauser. That relaxed him.
Allison blinked.
I said, “One thing…”
Before Hauser could answer, Allison struck out at his knife arm, twistedaway, and slid out of his grasp.
He shouted. She ran toward the door. He went after her. I had the purse,groped with tingling36 fingers, found it.
Allison’s shiny little automatic, perfect for her small hand, too small formine. She’d oiled it recently and maybe some of the lubricant had made its wayto the grip. Or my motor skills were shot and that’s why my shaking armsbobbled the weapon.
I caught it, used both hands to steady my aim.
Hauser was a foot behind Allison, flushed and huffing, knife held high. Hemade a grab for her, caught another handful of hair, yanked her head back,chopped down.
I shot him in the back of the knee.
He didn’t fall immediately so I blew out the other knee.
For good measure.
收听单词发音 |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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aerobic
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| adj.需氧的，增氧健身法的，有氧的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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amateurish
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| n.业余爱好的，不熟练的 | |
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clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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baggy
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| adj.膨胀如袋的，宽松下垂的 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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irises
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| n.虹( iris的名词复数 )；虹膜；虹彩；鸢尾（花） | |
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slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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inhaling
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| v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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desktop
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| n.桌面管理系统程序；台式 | |
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retract
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| vt.缩回，撤回收回，取消 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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flexed
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| adj.[医]曲折的，屈曲v.屈曲( flex的过去式和过去分词 )；弯曲；（为准备大干而）显示实力；摩拳擦掌 | |
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numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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escalated
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| v.（使）逐步升级( escalate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）逐步扩大；（使）更高；（使）更大 | |
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licensed
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| adj.得到许可的v.许可，颁发执照(license的过去式和过去分词) | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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nib
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| n.钢笔尖；尖头 | |
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concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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concussions
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| n.震荡( concussion的名词复数 )；脑震荡；冲击；震动 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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