HAVING FURTHER SEARED THE ROOTS OF THE potted palm with his mighty1 Manheim urine, which he could probably have bottled and sold to his father’s craziest fans, Fric shopped the library shelves for a book, mindful that Mr. Truman had said not to dawdle2.
In case they didn’t make s’mores and sit on the floor telling scary stories, he took the trouble of finding a book that he might actually enjoy reading. He figured that he would be awake most of this long night, and not because he was excited about Christmas Eve coming in just two days. If he didn’t have a book to pass the time, he would go as crazy as Barbra Streisand’s two-headed cat.
He had just found a novel that looked good when he heard noise overhead: a shimmering3, bright music much like the soft ringing of a hundred tiny wind chimes all agitated4 at once.
When he looked up at the stained-glass dome5, he saw hundreds of pieces of glass break out of the leading and fall toward him.
No. Not glass. The stained-glass mosaic6 remained in place across the entire arc of the thirty-foot dome. Shards7 of color and shadow fell out of the glass without breaking it, fell through it from the night above or maybe from somewhere immeasurably stranger than the night.
[556] The shards fell slowly, not to the demand of gravity, and as they drifted down they changed color. As they changed color, they tumbled upon one another and fused together. As they fused together, they acquired greater dimension and a form.
The gathered shards became Mysterious Caller, whom Fric had most recently seen pictured in the Los Angeles Times in the rose room this afternoon, whom he had last encountered life-size in the memorabilia maze8 the previous night. As the guardian9 angel had on that occasion glided10 without benefit of wings from rafters to attic11 floor, so now he descended12 with soundless grace to the carpet only a few feet from Fric.
“You have this knack13 for entrances,” Fric said, but his shaky voice belied14 his cocky Hollywood-kid attitude.
“Moloch is here,” the guardian declared in a tone of voice so dire15 that it would have made Fric’s heart clench16 and then punch his ribs17 even if the message had been a fraction as terrifying as this. “Run to your deep and special place, Fric. Run now.”
Pointing to the stained-glass dome, Fric said, “Why don’t you just take me up there, out of here, where you came from, where I’ll be safe?”
“I told you, boy, you must make your own choices, exercise your free will, and save yourself.”
“But I—”
“Besides, you can’t go to the places I go or travel by the means I do, not until you’re dead.” The guardian stepped closer, leaned forward, thrusting his pallid18 face within an inch of Fric’s. “Do you want to die horribly just to be able to travel more conveniently?”
Fric’s hammering heart knocked all the words out of his throat before he could speak them, and as he struggled to sputter19 through his silence, he was lifted off his feet and held high by his weird20 guardian.
“Moloch is in the house. Hide, boy, for God’s sake, hide.”
With that, Mysterious Caller threw Fric as though he were only a bundle of rags, but threw him with a magical knack that prevented [557] him from crashing hard into furniture. Instead, he tumbled in slow motion across the library, over the club chairs and tables, past the islands of bookshelves.
As he rotated on a curious axis21, head over heels, Fric saw the photograph of the pretty lady, his make-believe mom, which had slipped out of his pocket and now drifted lazily beside him through the air, in his sphere of influence. Like an astronaut reaching for a floating tube of food in the gravity-free environment of a space shuttle high in orbit, he grasped for the picture but could not quite close his hand on it.
Abruptly22 he hit the floor on both feet, near the Christmas tree that was hung with angels, hit the floor running, whether he wanted to run or not, as if his legs were spellcast to churn him out of here.
Past the tree, at the open door to the library, he turned to look back.
The guardian had vanished.
The photograph was nowhere to be seen.
Moloch is in the house.
Fric fled the library, sprinting23 for the conservatory24 by the shortest route.
1 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 dawdle | |
vi.浪费时间;闲荡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 shimmering | |
v.闪闪发光,发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 dome | |
n.圆屋顶,拱顶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 mosaic | |
n./adj.镶嵌细工的,镶嵌工艺品的,嵌花式的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 shards | |
n.(玻璃、金属或其他硬物的)尖利的碎片( shard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 maze | |
n.迷宫,八阵图,混乱,迷惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 guardian | |
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 attic | |
n.顶楼,屋顶室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 knack | |
n.诀窍,做事情的灵巧的,便利的方法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 belied | |
v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 );证明(或显示)…为虚假;辜负;就…扯谎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 clench | |
vt.捏紧(拳头等),咬紧(牙齿等),紧紧握住 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 ribs | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 pallid | |
adj.苍白的,呆板的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 sputter | |
n.喷溅声;v.喷溅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 axis | |
n.轴,轴线,中心线;坐标轴,基准线 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 sprinting | |
v.短距离疾跑( sprint的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 conservatory | |
n.温室,音乐学院;adj.保存性的,有保存力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |