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inside the trolley…barn…Morgan Sloat's private train…station of yore…moved with a nasty slithering bump； but Jack didn't even look toward it。
He reached the road； crossed it； and walked to the edge。
13
Near the middle of December in the year 1981； a boy named Jack Sawyer stood where the water and the land came together； hands in the pockets of his jeans； looking out at the steady Pacific。 He was twelve years old and extraordinarily beautiful for his age。 His brown hair was long…probably too long…but the sea…breeze swept it back from a fine； clear brow。 He stood thinking of his mother； who was dying； and of friends； both absent and present； and worlds within worlds； turning in their courses。
I've e the distance； he thought； and shivered。 Coast to coast with Travelling Jack Sawyer。 His eyes abruptly filled with tears。 He breathed deeply of the salt。 Here he was…and the Talisman was close by。
'Jack！'
Jack didn't look at him at first； his gaze was held by the Pacific； by the sunlight gleaming gold on top of the waves。 He was here； he had made it。 He…
'Jack！' Richard struck his shoulder； bringing him out of his daze。
'Huh？'
'Look！' Richard was gaping； pointing at something down the road； in the direction in which Point Venuti presumably lay。 'Look there！'
Jack looked。 He understood Richard's surprise； but he felt none himself…or no more than he had felt when Richard had told him the name of the motel where he and his father had stayed in Point Venuti。 No； not much surprise； but…
But it was damned good to see his mother again。
Her face was twenty feet high； and it was a younger face than Jack could remember。 It was Lily as she had looked at the height of her career。 Her hair； a glorious be…bop shade of brassy blond； was pulled back in a Tuesday Weld ponytail。 Her insouciant go…to…hell grin was； however； all her own。 No one else in films had ever smiled that way…she had invented it； and she still held the patent。 She was looking back over one bare shoulder。 At Jack 。 。 。 at Richard 。 。 。 at the blue Pacific。
It was his mother 。 。 。 but when he blinked； the face changed the slightest bit。 The line of chin and jaw grew rounder； the cheekbones less pronounced； the hair darker； the eyes an even deeper blue。 Now it was the face of Laura DeLoessian； mother of Jason。 Jack blinked again； and it was his mother again…his mother at twenty…eight； grinning her cheerful fuckya…if…you…can't…take…a…joke defiance at the world。
It was a billboard。 Across the top of it ran this legend：
THIRD ANNUAL KILLER B FILM FESTIVAL
POINT VENUTI； CALIFORNIA
BITKER THEATER
DECEMBER 10TH … DECEMBER 20TH
THIS YEAR FEATURING LILY CAVANAUGH
'QUEEN OF THE B'S'
'Jack； it's your mother；' Richard said。 His voice was hoarse with awe。 'Is it just a coincidence？ It can't be； can it？'
Jack shook his head。 No； not a coincidence。
The word his eyes kept fixing on； of course； was QUEEN。
'e on；' he said to Richard。 'I think we're almost there。'
The two of them walked side by side down the road toward Point Venuti。
CHAPTER 38
The End of the Road
1
Jack inspected Richard's drooping posture and glistening face carefully as they walked along。 Richard now looked as though he were dragging himself along on will power alone。 A few more wet…looking pimples had blossomed on his face。
'Are you okay； Richie？'
'No。 I don't feel too good。 But I can still walk； Jack。 You don't have to carry me。' He bent his head and plodded glumly on。 Jack saw that his friend； who had so many memories of that peculiar little railway and that peculiar little station； was suffering far more than he from the reality that now existed…rusty； broken ties； weeds； poison ivy 。 。 。 and at the end； a ramshackle building from which all the bright； remembered paint had faded； a building where something slithered uneasily in the dark。
I feel like my leg is caught in some stupid trap； Richard had said； and Jack thought he could understand that well enough 。 。 。 but not with the depth of Richard's understanding。 That was more understanding than he was sure he could bear。 A slice of Richard's childhood had been burned out of him； turned inside…out。 The railway and the dead station with its staring glassless windows must have seemed like dreadful parodies of themselves to Richard…yet more bits of the past destroyed in the wake of everything he was learning or admitting about his father。 Richard's entire life； as much as Jack's； had begun to fold into the pattern of the Territories； and Richard had been given much less preparation for this transformation。
2
As for what he had told Richard about the Talisman； Jack would have sworn it was the truth…the Talisman knew they were ing。 He had begun feeling it just about when he had seen the billboard shining out with his mother's picture； now the feeling was urgent and powerful。 It was as if a great animal had awakened some miles away； and its purring made the earth resonate 。 。 。 or as if every single bulb inside a hundred…story building just over the horizon had just gone on； making a blaze of light strong enough to conceal the stars 。 。 。 or as if someone had switched on the biggest magnet in the world； which was tugging at Jack's belt buckle； at the change in his pockets and the fillings in his teeth； and would not be satisfied until it had pulled him into its heart。 That great animal purring； that sudden and drastic illumination； that magnetic yearning…all these echoed in Jack's chest。 Something out there； something in the direction of Point Venuti； wanted Jack Sawyer； and what Jack Sawyer chiefly knew of the object calling him so viscerally was that it was big。 Big。 No small thing could own such power。 It was elephant…sized； city…sized。
And Jack wondered about his capacity to handle something so monumental。 The Talisman had been imprisoned in a magical and sinister old hotel； presumably it had been put there not only to keep it from evil hands but at least in part because it was hard for anybody to handle it； whatever his intentions。 Maybe； Jack wondered； Jason had been the only being capable of handling it…capable of dealing with it without doing harm either to himself or to the Talisman itself。 Feeling the strength and urgency of its call to him； Jack could only hope that he would not weaken before the Talisman。
' 'You'll understand； Rich；' ' Richard surprised him by saying。 His voice was dull and low。 'My father said that。 He said I'd understand。 'You'll understand； Rich。' '
'Yeah；' Jack said； looking worriedly at his friend。 'How are you feeling； Richard？'
In addition to the sores surrounding his mouth； Richard now had a collection of angry…looking raised red dots or bumps across his pimply forehead and his temples。 It was as though a swarm of insects had managed to burrow just under the surface of his protesting skin。 For a moment Jack had a flash of Richard Sloat on the morning he had climbed in his window at Nelson House； Thayer School； Richard Sloat with his glasses riding firmly on the bridge of his nose and his sweater tucked neatly into his pants。 Would that maddeningly correct； unbudgeable boy ever return？
'I can still walk；' Richard said。 'But is this what he meant？ Is this the understanding I was supposed to get； or have； or whatever the hell 。 。 。 ？'
'You've got something new on your face；' Jack said。 'You want to rest for a while？'
'Naw；' Richard said； still speaking from the bottom of a muddy barrel。 'And I can feel that rash。 It itches。 I think I got it all over my back； too。'
'Let me see；' Jack said。 Richard stopped in the middle of the road； obedient as a dog。 He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth。 The red spots blazed on his forehead and temples。 Jack stepped behind him； raised his jacket； and lifted the back of his stained and dirty blue button…down shirt。 The spots were smaller here； not as raised or as angry…looking； they spread from Richard's thin shoulder blades to the small of his back； no larger than ticks。
Richard let out a big dispirited unconscious sigh。
'You got em there； but it's not so bad；' Jack said。
'Thanks；' Richard said。 He inhaled； lifted his head。 Overhead the gray sky seemed heavy enough to e crashing to earth。 The ocean seethed against the rocks； far down the rough slope。 'It's only a couple of miles； really；' Richard said。 'I'll make it。'
'I'll piggyback you when you need it；' Jack said； unwittingly exposing his conviction that before long Richard would need to be carried again。
Richard shook his head and made an inefficient stab at shoving his shirt back in his trousers。 'Sometimes I think I 。 。 。 sometimes I think I can't…'
'We're going to go into that hotel； Richard；' Jack said； putting his arm through Richard's and half…forcing him to step forward。 'You and me。 Together。 I don't have the faintest idea of what happens once we get in there； but you and I are going in。 No matter who tries to stop us。 Just remember that。'
Richard gave him a look half…fearful； half…grateful。 Now Jack could see the irregular outlines of future bumps crowding beneat