dk.coldfire-第57章

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！


　He　seemed　on　the　verge　of　surrendering　to　the　dark　force　that　he'd　held　within　…and　nurtured…all　these　years　and　that　now　wanted　its　freedom。　
　She　jerked　him　away　from　the　car；　put　her　arms　around　him；　held　him　tight；　tighter；　repeating　his　name；　expecting　the　sidewalk　to　erupt　in　geysers　of　brick；　expecting　to　be　seized　by　serrated　pincers；　tentacles；　or　cold　damp　hands　of　inhuman　design。　But　the　triple…thud　heartbeat　faded；　and　after　a　while　Jim　raised　his　arms　and　put　them　around　her。　
　The　Enemy　had　passed。　
　But　it　was　only　a　temporary　reprieve。　
　Svenborg　Memorial　Park　was　adjacent　to　Tivoli　Gardens。　The　cemetery　was　separated　from　the　park　by　a　spearpoint　wrought…iron　fence　and　a　mix　of　trees…mostly　white　cedars　and　spreading　California　Peppers。　
　Jim　drove　slowly　along　the　service　road　that　looped　through　the　graveyard。　〃Here。〃　He　pulled　to　the　side　and　stopped。　
　When　he　got　out　of　the　Ford；　he　felt　almost　as　claustrophobic　as　he　had　in　the　pharmacy；　even　though　he　was　standing　in　the　open　air。　
　The　slatedark　sky　seemed　to　press　down　toward　the　gray　granite　monuments；　while　those　rectangles　and　squares　and　spires　strained　up　like　the　knobs　of　ancient　time…stained　bones　half　buried　in　the　earth。　
　In　that　dreary　light；　the　grass　looked　gray…green。　The　trees　were　gray…green；　too；　and　seemed　to　loom　precariously；　as　if　about　to　topple　on　him。　
　Going　around　the　car　to　Holly's　side；　he　pointed　north。　〃There。〃　
　She　took　his　hand。　He　was　grateful　to　her　for　that。　
　Together　they　walked　to　his　grandparents'　grave　site。　It　was　on　a　slight　rise　in　the　generally　flat　cemetery：　A　single　rectangular　granite　marker　served　both　plots。　
　Jim's　heart　was　beating　hard；　and　he　had　difficulty　swallowing。　
　Her　name　was　chiseled　into　the　right…hand　side　of　the　monument。　
　LENA　LOUISE　IRONHEART。　
　Reluctantly　he　looked　at　the　dates　of　her　birth　and　death。　She　had　been　fifty…three　when　she　died。　And　she　had　been　dead　twenty…four　years。　
　This　must　be　what　it　felt　like　to　have　been　brainwashed；　to　have　had　one's　memory　painted　over；　false　memories　air…brushed　into　the　blanks　His　past　seemed　like　a　fogbound　landscape　revealed　only　by　the　eerie　and　inconstant　luminescent　face　of　a　cloud…shrouded　moon。　He　suddenly　could　not　see　back　through　the　years　with　the　same　clarity　he　had　enjoyed　an　hour　ago；　and　he　could　not　trust　the　reality　of　what　he　still　did　see；　clear　recollections　might　prove　to　be　nothing　more　than　tricks　of　fog　and　shadow　when　he　was　forced　to　confront　them　closely。　
　Disoriented　and　afraid；　he　held　fast　to　Holly's　hand。　
　〃Why　did　you　lie　to　me　about　this；　why　did　you　say　five　years？〃　she　asked　gently。　
　〃I　didn't　lie。　At　least。　。　。　I　didn't　realize　I　was　lying。〃　He　stared　at　the　granite　as　if　its　polished　surface　was　a　window　into　the　past；　and　he　struggled　to　remember。　〃I　can　recall　waking　up　one　morning　and　knowing　that　my　grandmother　was　dead。　Five　years　ago。　I　was　living　in　the　apartment　then；　down　in　Irvine。〃　He　listened　to　his　own　voice　as　if　it　belonged　to　someone　else；　and　the　haunted　tone　of　it　gave　him　a　chill。　〃I　dressed。　。　。　
　drove　north。　。　。　bought　flowers　in　town。　。　。　then　came　here。　。　。　
　。〃　
　After　a　while；　when　he　did　not　continue；　Holly　said；　〃Do　you　remember　a　funeral　that　day？〃　〃No。〃　
　〃Other　mourners？〃　〃No。〃　
　〃Other　flowers　on　the　grave？〃　〃No。　All　I　remember　is。　。　。　kneeling　at　the　headstone　with　the　flowers　I'd　brought　for　her。　。　。　crying。　。　。　I　cried　for　a　long　time；　couldn't　stop　crying。〃　
　Passing　him　on　the　way　to　other　graves；　people　had　looked　at　him　with　sympathy；　then　with　embarrassment　as　they　had　realized　the　extent　of　his　emotional　collapse；　then　with　uneasiness　as　they　had　seen　a　grief　in　him　so　wild　that　it　made　him　seem　unbalanced。　He　could　even　now　remember　how　wild　he　had　felt　that　day；　glaring　back　at　those　who　stared　at　him；　wanting　nothing　more　than　to　claw　his　way　down　into　the　earth　and　pull　it　over　him　as　if　it　were　a　blanket；　taking　rest　in　the　same　hole　as　his　grandmother。　But　he　could　not　remember　why　he　had　felt　that　way　or　why　he　was　beginning　to　feel　that　way　again。　
　He　looked　at　the　date　of　her　death　once　more…September　25…and　he　was　too　frightened　now　to　cry。　
　〃What　is　it？　Tell　me；〃　Holly　urged。　
　〃That's　when　I　came　with　the　flowers；　the　only　other　time　I've　ever　e；　the　day　I　remember　as　the　day　she　died。　September　twenty…fifth。　。　
　。　but　five　years　ago；　not　twenty…four。　It　was　the　nineteenth　anniversary　of　her　death。　。　。　but　at　the　time　it　seemed　to　me；　and　always　has；　that　she'd　only　just　then　died。〃　
　They　were　both　silent。　
　Two　large　blackbirds　wheeled　across　the　somber　sky；　shrieking；　and　disappeared　over　the　treetops。　
　Finally　Holly　said；　〃Could　it　be；　you　denied　her　death；　refused　to　accept　it　when　it　really　happened；　twenty…four　years　ago？　Maybe　you　were　only　able　to　accept　it　nineteen　years　later。　。　。　the　day　you　came　here　with　the　flowers。　That's　why　you　remember　her　dying　so　much　more　recently　than　she　did。　You　date　her　death　from　the　day　you　finally　accepted　it。〃　
　He　knew　at　once　that　she　had　hit　upon　the　truth；　but　the　answer　did　not　make　him　feel　better。　〃But　Holly；　my　God；　that　is　madness。〃　
　〃No；〃　she　said　calmly。　〃It's　self　defense；　part　of　the　same　defenses　you　erected　to　hide　so　much　of　that　year　when　you　were　ten。〃　
　She　paused；　took　a　deep　breath；　and　said；　〃Jim；　how　did　your　grandma　die？〃　〃She。　。　。〃　He　was　surprised　to　realize　that　he　could　not　recall　the　cause　of　Lena　Ironheart's　death。　One　more　fog…filled　blank。　〃I　don't　know。〃　
　〃I　think　she　died　in　the　mill。〃　
　He　looked　away　from　the　tombstone；　at　Holly。　He　tensed　with　alarm；　although　he　did　not　know　why。　〃In　the　windmill？　How？　What　happened？　How　can　you　know？〃　〃The　dream　I　told　you　about。　Climbing　the　mill　stairs；　looking　through　the　window　at　the　pond　below；　and　seeing　another　woman's　face　reflected　in　the　glass；　your　grandmother's　face。〃　
　〃It　was　only　a　dream。〃　
　Holly　shook　her　head。　〃No；　I　think　it　was　a　memory；　your　memory；　which　you　projected　from　your　sleep　into　mine。〃　
　His　heart　fluttered　with　panic　for　reasons　he　could　not　quite　discern。　
　〃How　can　it　have　been　my　memory　if　I　don't　have　it　now？〃　〃You　have　it。〃　
　He　frowned。　〃No。　Nothing　like　that。〃　
　〃It's　locked　down　in　your　subconscious；　where　you　can　access　it　only　when　you're　dreaming；　but　it's　there；　all　right。〃　
　If　she　had　told　him　that　the　entire　cemetery　was　mounted　on　a　carousel；　and　that　they　were　slowly　spinning　around　under　the　bleak　gun…metal　sky；　he　would　have　accepted　what　she　said　more　easily　than　he　could　accept　the　memory　toward　which　she　was　leading　him。　He　felt　as　if　he　were　spinning　through　light　and　darkness；　light　and　darkness；　fear　and　rage。　
　。　。　。　
　With　great　effort；　he　said；　〃But　in　your　dream。　。　。　I　was　in　the　high　room　when　grandma　got　there。〃　
　〃Yes。〃　
　〃And　if　she　died　there。　。　。〃　
　〃You　witnessed　her　death。〃　
　He　shook　his　head　adamantly。　〃No。　My　God；　I'd　remember　that　don't　you　think？〃　〃No。　I　think　that's　why　you　needed　nineteen　years　even　to　admit　to　yourself　that　she　died。　I　think　you　saw　her　die；　and　it　was　such　a　shock　that　it　threw　you　into　long…term　amnesia；　which　you　overlaid　with　fantasies；　always　more　fantasies。〃　
　A　breeze　stirred；　and　something　crackled　around　his　feet。　He　was　sure　it　was　the　bony　hands　of　his　grandmother　clawing　out　of　the　earth　to　seize　him；　but　when　he　looked　down　he　saw　only　withered　leaves　rattling　against　one　another　as　they　blew　across　the　grass。　
　With　each　heartbeat　now　like　a　fist　slamming　into　a　punching　bag；　Jim　turned　away　from　the　grave；　eager　to　get　back　to　the　car。　
　Holly　put　a　hand　on　his　arm。　〃Wait。〃　
　He　tore　loose　of　her；　almost　shoved　her　away。　He　glared　at　her　and　said；　〃I　want　to　get　out　of　here。〃　
　Undeterred；　she　grabbed　and　halted　him　again。　〃Jim；　where　is　your　grandfather？　Where　is　he　buried？〃　Jim　pointed　to　the　plot　beside　his　grandmother's。　〃He's　there；　of　course；　with　her。〃　
　Then　he　saw　the　left　half　of　the　granite　monument。　He　had　been　so　intently　focused　on　the　right　half；　on　the　impossible　date　of　his　grandmother's　death；　that　he　had　not　noticed　what　was　missing　from　the　left　side。　His　grandfather's　name　was　there；　as　it　should　be；　engraved　at　the　same　time　that　Lena's　had　been：　HENRY　JAMES　IRONHEART。　And　the　date　Of　his　birth。　But　that　was　all。　The　date　of　his　death　had　never　been　chiseled　into　the　stone。　
　The　iron　sky　was　pressing　lower。　
　The　trees　seemed　to　be　leaning　closer；　arching　over　him。　
　Holly　said；　〃Didn't　you　say　he　died　eight　months　after　Lena？〃　His　mouth　was　dry。　He　could　hardly　work　up　enough　spit　to　speak；　and　the　words　came　out　in　dry　whispers　like　susurrant　bursts　of　sand　blown　against　desert　stone。　〃What　the　hell　do　you　want　from　me？　I　told　you。　
　。　。　
　eight　months。　。　。　May　twenty…fourth　of　the　next　year。　。　。　。〃　
　〃How　did　he　die？〃　〃I。　。　。　I　don't。　。　。　I　don't　remember。〃　
　〃Illness？〃　Shut　up；　shut　up！　〃I　don't　know。〃　
　〃An　accident？〃　〃I。　。　。　just。　。　。　I　think。　。　。　I　think　it　was　a　stroke。〃　
　Large　parts　of　the　past　were　mists　within　a　mist。　He　realized　now　that　he　rarely　thought　about　the　past。　He　lived　totally　in　the　present。　
　He　had　never　realized　there　were　huge　holes　in　his　memories　simply　because　there　were　so　many　things　he　had　never　before　tried　to　remember。　
　〃Weren't　you　your　grandfather's　nearest　relative？〃　Holly　asked。　
　〃Yes。〃　
　〃Didn't　you　attend　to　the　details　of　his　funeral？〃　He　hesitated；　frowning。　〃I　think。　。　。　yes。　。　。〃　
　〃Then　did　you　just　forget　to　have　the　date　of　his　death　added　to　the　headstone？〃　He　stared　at　the　blank　spot　in　the　granite；　frantically　searching　an　equally　blank　spot　in　his　memory；　unable　to　answer　her。　He　felt　sick。　
　He　wanted　to　curl　up　and　close　his　eyes　and　sleep　and　never　wake　up；　let　something　else　wake　up　in　his　place。　。　。　。　
　She　said；　〃Or　did　you　bury　him　somewhere　else？〃　Across　the　ashes　of　the　burnt…out　sky；　the　shrieking　blackbirds　swooped　again；　slashing　calligraphic　messages　with　their　wings；　their　meaning　no　more　decipherable　than　the　elusive　memories　darting　through　the　deeper　grayness　of　Jim's　mind。　
　Holly　drove　them　around　the　corner　to　Tivoli　Gardens。　
　When　they　had　left　the　pharmacy；　Jim　had　wanted　to　drive　to　the　cemetery；　worried　about　what　he　would　find　there　but　at　the　same　time　eager　to　confront　his　misremembered　past　and　wrench　his　recollections　into　line　with　the　truth。　The　experience　at　the　grave　site　had　shaken　him；　however；　and　now　he　was　no　longer　in　a　rush　to　find　out　what　additional　surprise　awaited　him。　He　was　content　to　let　Holly　drive；　and　she　suspected　that　he　would　be　happier　if　she　just　drove　out　of　town；　turned　south；　and　never　spoke　to　him　of　New　Svenborg　again。　
　The　park　was　too　small　to　have　a　service　road。　They　left　the　car　at　the　street　and　walked　in。　
　Holly　decided　that　Tivoli　Gardens　was　even　less　inviting　close　up　than　it　had　been　when　glimpsed　from　a　moving　car　yesterday。　The　dreary　impression　it　made　could　not　be　blamed　solely　on　the　overcast　sky。　The　grass　was　half　parched　from　weeks　of　summer　sun；　which　could　be　quite　intense　in　any　central　California　valley。　Leggy　runners　had　sprouted　unchecked　from　the　rose　bushes；　the　few　remaining　blooms　were　faded　and　dropping　petals　in　the