按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
around my house。 You can stay about as long as you like； depending on how many questions you want to answer。 'Cuz I'll be asking em； at least after the first time we break bread together。'
He rubbed one palm over his gray crewcut and glanced across the seat。 Lewis Farren was looking more like a boy and less like a revelation。 'You'll be wele； son。'
Smiling； the boy said； 'That's really nice of you； Mr。 Parkins； but I can't。 I have to go see my； ah； aunt in 。 。 。 '
'Buckeye Lake；' Buddy supplied。
The boy swallowed and looked forward again。
'I'll give you help； if you want help；' Buddy repeated。
Lewis patted his forearm； sunburned and thick。 'This ride is a big help； honest。'
Ten nearly silent minutes later he was watching the boy's forlorn figure trudge down the exit ramp outside Zanesville。 Emmie would probably have brained him if he'd e home with a strange dirty boy to feed； but once she'd seen him and talked to him； Emmie would have brought out the good glasses and the plates her mother had given her。 Buddy Parkins didn't believe that there was any woman named Helen Vaughan in Buckeye Lake； and he wasn't so sure this mysterious Lewis Farren even had a mother…the boy seemed such an orphan； off on a vast errand。 Buddy watched until the boy was taken by the curve of the off…ramp； and he was staring out at space and the enormous yellow…and…purple sign of a shopping mall。
For a second he thought of jumping out of the car and running after the kid； trying to get him back 。 。 。 and then he had a moment of recall of a crowded； smokey scene on the six…o'clock news。 Angola； New York。 Some disaster too small to be reported more than once； that was what had happened in Angola； one of those little tragedies the world shovels under a mountain of newsprint。 All Buddy could catch； in this short； probably flawed moment of memory； was a picture of girders strewn like giant straws over battered cars； jutting up out of a fuming hole in the ground…a hole that might lead down into hell。 Buddy Parkins looked once more at the empty place on the road where the boy had been； and then stamped on his clutch and dropped the old car into low。
3
Buddy Parkins's memory was more accurate than he imagined。 If he could have seen the first page of the month…old Angola Herald 'Lewis Farren；' that enigmatic boy； had been holding so protectively yet fearfully beneath his arm； these are the words he would have read：
FREAK EARTHQUAKE KILLS 5
by Herald staff reporter Joseph Gargan
Work on the Rainbird Towers； intended to be Angola's tallest and most luxurious condominium development and still six months from pletion； was tragically halted yesterday as an unprecedented earth tremor collapsed the structure of the building； burying many construction workers beneath the rubble。 Five bodies have been retrieved from the ruins of the proposed condominium； and two other workers have not yet been found but are presumed dead。 All seven workers were welders and fitters in the employ of Speiser Construction； and all were on the girders of the building's top two floors at the time of the incident。
Yesterday's tremor was the first earthquake in Angola's recorded history。 Armin Van Pelt of New York University's Geology Department； contacted today by telephone； described the fatal quake as a 'seismic bubble。' Representatives of the State Safety mission are continuing their examinations of the site； as is a team of 。 。 。
The dead men were Robert Heidel； twenty…three； Thomas Thielke； thirty…four； Jerome Wild； forty…eight； Michael Hagen； twenty…nine； and Bruce Davey； thirty…nine。 The two men still missing were Arnold Schulkamp； fifty…four； and Theodore Rasmussen； forty…three。 Jack no longer had to look at the newspaper's front page to remember their names。 The first earthquake in the history of Angola； New York； had occurred on the day he had flipped away from the Western Road and landed on the town's border。 Part of Jack Sawyer wished that he could have gone home with big kindly Buddy Parkins； eaten dinner around the table in the kitchen with the Parkins family…boiled beef and deep…dish apple pie…and then snuggled into the Parkinses' guest bed and pulled the homemade quilt up over his head。 And not moved； except toward the table； for four or five days。 But part of the trouble was that he saw that knotty…pine kitchen table heaped with crumbly cheese； and on the other side of the table a mouse…hole was cut into a giant baseboard； and from holes in the jeans of the three Parkins boys protruded thin long tails。 Who plays these Jerry Bledsoe changes； Daddy？ Heidel； Thielke； Wild； Hagen； Davey； Schulkamp and Rasmussen。 Those Jerry changes？ He knew who played them。
4
The huge yellow…and…purple sign reading BUCKEYE MALL floated ahead of Jack as he came around the final curve of the off…ramp； drifted past his shoulder and reappeared on his other side； at which point he could finally see that it was erected on a tripod of tall yellow poles in the shopping…center parking lot。 The mall itself was a futuristic assemblage of ochre…colored buildings that seemed to be windowless…a second later； Jack realized that the mall was covered； and what he was seeing was only the illusion of separate buildings。 He put his hand in his pocket and fingered the tight roll of twenty…three single dollar bills which was his earthly fortune。
In the cool sunlight of an early autumn afternoon； Jack sprinted across the street toward the mall's parking lot。
If it had not been for his conversation with Buddy Parkins； Jack would very likely have stayed on U。S。 40 and tried to cover another fifty miles…he wanted to get to Illinois； where Richard Sloat was； in the next two or three days。 The thought of seeing his friend Richard again had kept him going during the weary days of nonstop work on Elbert Palamountain's farm： the image of spectacled； serious…faced Richard Sloat in his room at Thayer School； in Springfield； Illinois； had fueled him as much as Mrs。 Palamountain's generous meals。 Jack still wanted to see Richard； and as soon as he could： but Buddy Parkins's inviting him home had somehow unstrung him。 He could not just climb into another car and begin all over again on the Story。 （In any case； Jack reminded himself； the Story seemed to be losing its potency。） The shopping mall gave him a perfect chance to drop out for an hour or two； especially if there was a movie theater somewhere in there…right now； Jack could have watched the dullest； soppiest Love Story of a movie。
And before the movie； were he lucky enough to find a theater； he would be able to take care of two things he had been putting off for at least a week。 Jack had seen Buddy Parkins looking at his disintegrating Nikes。 Not only were the running shoes falling apart； the soles； once spongy and elastic； had mysteriously bee hard as asphalt。 On days when he had to walk great distances…or when he had to work standing up all day…his feet stung as if they'd been burned。
The second task； calling his mother； was so loaded with guilt and other fearful emotions that Jack could not quite allow it to bee conscious。 He did not know if he could keep from weeping； once he'd heard his mother's voice。 What if she sounded weak…what if she sounded really sick？ Could he really keep going west if Lily hoarsely begged him to e back to New Hampshire？ So he could not admit to himself that he was probably going to call his mother。 His mind gave him the suddenly very clear image of a bank of pay telephones beneath their hairdryer plastic bubbles； and almost immediately bucked away from it…as if Elroy or some other Territories creature could reach right out of the receiver and clamp a hand around his throat。
Just then three girls a year or two older than Jack bounced out of the back of a Subaru Brat which had swung recklessly into a parking spot near the mall's main entrance。 For a second they had the look of models contorted into awkwardly elegant poses of delight and astonishment。 When they had adjusted into more conventional postures the girls glanced incuriously at Jack and began to flip their hair expertly back into place。 They were leggy in their tight jeans； these confident little princesses of the tenth grade； and when they laughed they put their hands over their mouths in a fashion which suggested that laughter itself was laughable。 Jack slowed his walk into a kind of sleepwalker's stroll。 One of the princesses glanced at him and muttered something to the brown…haired girl beside her。
I'm different now； Jack thought： I'm not like them any…more。 The recognition pierced him with loneliness。
A thickset blond boy in a blue sleeveless down vest climbed out of the driver's seat and gathered the girls around him by the simple expedient of pretending to ignore them。 The boy； who must have been a senior and at the very least in the varsity backfield； glanced once at Jack and then looked appraisingly at the facade of the mall。 'Timmy？' said the tall brown…haired girl。 'Yeah； yeah；' the boy said。 'I was just wondering what smells like shit out here。' He rewarded the girls with a superior little smile。 The brown…haired girl looked smirki