sk.dreamcatcher-第22章

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　　　　Today　they　also　have　hunting　to　talk　about；　because　next　month　Mr　Clarendon　is　for　the　first　time　going　to　take　them　up　to　Hole　in　the　Wall。　They'll　be　gone　for　three　days；　two　of　them　schooldays　（there　is　no　problem　getting　permission　for　this　trip　from　the　school；　and　absolutely　no　need　to　lie　about　the　trip's　purpose；　southern　Maine　may　have　gotten　citified；　but　up　here　in　God's　country；　hunting　is　still　considered　part　of　a　young　person's　education；　especially　if　the　young　person　is　a　boy）。　The　idea　of　creeping　through　the　woods　with　loaded　rifles　while　their　friends　are　back　at　dear　old　DJHS；　just　droning　away；　strikes　them　as　incredibly；　delightfully　boss；　and　they　walk　past　The　Retard　Academy　on　the　other　side　of　the　street　without　even　seeing　it。　The　retards　get　out　at　the　same　time　as　the　kids　at　Derry　junior　High；　but　most　of　them　go　home　with　their　mothers　on　the　special　retard　bus；　which　is　blue　instead　of　yellow　and　is　reputed　to　have　a　bumper　sticker　on　it　that　says　SUPPORT　MENTAL　HEALTH　OR　I'LL　KILL　YOU。　As　Henry；　Beaver；　Jonesy；　and　Pete　walk　past　Mary　M。　Snowe　on　the　other　side；　a　few　high…functioning　retards　who　are　allowed　to　go　home　by　themselves　are　still　walking　along；　goggling　around　themselves　with　those　weird　expressions　of　perpetual　wonder。　Pete　and　his　friends　see　them　without　seeing　them；　as　always。　They　are　just　part　of　the　world's　wallpaper。
　　　　Henry；　Jonesy；　and　Pete　are　listening　closely　to　the　Beav；　who's　telling　them　that　when　they　get　to　Hole　in　the　Wall　they　have　to　get　down　in　The　Gulch；　because　that's　where　the　big　ones　always　go；　there's　bushes　down　there　that　they　like。　'Me　and　my　Dad　have　seen　about　a　billion　deer　in　there；'　he　says。　The　zippers　on　his　old　motorcycle　jacket　jingle　agreeably。
　　　　They　argue　about　who's　going　to　get　the　biggest　deer　and　where　is　the　best　place　to　shoot　one　so　you　can　bring　it　down　with　one　shot　and　it　won't　suffer。　（'Except　my　father　says　that　animals　don't　suffer　the　way　people　do　when　they　get　hurt；'　Jonesy　tells　them。　'He　says　God　made　them　different　that　way　so　it　would　be　okay　for　us　to　hunt　them。'）　They　laugh　and　squabble　and　argue　over　who　is　the　most　likely　to　blow　lunch　when　it　es　time　to　gut　their　kills；　and　The　Retard　Academy　falls　farther　and　farther　behind。　Ahead　of　them；　on　their　side　of　the　street；　looms　the　square　red　brick　building　where　Tracker　Brothers　used　to　do　business。
　　　　'If　anyone　hurls；　it　won't　be　me；'　Beaver　boasts。　'I　seen　deerguts　a　thousand　times　and　they　don't　bother　me　at　all。　I　remember　once…'
　　　　'Hey　you　guys；'　Jonesy　breaks　in；　suddenly　excited。　'You　want　to　see　Tina　Jean　Schlossinger's　pussy？'
　　　　'Who's　Tina　Jean　Sloppinger？'　Pete　asks；　but　he　is　already　intrigued。　Seeing　any　pussy　seems　like　a　great　idea　to　him；　he　is　always　looking　at　his　Dad's　Penthouse　and　Playboy　magazines；　which　his　Dad　keeps　out　in　his　workshop；　behind　the　big　Craftsman　toolbox。　Pussy　is　very　interesting。　It　doesn't　give　him　a　boner　and　make　him　feel　sexy　the　way　bare　tits　do；　but　he　guesses　that's　because　he's　still　a　kid。
　　　　And　pussy　is　interesting。
　　　　'Schlossinger；'　Jonesy　says；　laughing。　'Schlossinger；　Petesky。　The　Schlossingers　live　two　blocks　over　from　me；　and…'　He　stops　suddenly；　struck　by　an　important　question　which　must　be　answered　immediately。　He　turns　to　Henry。　'Are　the　Schlossingers　Jews　or　Republicans？'
　　　　Now　it's　Henry　laughing　at　Jonesy；　but　without　any　malice。　'Technically；　I　think　it's　possible　to　be　both　at　the　same　time　。　。　。　or　neither　one。'　Henry　pronounces　the　word　nyther　instead　of　neether；　which　impresses　Pete。　It　sounds　smart　as　a　motherfucker；　and　he　reminds　himself　to　say　it　that　way　from　now　on　…　nyther；　nyther；　nyther；　he　tells　himself　。　。　。　but　knows　somehow　that　he　win　forget；　that　he　is　one　of　those　people　condemned　to　say　neether　all　his　life。
　　　　'Never　mind　religion　and　politics；'　Henry　says；　still　laughing。　'If　you've　got　a　picture　of　Tina　Jean　Schlossinger　showing　her　pussy；　I　want　to　see　it。'
　　　　The　Beav；　meanwhile；　has　bee　visibly　excited　…　cheeks　flushed；　eyes　bright；　and　he　goes　to　stick　a　fresh　toothpick　in　his　mouth　before　the　old　one　is　even　half　finished。　The　zippers　on　his　jacket；　the　one　Beaver's　older　brother　wore　during　his　four　or　five　years　of　Fonzie…worship；　jingle　faster。
　　　　'Is　she　blonde？'　the　Beav　asks。　'Blonde；　and　in　high　school？　Super　good…looking？　Got…'　He　holds　his　hands　out　in　front　of　his　chest；　and　when　Jonesy　nods；　grinning；　Beaver　turns　to　Pete　and　blurts：　'This　year's　Homeing　Queen　up　at　the　high　school；　ringmeat！　Her　picture　was　in　the　fuckin　paper！　Up　on　that　float　with　Richie　Grenadeau？'
　　　　'Yes；　but　the　fucking　Tigers　lost　the　Homeing　game　and　Grenadeau　ended　up　with　a　broken　nose；'　Henry　says。　'First　Derry　High　team　ever　to　play　a　Class…A　team　from　southern　Maine　and　those　fools…'
　　　　'Fuck　the　Tigers；'　Pete　breaks　in。　He　has　more　interest　in　high　school　football　than　he　does　in　the　dreaded　x；　but　not　much。　Anyway；　he's　got　the　girl　placed　now；　remembers　the　newspaper　photo　of　her　standing　on　the　flower…decked　bed　of　a　pulp　truck　next　to　the　Tiger　quarterback；　both　of　them　wearing　tinfoil　crowns；　smiling；　and　waving　to　the　crowd。　The　girl's　hair　fell　around　her　face　in　big　blowy　Farrah　Fawcett　waves；　and　her　gown　was　strapless；　showing　the　tops　of　her　breasts。
　　　　For　the　first　time　in　his　life；　Pete　feels　real　lust　…　it　is　a　meaty　feeling；　red　and　heavy；　that　stiffens　his　prick；　dries　up　the　spit　in　his　mouth；　and　makes　it　hard　for　him　to　think。　Pussy　is　interesting；　the　idea　of　seeing　local　pussy；　Homeing　Queen　pussy　。　。　。　that　is　a　lot　more　than　exciting。　That　is；　as　the　Derry　News's　film　critic　sometimes　says　about　movies　she　especially　likes；　'a　must…see。'
　　　　'Where？'　he　asks　Jonesy　breathlessly。　He　is　imagining　seeing　this　girl；　this　Tina　Jean　Schlossinger；　waiting　on　the　corner　for　the　school　bus；　just　standing　there　giggling　with　her　girlfriends；　not　having　the　slightest　idea　that　the　boy　walking　past　has　seen　what　is　under　her　skirt　or　her　jeans；　that　he　knows　if　the　hair　on　her　pussy　is　the　same　color　as　the　hair　on　her　head。　Pete　is　on　fire。　'Where　is　it？'
　　　　'There；'　Jonesy　says；　and　points　at　the　red　brick　box　that　is　Tracker　Brothers　old　freight　and　storage　depot。　There　is　ivy　crawling　up　the　sides；　but　this　has　been　a　cold　fall　and　most　of　the　leaves　have　already　died　and　turned　black。　Some　of　the　windows　are　broken　and　the　rest　are　bleary。　Looking　at　the　place　gives　Pete　a　little　chin。　Partly　because　the　big　kids；　the　high…school　kids　and　even　some　that　are　beyond　high　school；　play　baseball　in　the　vacant　lot　behind　the　building；　and　big　kids　like　to　beat　up　little　kids；　who　knows　why；　it　relieved　the　monotony　or　something。　But　this　isn't　the　big　deal；　because　baseball　is　over　for　the　year　and　the　big　kids　have　probably　moved　on　to　Strawford　Park；　where　they　will　play　two…hand　touch　football　until　the　snow　flies。　（Once　the　snow　flies；　they　will　beat　each　others'　brains　in　playing　hockey　with　old　friction…taped　sticks。）　No；　the　big　deal　is　that　kids　sometimes　disappear　in　Derry；　Derry　is　funny　that　way；　and　when　they　do　disappear；　they　are　often　last　seen　in　out…of…the…way　places　like　the　deserted　Tracker　Brothers　depot。　No　one　talks　about　this　unpleasant　fact；　but　everyone　knows　about　it。
　　　　Yet　a　pussy　。　。　。　not　some　fictional　Penthouse　pussy　but　the　actual　muff　of　an　actual　girl　from　town　。　。　。　that　would　be　something　to　see；　all　right。　That　would　be　a　fuckin　pisser。
　　　　'Tracker　Brothers？'　Henry　says　with　frank　disbelief　They　have　stopped　now；　are　standing　together　in　a　little　clump　not　far　from　the　building　while　the　last　of　the　retards　go　moaning　and　goggling　by　on　the　other　side　of　the　street。　'I　think　the　world　of　you；　Jonesy；　don't　get　me　wrong　…　the　fucking　world　…　but　why　would　there　be　a　picture　of　Tina　Jean's　pussy　in　there？'
　　　　'I　don't　know；'　Jonesy　said；　'but　Davey　Trask　saw　it　and　said　it　was　her。'
　　　　'I　dunno　about　goin　in　there；　man；'　Beaver　says。　'I　mean；　I'd　love　to　see　Tina　Jean　Slophanger's　pussy…'
　　　　'Schlossinger…'
　　　　'…but　that　place　has　been　empty　at　least　since　we　were　in　the　fifth　grade…'
　　　　'Beav…'
　　　　'…and　I　bet　it's　full　of　rats。'
　　　　'Beav…'
　　　　But　Beav　intends　to　have　his　entire　say。　'Rats　get　rabies；'　he　says。　'They　get　rabies　up　the　old　wazoo。'
　　　　'We　don't　have　to　go　in；'　Jonesy　says；　and　all　three　look　at　him　with　renewed　interest。　This　is；　as　the　fellow　said　when　he　saw　the　black…haired　Swede；　a　Norse　of　a　different　color。
　　　　Jonesy　sees　he　has　their　full　attention；　nods；　goes　on。　'Davey　says　all　you　have　to　do　is　go　around　on　the　driveway　side　and　look　in　the　third　or　fourth　window。　It　used　to　be　Phil　and　Tony　Tracker's　office。　There's　still　a　bulletin　board　on　the　wall。　And　Davey　said　the　only　two　things　on　the　bulletin　board　are　a　map　of　New　England　showing　all　the　truck　routes；　and　a　picture　of　Tina　jean　Schlossinger　showing　all　of　her　pussy。'
　　　　They　look　at　him　with　breathless　interest；　and　Pete　asks　the　question　which　has　occurred　to　all　of　them。　'Is　she　bollocky？'
　　　　'No；'　Jonesy　admits。　'Davey　says　you　can't　even　see　her　tits；　but　she's　holding　her　skirt　up　and　she　isn't　wearing　pants　and　you　can　see　it；　just　as　clear　as　day。'
　　　　Pete　is　disappointed　that　this　year's　Tiger　Homeing　Queen　isn't　bollocky　bare…ass；　but　the　thing　about　how　she's　holding　her　skirt　up　inflames　them　all；　feeding　some　primal；　semi…secret　notion　of　how　sex　really　works。　A　girl　could　hold　her　skirt　up；　after　all；　any　girl　could。
　　　　Not　even　Henry　asks　any　more　questions。　The　only　question　es　from　the　Beav；　who　asks　if　Jonesy　is　sure　they　won't　have　to　go　inside　in　order　to　see。　And　they　are　already　moving　in　the　direction　of　the　driveway　running　down　the　far　side　of　the　building　toward　the　vacant　lot；　powerful　as　a　spring　tide　in　their　nearly　mindless　motion。


5

Pete　finished　the　second　beer　and　heaved　the　bottle　deep　into　the　woods。　Feeling　better　now；　he　got　cautiously　to　his　feet　and　dusted　the　snow　from　his　ass。　And　was　his　knee　a　little　bit　looser？　He　thought　maybe　it　was。　Looked　awful；　of　course　…　looked　like　he　had　a　little　model　of　the　Minnesota　goddam　Metrodome　under　there　…　but　felt　a　bit　better。　Still；　he　walked　carefully；　swinging　his　plastic　sack　of　beer　in　short　arcs　beside　him。　Now　that　the　small　but　powerful　voice　insisting　that　he　had　to　have　a　beer；　just　goddam　had　to；　had　been　silenced；　he　thought　of　the　woman　with　new　solicitude；　hoping　she　hadn't　noticed　he　was　gone。　He　would　walk　slowly；　he　would　stop　to　massage　his　knee　every　five　minutes　or　so　（and　maybe　talk　to　it；　encourage　it；　a　crazy　idea；　but　he　was　out　here　on　his　own　and　it　couldn't　hurt）；　and　he　would　get　back　to　the　woman。　Then　he　would　have　another　beer。　He　did　not　look　back　at　the　overturned　Scout；　did　not　see　that　he　had　written　DUDDITS　in　the　snow；　over　and　over　again；　as　he　sat　thinking　of　that　day　back　in　1978。　　　　
　　　　Only　Henry　had　asked　why　the　Schlossinger　girl's　picture　would　be　there　in　the　empty　office　of　an　empty　freight　depot；　and　Pete　thought　now　that　Henry　had　only　asked　because　he　had　to　fulfill　his　role　as　Group　Skeptic。　Certainly　he'd　only　asked　once；　as　for　the　rest　of　them；　they　had　simply　believed；　and　why　not？　At　thirteen；　Pete　had　still　spent　half　his　life　believing　in　Santa　Claus。