He paid his seventy-five cents at the Augusta toll1 plaza2, then pulled into the parking area by the telephones on the far side. The day was sunny, chilly3, and windy - coming out of the southwest from the direction of Litchfield and running straight and unbroken across the open plain where the turnpike plaza lay, that wind was strong enough to bring tears to Mort's eyes. He relished4 it, all the same. He could almost feel it blowing the dust out of rooms inside his head which had been closed and shuttered too long.
He used his credit card to call Herb Creekmore in New York - the apartment, not the office. Herb wouldn't actually make it to James and Creekmore, Mort Rainey's literary agency, for another hour or so, but Mort had known Herb long enough to guess that the man had probably been through the shower by now and was drinking a cup of coffee while he waited for the bathroom mirror to unsteam so he could shave.
He was lucky for the second time in a row. Herb answered in a voice from which most of the sleep-fuzz had departed. Am I on a roll this morning, or what? Mort thought, and grinned into the teeth of the cold October wind. Across the four lanes of highway, he could see men stringing snowfence in preparation for the winter which lay just over the calendar's horizon.
'Hi, Herb,' he said. 'I'm calling you from a pay telephone outside the Augusta toll plaza. My divorce is final, my house in Derry burned flat last night, some nut killed my cat, and it's colder than a well-digger's belt buckle5 - are we having fun yet?'
He hadn't realized how absurd his catalogue of woes6 sounded until he heard himself reciting them aloud, and he almost laughed. jesus, it was cold out here, but didn't it feel good! Didn't it feel clean!
'Mort?' Herb said cautiously, like a man who suspects a practical joke.
'At your service,' Mort said.
'What's this about your house?'
'I'll tell you, but only once. Take notes if you have to, because I plan to be back in my car before I freeze solid to this telephone.' He began with John Shooter and John Shooter's accusation7. He finished with the conversation he'd had with Amy last night.
Herb, who had spent a fair amount of time as Mort and Amy's guest (and who had been entirely8 dismayed by their breakup, Mort guessed), expressed his surprise and sorrow at what had happened to the house in Derry. He asked if Mort had any idea who had done it. Mort said he didn't.
'Do you suspect this guy Shooter?' Herb asked. 'I understand the significance of the cat being killed only a short time before you woke up, but -'
'I guess it's technically9 possible, and I'm not ruling it out completely,' Mort said, 'but I doubt it like hell. Maybe it's only because I can't get my mind around the idea of a man burning down a twenty-four-room house in order to get rid of a magazine. But I think it's mostly because I met him. He really believes I stole his story, Herb. I mean, he has no doubts at all. His attitude when I told him I could show him proof was "Go ahead, motherfucker, make my day." '
'Still ... you called the police, didn't you?'
'Yeah, I made a call this morning,' Mort said, and while this statement was a bit disingenuous10, it was not an out-and-out lie. He had made a call this morning. To Greg Carstairs. But if he told Herb Creekmore, whom he could visualize11 sitting in the living room of his New York apartment in a pair of natty12 tweed pants and a strap-style tee-shirt, that he intended to handle this himself, with only Greg to lend a hand, he doubted if Herb would understand. Herb was a good friend, but he was something of a stereotype13: Civilized14 Man, late-twentieth-century model, urban and urbane15. He was the sort of man who believed in counselling. The sort of man who believed in meditation16 and mediation17. The sort of man who believed in discussion when reason was present, and the immediate18 delegation19 of the problem to Persons in Authority when it was absent. To Herb, the concept that sometimes a man has got to do what a man has got to do was one which had its place ... but its place was in movies starring Sylvester Stallone.
'Well, that's good.' Herb sounded relieved. 'You've got enough on your plate without worrying about some psycho from Mississippi. If they find him, what will you do? Have him charged with harassment20?'
'I'd rather convince him to take his persecution21 act and put it on the road,' Mort said. His feeling of cheery optimism, so unwarranted but indubitably real, persisted. He supposed he would crash soon enough, but for the time being, he couldn't stop grinning. So he wiped his leaking nose with the cuff22 of his coat and went right on doing it. He had forgotten how good it could feel to have a grin pasted onto your kisser.
'How will you do that?'
'With your help, I hope. You've got files of my stuff, right?'
'Right, but - '
'Well, I need you to pull the June, 1980, issue of Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine. That's the one with "Sowing Season" in it. I can't very well pull mine because of the fire, so - '
'I don't have it,' Herb said mildly.
'You don't?' Mort blinked. This was one thing he hadn't expected. 'Why not?'
'Because 1980 was two years before I came on board as your agent. I have at least one copy of everything I sold for you, but that's one of the stories you sold yourself.'
'Oh, shit!' In his mind's eye, Mort could see the acknowledgment for 'Sowing Season' in Everybody Drops the Dime23. Most of the other acknowledgments contained the line, 'Reprinted by permission of the author and the author's agents, James and Creekmore.' The one for 'Sowing Season' (and two or three other stories in the collection) read only, 'Reprinted by permission of the author.'
'Sorry,' Herb said.
'Of course I sent it in myself - I remember writing the query24 letter before I submitted. It's just that it seems like you've been my agent forever.' He laughed a little then and added, 'No offense25.'
'None taken,' Herb said. 'Do you want me to make a call to EQMM? They must have back issues.'
'Would you?' Mort asked gratefully. 'That'd be great.'
'I'll do it first thing. Only -' Herb paused.
'Only what?'
'Promise me you're not planning to confront this guy on your own once you have a copy of the printed story in hand.'
'I promise,' Mort agreed promptly26. He was being disingenuous again, but what the hell - he had asked Greg to come along when he did it, and Greg had agreed, so he wouldn't be alone. And Herb Creekmore was his literary agent, after all, not his father. How he handled his personal problems wasn't really Herb's concern.
'Okay,' Herb said. 'I'll take care of it. Call me from Derry, Mort - maybe it isn't as bad as it seems.'
'I'd like to believe that.'
'But you don't?'
'Afraid not.'
'Okay.' Herb sighed. Then, diffidently, he added: 'Is it okay to ask you to give Amy my best?'
'It is, and I will.'
'Good. You go on and get out of the wind, Mort. I can hear it shrieking27 in the receiver. You must be freezing.'
'Getting there. Thanks again, Herb.'
He hung up and looked thoughtfully at the telephone for a moment. He'd forgotten that the Buick needed gas, which was minor28, but he'd also forgotten that Herb Creekmore hadn't been his agent until 1982, and that wasn't so minor. Too much pressure, he supposed. It made a man wonder what else he might have forgotten.
The voice in his mind, not the midbrain voice but the one from the deep ranges. spoke29 up suddenly: What about stealing the story in the first place? Maybe you forgot that.
He snorted a laugh as he hurried back to his car. He had never been to Mississippi in his life, and even now, stuck in a writer's block as he was. he was a long way from stooping to plagiarism30. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine, reflecting that a person's mind certainly got up to some weird31 shit every now and again.
收听单词发音 |
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toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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disingenuous
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| adj.不诚恳的，虚伪的 | |
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visualize
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| vt.使看得见，使具体化，想象，设想 | |
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natty
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| adj.整洁的，漂亮的 | |
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stereotype
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| n.固定的形象，陈规，老套，旧框框 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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urbane
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| adj.温文尔雅的，懂礼的 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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mediation
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| n.调解 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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delegation
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| n.代表团；派遣 | |
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harassment
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| n.骚扰，扰乱，烦恼，烦乱 | |
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persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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dime
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| n.（指美国、加拿大的钱币）一角 | |
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query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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plagiarism
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| n.剽窃，抄袭 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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