cb.imajica1-第30部分

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teer；　murmuring　as　he　did　so　that　he　was　sure　of　nothing　but　he　would　try　to　remember。　Gentle　didn't　press　too　hard；　but　let　the　man　make　the　journey　again　in　memory；　running　his　finger　back　and　forth　over　the　map　as　he　did　so。
　They'd　driven　through　Lambeth；　he　said；　then　Kenning…ton　and　Stockwell。　He　didn't　remember　grazing　Clapham　mon；　so　he　assumed　they'd　driven　to　the　east　of　it；　towards　Streatham　Hill。　He　remembered　a　church　and　sought　out　a　cross　on　the　map　that　would　mark　the　place。
　There　were　several；　but　only　one　close　to　the　other　landmark　he　remembered；　the　railway　line。　At　this　point；　he　said　he　could　offer　nothing　more　by　way　of　directions；　only　a　description　of　the　place　itself：　the　corrugated　iron　perimeter；　the　trailers；　the　fires。　〃You'll　find　it；〃　he　said。　〃I'd　better；〃　Gentle　replied。
　He'd　so　far　told　Estabrook　nothing　about　the　circumstances　that　had　brought　him　back　here；　though　the　man　had　several　times　asked　if　Judith　was　alive　and　well。　Now　he　asked　again。
　〃Please　tell　me；〃　he　said。　〃I've　been　straight　with　you；　I　swear　I　have。　Won't　you　please　tell　me　how　she　is？〃　〃She's　alive　and　kicking；〃　Gentle　said。　〃Has　she　mentioned　me　at　all？　She　must　have　done。　What　did　she　say？　Did　you　tell　her　I　still　love　her？〃
　〃I'm　not　your　pimp；〃　Gentle　said。　〃Tell　her　yourself。　If　you　can　get　her　to　talk　to　you。〃
　〃What　am　I　going　to　do？〃　Estabrook　said。　He　took　hold　of　Gentle's　arm。　〃You're　an　expert　with　women；　aren't　you？　Everybody　says　so。　What　can　I　do　to　make　amends？〃　〃She'd　probably　be　satisfied　if　you　sent　her　your　balls；〃　Gentle　said。　〃Anything　less　wouldn't　be　appropriate。〃　〃You　think　it's　funny。〃
　〃Trying　to　have　your　wife　killed？　No；　I　don't　think　that's　very　amusing。　Changing　your　mind　and　wanting　everything　lovey…dovey　again：　that's　hysterical。〃
　〃You　wait　till　you　love　somebody　the　way　I　love　Judith。　If　you're　capable　of　that；　which　I　doubt。　You　wait　until　you　want　somebody　so　badly　your　sanity　bangs　on　it。　You'll　learn。〃
　Gentle　didn't　rise　to　the　remark。　It　was　too　close　to　his　present　state　to　be　fully　confessed；　even　to　himself。　But　once　out　of　the　house；　map　in　hand；　he　couldn't　suppress　a　smile　of　pleasure　that　he　had　a　way　forward。　It　was　already　getting　gloomy；　as　the　midwinter　afternoon　closed　its　fist　on　the　city。　But　darkness　loved　lovers；　even　if　the　world　no　longer　did。
　At　midday；　with　his　unease　of　the　previous　night　allayed　not　one　jot；　Pie　'oh'　pah　had　suggested　to　Theresa　that　they　should　leave　the　encampment。　The　suggestion　wasn't　met　with　enthusiasm。　The　baby　was　sick　'with　sniffles　and　had　not　stopped　wailing　since　she'd　woken；　the　other　child　was　feverish　too。　This　was　no　time　to　be　going　away；　Theresa　said；　even　if　they　had　somewhere　to　go；　which　they　didn't。　We'll　take　the　trailer　with　us；　Pie　replied；　we'll　just　drive　out　of　the　city。　To　the　coast；　maybe；　where　the　children　would　benefit　from　the　cleaner　air。　Theresa　liked　that　idea。　Tomorrow；　she　said；　or　the　day　after；　but　not　now。
　Pie　pressed　the　case；　however；　until　she　asked　him　what　he　was　so　nervous　about。　He　had　no　answer　to　give；　at　least　none　that　she'd　care　to　hear。　She　understood　nothing　of　his　nature；　nor　questioned　him　about　his　past。　He　was　simply　a　provider；　someone　who　put　food　in　the　mouths　of　her　children　and　his　arms　around　her　at　night。　But　her　question　still　hung　in　the　air；　so　he　answered　it　as　best　he　could。
　〃I'm　afraid　for　us；〃　he　said。
　〃It's　that　old　man；　isn't　it？〃　Theresa　replied。　〃The　one　who　came　to　see　you？　Who　was　he？〃
　〃He　wanted　a　job　done。〃
　〃And　you　did　it？〃
　〃No。〃
　〃So　you　think　he's　going　to　e　back？〃　she　said。　〃We'll　set　the　dogs　on　him。〃
　It　was　healthy　to　hear　such　plain　solutions；　even　if…as　now…they　didn't　answer　the　problem　at　hand。　His　mystif　soul　was　sometimes　too　readily　drawn　to　the　ambiguities　that　mirrored　his　true　self。　But　she　chastened　him；　reminded　him　that　he'd　taken　a　face　and　a　function　and；　in　this　human　sphere；　a　sex；　that　as　far　as　she　was　concerned　he　belonged　in　the　fixed　world　of　children；　dogs；　and　orange　peel。　There　was　no　room　for　poetry　in　such　straitened　circumstances；　no　time　between　hard　dawn　and　uneasy　dusk　for　the　luxury　of　doubt　or　speculation。
　Now　another　of　those　dusks　had　fallen；　and　Theresa　was　putting　her　cherished　ones　to　bed　in　the　trailer。　They　slept　well。　He　had　a　spell　that　he'd　kept　polished　from　the　days　of　his　power；　a　way　of　speaking　prayers　into　a　pillow　so　they'd　sweeten　the　sleeper's　dreams。　His　Maestro　had　asked　for　its　fort　often；　and　Pie　used　it　still；　two　hundred　years　later。　Even　now　Theresa　was　laying　her　children's　heads　upon　down　suffused　with　cradle　songs；　secreted…there　to　guide　them　from　the　dark　world　into　the　bright。
　The　mongrel　he'd　met　at　the　perimeter　in　the　predawn　gloom　was　barking　furiously；　and　he　went　out　to　calm　it。　Seeing　him　approach　it　pulled　on　its　chain；　scrabbling　at　the　dirt　to　be　closer　to　him。　Its　owner　was　a　man　Pie　had　little　contact　with；　a　short…tempered　Scot　who　brutalized　the　dog　when　he　could　catch　it。　Pie　went　down　on　his　haunches　to　hush　the　creature；　for　fear　its　din　brought　the　owner　out　from　his　supping。　The　dog　obeyed　but　continued　to　paw　at　Pie　fretfully；　clearly　wanting　to　be　loosed　from　its　leash。
　〃What's　wrong；　buster？〃　he　said　to　it；　scratching　behind　its　war…torn　ears。　〃Have　you　got　a　lady　out　there？〃
　He　looked　up　towards　the　perimeter　as　he　spoke　and　caught　the　fleeting　glimpse　of　a　figure　stepping　into　shadow　behind　one　of　the　trailers。　The　dog　had　seen　the　interloper　too。　It　set　up　a　new　round　of　barking。　Pie　stood　up　again。　〃Who's　there？〃　he　demanded。
　A　sound　at　the　other　end　of　the　encampment　claimed　his　attention　momentarily：　water　splashing　on　the　ground。　No；　not　water。　The　stench　that　reached　his　nostrils　was　that　of　petrol。　He　looked　back　towards　his　own　trailer。　Theresa's　shadow　was　on　the　blind；　her　head　bowed　as　she　turned　off　the　nightlight　beside　the　children's　bed。　The　stench　was　ing　from　that　direction　too。　He　reached　down　and　released　the　dog。
　〃Go；　boy！　Go！　Go！〃
　It　ran　barking　at　a　figure　slipping　out　through　a　gap　in　the　fence。　As　it　went　Pie　started　towards　his　trailer；　yelling　Theresa's　name。
　Behind　him；　somebody　shouted　for　him　to　shut　up　out　there；　but　the　curses　were　unfinished；　erased　by　the　boom　and　bloom　of　fire；　twin　eruptions　that　lit　the　encampment　from　end　to　end。　He　heard　Theresa　scream；　saw　Same　surge　up　and　around　his　trailer。　The　spilled　fuel　was　only　a　fuse。　Before　he'd　covered　ten　yards　the　mother　lode　exploded　directly　under　the　vehicle；　the　force　sufficient　to　lift　it　off　the　ground　and　pitch　it　on　its　side。
　Pie　was　blown　over　by　a　solid　wave　of　heat。　By　the　time　he'd　scrabbled　to　his　feet　the　trailer　was　a　solid　sheet　of　flame。　As　he　pitched　himself　through　the　baking　air　towards　the　pyre　he　heard　another　sobbing　cry　and　realized　it　was　his　own；　a　sound　he'd　forgotten　his　throat　could　make　but　which　was　always　the　same；　grief　on　grief。
　Gentle　had　just　sighted　the　church　which　had　been　Esta…brook's　last　landmark　when　a　sudden　day　broke　on　the　street　ahead；　as　though　the　sun　had　e　to　burn　the　night　away。　The　car　in　front　of　his　veered　sharply；　and　he　was　only　able　to　prevent　a　collision　by　mounting　the　pavement；　bringing　his　own　car　to　a　juddering　halt　inches　short　of　the　church　wall。
　He　got　out　and　headed　towards　the　fire　on　foot；　turning　a　corner　to　head　directly　into　the　smoke；　which　veered　and　veered　again　as　he　ran；　allowing　him　only　glimpses　of　his　destination。　He　saw　a　corrugated　iron　fence；　and　beyond　it　a　host　of　trailers；　most　of　which　were　already　ablaze。　Even　if　he'd　not　had　Estabrook's　description　to　confirm　that　this　was　indeed　Pie　'oh'　pah's　home；　the　fact　of　its　destruction　would　have　marked　it　out。　Death　had　preceded　him　here；　like　his　shadow；　thrown　forward　by　a　blaze　at　his　back　that　was　even　brighter　than　the　one　that　lay　ahead。　His　knowledge　of　this　other　cataclysm；　the　one　behind；　had　been　a　part　of　the　business　between　himself　and　the　assassin　from　the　beginning。　It　had　flickered　in　their　first　exchanges　on　Fifth　Avenue；　it　had　lit　the　fury　that　had　sent　him　to　debate　with　the　canvas；　and　it　had　burned　brightest　in　his　dreams；　in　that　room　he'd　invented　（or　remembered）　where　he'd　begged　Pie　for　forgetfulness。　What　had　they　experienced　together　that　had　been　so　terrible　he'd　wanted　to　forget　his　whole　life　rather　than　live　with　the　fact？　Whatever　it　was；　it　was　somehow　echoed　in　this　new　calamity；　and　he　wished　to　God　he　could　have　his　forgetfulness　undone　and　know　what　crime　he'd　mitted　that　brought　upon　innocents　such　punishment　as　this。
　The　encampment　was　an　inferno；　wind　fanning　flames　that　in　turn　inspired　new　wind；　with　flesh　the　toy　of　both。　He　had　only　piss　and　spittle　against　this　conflagration…　useless！…but　he　ran　on　towards　it　anyway；　his　eyes　streaming　as　the　smoke　bit　at　them；　not　knowing　what　hope　of　survival　he　had；　only　certain　that　Pie　was　somewhere　in　this　firestorm　and　to　lose　him　now　would　be　tantamount　to　losing　himself。
　There　were　some　escapees；　a　pitiful　few。　He　ran　past　them　towards　the　gap　in　the　fence　through　which　they'd　escaped。　His　route　was　by　turns　clear　and　confounded；　as　the　wind　brought　choking　smoke　in　his　direction；　then　carried　it　a