He arrived back at his house at quarter past ten, got out of the car, and started for the house. Halfway1 there, he turned back and opened the trunk. The hat sat inside, black and final, a real toad2 in an imaginary garden. He picked it up, not being so choosy of how he handled it this time, slammed the trunk shut, and went into the house.
He stood in the front hallway, not sure what he wanted to do next ... and suddenly, for no reason at all, he put the hat on his head. He shuddered3 when he did it, the way a man will sometimes shudder4 after swallowing a mouthful of raw liquor. But the shudder passed.
And the hat felt like quite a good fit, actually.
He went slowly into the master bathroom, turned on the light, and positioned himself in front of the mirror. He almost burst out laughing - he looked like the man with the pitchfork in that Grant Wood painting, 'American Gothic.' He looked like that even though the guy in the picture was bareheaded. The hat covered Mort's hair completely, as it had covered Shooter's (if Shooter had hair - that was yet to be determined5, although Mort supposed that he would know for sure the next time he saw him, since Mort now had his chapeau), and just touched the tops of his ears. It was pretty funny. A scream, in fact.
Then the restless voice in his head asked, Why'd you put it on? Who'd you think you'd look like? Him? and the laughter died. Why had he put the hat on in the first place?
He wanted you to, the restless voice said quietly.
Yes? But why? Why would Shooter want Mort to put on his hat?
Maybe he wants you to ...
Yes? he prompted the restless voice again. Wants me to what?
He thought the voice had gone away and was reaching for the light-switch when it spoke6 again.
... to get confused, it said.
The phone rang then, making him jump. He snatched the hat off guiltily (a little like a man who fears he may be caught trying on his wife's underwear) and went to answer it, thinking it would be Greg, and it would turn out Tom was at Greg's house. Yes, of course, that was what had happened; Tom had called Greg, had told him about Shooter and Shooter's threats, and Greg had taken the old man to his place. To protect him. It made such perfect sense that Mort couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before.
Except it wasn't Greg. It was Herb Creekmore.
'Everything's arranged,' Herb said cheerfully. 'Marianne came through for me. She's a peach.'
'Marianne?' Mort asked stupidly.
'Marianne Jaffery, at EQMM!' Herb said. 'EQMM? "Sowing Season"? June, 1980? You understand dese t'ings, bwana?'
'Oh,' Mort said. 'Oh, good! Thanks, Herb! Is it for sure?'
'Yep. You'll have it tomorrow - the actual magazine, not just a Xerox7 of the story. It's coming up from PA Federal Express. Have you heard anything else from Mr Shooter?'
'Not yet,' Mort said., looking down at the black hat in his hand. He could still smell the odd, evocative aroma8 it held.
'Well, no news is good news, they say. Did you talk to the local law?'
Had he promised Herb he would do that? Mort couldn't remember for sure, but he might have. Best to play safe, anyway. 'Yes. Old Dave Newsome didn't exactly burst a gasket. He thought the guy was probably just playing games.' It was downright nasty to lie to Herb, especially after Herb had done him such a favor, but what sense would it make to tell him the truth? It was too crazy, too complicated.
'Well you passed it along. I think that's important, Mort - I really do.'
'Yes.'
'Anything else?'
'No - but thanks a million for this. You saved my life.' And maybe, he thought, that wasn't just a figure of speech.
'My pleasure. Remember that in small towns, FedEx usually delivers right to the local post office. Okay?'
'Yeah.'
'How's the new book coming? I've really been wanting to ask.'
'Great!' Mort cried heartily9.
'Well, good. Get this guy off your back and turn to it. Work has saved many a better man than you or me, Mort.'
'I know. Best to your lady.'
'Thanks. Best to -' Herb stopped abruptly10, and Mort could almost see him biting his lip. Separations were hard to get used to. Amputees kept feeling the foot which was no longer there, they said. '- to you,' he finished.
'I got it,' Mort said. 'Take care, Herbert.'
He walked slowly out to the deck and looked down at the lake. There were no boats on it today. I'm one step up, no matter what else happens. I can show the man the goddam magazine. It may not tame him . . . but then again, it may. He's crazy, after all, and you never know what people from the fabled11 tribe of the Crazy Folks will or won't do. That is their dubious12 charm. Anything is possible.
It was even possible that Greg was at home after all, he thought - he might have forgotten their meeting at the Parish Hall, or something totally unrelated to this business might have come up. Feeling suddenly hopeful, Mort went to the telephone and dialled Greg's number. The phone was on the third ring when he remembered Greg saying the week before that his wife and kids were going to spend some time at his in-laws'. Megan starts school next year, and it'll be harder for them to get away, he'd said.
So Greg had been alone.
(the hat)
Like Tom Greenleaf.
(the car)
The young husband and the old widower13.
(the keys)
And how does it work? Why, as simple as ordering a Roger Whittaker tape off the TV. Shooter goes to Tom Greenleafs house, but not in his station wagon14 - oh no, that would be too much like advertising15. He leaves his car parked in Mort Rainey's driveway, or maybe around the side of the house. He goes to Tom's in the Buick. Forces Tom to call Greg. Probably gets Greg out of bed, but Greg has got Tom on his mind and comes in a hurry. Then Shooter forces Tom to call Sonny Trotts and tell Sonny he doesn't feel well enough to come to work. Shooter puts a screwdriver16 against old Tom's jugular17 and suggests that if Tom doesn't make it good, he'll be one sorry old coot. Tom makes it good enough ... although even Sonny, not too bright and just out of bed, realizes that Tom doesn't sound like himself at all. Shooter uses the screwdriver on Tom. And when Greg Carstairs arrives, he uses the screwdriver - or something like it - on him. And ...
You've gone shit out of your mind. This is just a bad case of the screaming meemies and that's all. Repeat: that ... IS ... ALL.
That was reasonable, but it didn't convince him. It wasn't a Chesterfield. It didn't satisfy.
Mort walked rapidly through the downstairs part of the house, tugging18 and twirling at his hair.
What about the trucks? Tom's Scout19, Greg's Ranger20? Add the Buick and you're thinking about three vehicles here - four if you count in Shooter's Ford21 wagon, and Shooter is just one man.
He didn't know ... but he knew that enough was enough.
When he arrived at the telephone again, he pulled the phone book out of its drawer and started looking for the town constable's number. He stopped abruptly.
One of those vehicles was the Buick, my Buick.
He put the telephone down slowly. He tried to think of a way Shooter could have handled all of the vehicles. Nothing came. It was like sitting in front of the word processor when you were tapped for ideas - you got nothing but a blank screen. But he did know he didn't want to call Dave Newsome. Not yet. He was walking away from the telephone, headed toward no place in particular, when it rang.
It was Shooter.
'Go to where we met the other day,' Shooter said. 'Walk down the path a little way. You impress me as a man who thinks the way old folks chew their food, Mr Rainey, but I'm willing to give you all the time you need. I'll call back late this afternoon. Anybody you call between now and then is your responsibility.'
'What did you do?' he asked again. This time his voice was robbed of all force, little more than a whisper. 'What in the world did you do?'
But there was only a dead line.
1 halfway | |
adj.中途的,不彻底的,部分的;adv.半路地,在中途,在半途 | |
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2 toad | |
n.蟾蜍,癞蛤蟆 | |
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3 shuddered | |
v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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4 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
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5 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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6 spoke | |
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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7 xerox | |
n./v.施乐复印机,静电复印 | |
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8 aroma | |
n.香气,芬芳,芳香 | |
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9 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
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10 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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11 fabled | |
adj.寓言中的,虚构的 | |
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12 dubious | |
adj.怀疑的,无把握的;有问题的,靠不住的 | |
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13 widower | |
n.鳏夫 | |
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14 wagon | |
n.四轮马车,手推车,面包车;无盖运货列车 | |
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15 advertising | |
n.广告业;广告活动 a.广告的;广告业务的 | |
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16 screwdriver | |
n.螺丝起子;伏特加橙汁鸡尾酒 | |
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17 jugular | |
n.颈静脉 | |
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18 tugging | |
n.牵引感v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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19 scout | |
n.童子军,侦察员;v.侦察,搜索 | |
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20 ranger | |
n.国家公园管理员,护林员;骑兵巡逻队员 | |
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21 Ford | |
n.浅滩,水浅可涉处;v.涉水,涉过 | |
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