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！
。 A line from Thomas Wolfe occurred to him … o lost； a stone； a leaf； a unfound door。 Thomas Wolfe； whose thesis had been that you can't go home again。
'Duddits？' he whispered。 The hair on his neck had stiffened。 'Duddie； is that you？'
No answer 。 。 。 but when he looked at the desk where the useless phone had stood； he saw that something new had been added。 Not a stone or a leaf； not an unfound door； but a cribbage board and a deck of cards。
Someone wanted to play the game。
13
Hurt pretty much all the time now。 Mumma know； he tell Mumma。 Jesus know； he tell Jesus。 He don't tell Henry； Henry hurts too； Henry tired and make sad。 Beaver and Pete are in heaven where they sitteth at the right hand of God the Father all mighty； maker of heaven and earth forever and ever； Jesus' sake； hey man。 That makes him sad； they were good friends and played games but never made fun。 Once they found Josie and once they saw a tall guy； he a cowboy； and once they play the game。
This a game too； only Pete used to say Duddits it doesn't matter if you win or booze it's how you play the game only this time it does matter； it does； Jonesy say it does； Jonesy hard of hearing but pretty soon it'll be better； pretty soon。 If only he don't hurt。 Even his Perco don't help。 His throat make sore and his body shakes and his belly make hurry kind of like when he has to go poopoo； kind of like that； but he doesn't have to go poopoo； and when he cough sometimes make blood。 He would like to sleep but there is Henry and his new friend Owen that was there the day they found Josie and they say If only we could slow him down and If only we could catch up and he has to stay awake and help them but he has to close his eyes to hear Jonesy and they think he's asleep； Owen says Shouldn't we wake him up； what if the son of a bitch turns off somewhere； and Henry says I tell you I know where he's going； but we'll wake him up at 1…90 just to be sure。 For now let him sleep； my God； he looks so tired。 And again； only this time thinking it： If only we could slow the son of a bitch down。
Eyes closed。 Arms crossed over his aching chest。 Breathing slow； Mumma say breathe slow when you cough。 Jonesy's not dead； not in heaven with Beaver and Pete； but Mr Gray say Jonesy locked and Jonesy believes him。 Jonesy's in the office； no phone and no facts； hard to talk to because Mr Gray is mean and Mr Gray is scared。 Scared Jonesy will find out which one is really locked up。
When did they talk most？
When they played the game。
The game。
A shudder racks him。 He has to make hard think and it hurts； he can feel it stealing away his strength； the last little bits of his strength； but this time it's more than just a game； this time it matters who wins and who boozes； so he gives his strength； he makes the board and he makes the cards； Jonesy is crying； Jonesy thinks o lost； but Duddits Cavell isn't lost； Duddits sees the line； the line goes to the office； and this time he will do more than peg the pegs。
Don't cry Jonesy； he says； and the words are clear； in his mind they always are； it is only his stupid mouth that mushes them up。 Don't cry； I'm not lost。
Eyes closed。 Arms crossed。
In Jonesy's office； beneath the dreamcatcher； Duddits plays the game。
14
'I've got the dog；' Henry said。 He sounded exhausted。 'The one Perlmutter's homed in on。 I've got it。 We're a little bit closer。 Christ； if there was just a way to slow them down！'
It was raining now； and Owen could only hope they'd be south of the freeze…line if it went over to sleet。 The wind was gusting hard enough to sway the Hummer on the road。 It was noon； and they were between Saco and Biddeford。 Owen glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Duddits in the back seat； eyes closed； head back； skinny arms crossed on his chest。 His plexion was an alarming yellow； but a thin line of bright blood trickled from the er of his mouth。
'Is there any way your friend can help？' Owen asked。
'I think he's trying。'
'I thought you said he was asleep。'
Henry turned； looked at Duddits； then looked at Owen。 'I was wrong；' he said。
15
Jonesy dealt the cards； threw two into the crib from his hand； then picked up the other hand and added two more。
'Don't cry； Jonesy。 Don't cry； I'm not lost。'
Jonesy glanced up at the dreamcatcher； quite sure the words had e from there。 'I'm not crying； Duds。 Fuckin allergies； that's all。 Now I think you want to play…'
'Two；' said the voice from the dreamcatcher。
Jonesy played the deuce from Duddits's hand … not a bad lead； actually … then played a seven from his own。 That made nine。 Duddits had a six in his hand； the question was whether or not…
'Six for fifteen；' said the voice from the dreamcatcher。 'Fifteen for two。 Kiss my bender！'
Jonesy laughed in spite of himself It was Duddits； all right； but for a moment he had sounded just like the Beav。 'Go on and peg it； then。' And watched； fascinated； as one of the pegs on the board rose； floated； and settled back down in the second hole on First Street。
Suddenly he understood something。
'You could play all along； couldn't you； Duds？ You used to peg all crazy just because it made us laugh。' The idea brought fresh tears to his eyes。 All those years they'd thought they were playing with Duddits； he had been playing with them。 And on that day behind Tracker Brothers； who had found whom？ Who had saved whom？
'Twenty…one；' he said。
'Thirty…one for two。' From the dreamcatcher。 And once again the unseen hand lifted the peg and played it two holes farther on。 'He's blocked to me； Jonesy。'
'I know。' Jonesy played a three。 Duddits called thirteen； and Jonesy played it out of Duddits's hand。
'But you're not。 You can talk to him。'
Jonesy played his own deuce and pegged two。 Duddits played； pegged one for last card； and Jonesy thought： Outpegged by a retard … what do you know。 Except this Duddits wasn't retarded。 Exhausted and dying； but not retarded。
They pegged their hands； and Duddits was far ahead even though it had been Jonesy's crib。 Jonesy swept the cards together and began to shuffle them。
'What does he want； Jonesy？ What does he want besides water？'
Murder； Jonesy thought。 He likes to kill people。 But no more of that。 Please God； no more of that。
'Bacon；' he said。 'He does like bacon。'
He began to shuffle the cards 。 。 。 then froze as Duddits filled his mind。 The real Duddits； young and strong and ready to fight。
16
Behind them； in the back seat； Duddits groaned loudly。 Henry turned and saw fresh blood； red as byrus； running from his nostrils。 His face was twisted in a terrible cramp of concentration。 Beneath their closed lids； his eyeballs rolled rapidly back and forth。
'What's the matter with him？' Owen asked。 'I don't know。'
Duddits began to cough： deep and racking bronchial sounds。 Blood flew from between his lips in a fine spray。
'Wake him up； Henry！ For Christ's sake； wake him up！'
Henry gave Owen Underhill a frightened look。 They were approaching Kennebunkport now； no more than twenty miles from the New Hampshire border； a hundred and ten from the Quabbin Reservoir