sk.thetalisman-第76部分

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wung　open；　triggered　by　some　electronic　signal。　'TV　camera；'　the　policeman　explained。　'They're　a…waitin　for　you　two　fresh　fish。'　
　　Jack　leaned　forward　and　put　his　face　to　the　window。　Boys　in　denim　jackets　worked　in　the　long　fields　to　either　side；　hoeing　and　raking；　pushing　wheelbarrows。
　　'You　two　shitheads　just　earned　me　twenty　bucks；'　Williams　said。　'Plus　another　twenty　for　Judge　Fairchild。　Ain't　that　great？'
　　
　　　CHAPTER　21
　　　The　Sunlight　Home
　　　
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　　The　Home　looked　like　something　made　from　a　child's　blocks；　Jack　thought…it　had　grown　randomly　as　more　space　was　needed。　Then　he　saw　that　the　numerous　windows　were　barred；　and　the　sprawling　building　immediately　seemed　penal；　rather　than　childish。
　　Most　of　the　boys　in　the　fields　had　put　down　their　tools　to　watch　the　progress　of　the　police　car。
　　Franky　Williams　pulled　up　into　the　wide；　rounded　end　of　the　drive。　As　soon　as　he　had　cut　off　his　engine；　a　tall　figure　stepped　through　the　front　door　and　stood　regarding　them　from　the　top　of　the　steps；　his　hands　knitted　together　before　him。　Beneath　a　full　head　of　longish　wavy　white　hair；　the　man's　face　seemed　unrealistically　youthful…as　if　these　chipped；　vitally　masculine　features　had　been　created　or　at　least　assisted　by　plastic　surgery。　It　was　the　face　of　a　man　who　could　sell　anything；　anywhere；　to　anybody。　His　clothes　were　as　white　as　his　hair：　white　suit；　white　shoes；　white　shirt；　and　a　trailing　white　silk　scarf　around　his　neck。　As　Jack　and　Wolf　got　out　of　the　back　seat；　the　man　in　white　pulled　a　pair　of　dark　green　sunglasses　from　his　suitpocket；　put　them　on；　and　appeared　to　examine　the　two　boys　for　a　moment　before　smiling…long　creases　split　his　cheeks。　Then　he　removed　the　sunglasses　and　put　them　back　in　his　pocket。
　　'Well；'　he　said。　'Well；　well；　well。　Where　would　we　all　be　without　you；　Officer　Williams？'
　　'Afternoon；　Reverend　Gardener；'　the　policeman　said。
　　'Is　it　the　usual　sort　of　thing；　or　were　these　two　bold　fellows　actually　engaged　in　criminal　activity？'
　　'Vagrants；'　said　the　cop。　Hands　on　hips；　he　squinted　up　at　Gardener　as　if　all　that　whiteness　hurt　his　eyes。　'Refused　to　give　Fairchild　their　right　names。　This　one；　the　big　one；'　he　said；　pointing　a　thumb　at　Wolf；　'he　wouldn't　talk　at　all。　I　had　to　nail　him　in　the　head　just　to　get　him　in　the　car。'　
　　Gardener　shook　his　head　tragically。　'Why　don't　you　bring　them　up　here　so　they　can　introduce　themselves；　and　then　we'll　take　care　of　the　various　formalities。　Is　there　any　reason　why　the　two　of　them　should　look　so；　ah；　shall　we　say；　'befuddled'？'
　　'Just　that　I　cracked　that　big　one　behind　the　ears。'
　　'Ummmmm。'　Gardener　stepped　backward；　steepling　his　fingers　before　his　chest。
　　As　Williams　prodded　the　boys　up　the　steps　to　the　long　porch；　Gardener　cocked　his　head　and　regarded　his　new　arrivals。　Jack　and　Wolf　reached　the　top　of　the　steps　and　moved　tentatively　onto　the　surface　of　the　porch。　Franky　Williams　wiped　his　forehead　and　huffed　himself　up　beside　them。　Gardener　was　smiling　mistily；　but　his　eyes　switched　back　and　forth　between　the　boys。　The　second　after　something　hard；　cold；　and　familiar　jumped　out　of　his　eyes　at　Jack；　the　Reverend　again　twitched　the　sunglasses　out　of　his　pocket　and　put　them　on。　The　smile　remained　misty　and　delicate；　but　even　wrapped　as　he　was　in　a　sense　of　false　security；　Jack　felt　frozen　by　that　glance…because　he　had　seen　it　before。
　　Reverend　Gardener　pulled　the　sunglasses　below　the　bridge　of　his　nose　and　peered　playfully　over　the　tops　of　the　frames。　'Names？　Names？　Might　we　have　some　names　from　you　two　gentlemen？'
　　'I'm　Jack；'　the　boy　said；　and　then　stopped…he　did　not　want　to　say　one　more　word　until　he　had　to。　Reality　seemed　to　fold　and　buckle　about　Jack　for　a　moment：　he　felt　that　he　had　been　jerked　back　into　the　Territories；　but　that　now　the　Territories　were　evil　and　threatening；　and　that　foul　smoke；　jumping　flames；　the　screams　of　tortured　bodies　filled　the　air。
　　A　powerful　hand　closed　over　his　elbow　and　held　him　upright。　Instead　of　the　foulness　and　smoke；　Jack　smelled　some　heavy　sweet　cologne；　applied　too　liberally。　A　pair　of　melancholy　gray　eyes　were　looking　directly　into　his。
　　'And　have　you　been　a　bad　boy；　Jack？　Have　you　been　a　very　bad　boy？'
　　'No；　we　were　just　hitching；　and…'
　　'I　think　you're　a　trifle　stoned；'　said　the　Reverend　Gardener。　'We'll　have　to　see　that　you　get　some　special　attention；　won't　we？'　The　hand　released　his　elbow；　Gardener　stepped　neatly　away；　and　pushed　the　sunglasses　up　over　his　eyes　again。　'You　do　possess　a　last　name；　I　imagine。'
　　'Parker；'　Jack　said。
　　'Yesss。'　Gardener　whipped　the　glasses　off　his　head；　executed　a　dancing　little　half…turn；　and　was　scrutinizing　Wolf。　He　had　given　no　indication　whether　he　believed　Jack　or　not。
　　'My；'　he　said。　'You're　a　healthy　specimen；　aren't　you？　Positively　strapping。　We'll　certainly　be　able　to　find　a　use　for　a　big　strong　boy　like　you　around　here；　praise　the　Lord。　And　might　I　ask　you　to　emulate　Mr。　Jack　Parker　here；　and　give　me　your　name？'　
　　Jack　looked　uneasily　at　Wolf。　His　head　was　bowed；　and　he　was　breathing　heavily。　A　glistening　line　of　slobber　went　from　the　corner　of　his　mouth　to　his　chin。　A　black　smudge；　half…dirt；　half…grease；　covered　the　front　of　the　stolen　Athletic　Department　sweatshirt。　Wolf　shook　his　head；　but　the　gesture　seemed　to　have　no　content…he　might　have　been　shaking　away　a　fly。
　　'Name；　son？　Name？　Name？　Are　you　called　Bill？　Paul？　Art？　Sammy？　No…something　exceedingly　foursquare；　I'm　sure。　George；　perhaps？'
　　'Wolf；'　said　Wolf。
　　'Ah；　that　is　nice。'　Gardener　beamed　at　both　of　them。　'Mr。　Parker　and　Mr。　Wolf。　Perhaps　you'll　escort　them　inside；　Officer　Williams？　And　aren't　we　happy　that　Mr。　Bast　is　in　residence　already？　For　the　presence　of　Mr。　Hector　Bast…one　of　our　stewards；　by　the　way…means　that　we　shall　probably　be　able　to　outfit　Mr。　Wolf。'　He　peered　at　the　two　boys　over　the　frames　of　his　sunglasses。　'One　of　our　beliefs　here　at　the　Scripture　Home　is　that　the　soldiers　of　the　Lord　march　best　when　they　march　in　uniform。　And　Heck　Bast　is　nearly　as　large　as　your　friend　Wolf；　young　Jack　Parker。　So　from　the　points　of　view　of　both　clothing　and　discipline　you　shall　be　very　well　served　indeed。　A　fort；　yes？'
　　'Jack；'　Wolf　said　in　a　low　voice。
　　'Yes。'
　　'My　head　hurts；　Jack。　Hurts　bad。'
　　'Your　little　head　pains　you；　Mr。　Wolf？'　Reverend　Sunlight　Gardener　half…danced　toward　Wolf　and　gently　patted　his　arm。　Wolf　snatched　his　arm　away；　his　face　working　into　an　exaggerated　reflex　of　disgust。　The　cologne；　Jack　knew…that　heavy　cloying　odor　would　have　been　like　ammonia　in　Wolf's　sensitive　nostrils。
　　'Never　mind；　son；'　said　Gardener；　seemingly　unaffected　by　Wolf's　withdrawal　from　him。　'Mr。　Bast　or　Mr。　Singer；　our　other　steward；　will　see　to　that　inside。　Frank；　I　thought　I　told　you　to　get　them　into　the　Home。'　
　　Officer　Williams　reacted　as　if　he　had　been　jabbed　in　the　back　with　a　pin。　His　face　grew　more　feverish；　and　he　jerked　his　peculiar　body　across　the　porch　to　the　front　door。
　　Sunlight　Gardener　twinkled　at　Jack　again；　and　the　boy　saw　that　all　his　dandified　animation　was　only　a　kind　of　sterile　self…amusement：　the　man　in　white　was　cold　and　crazy　within。　A　heavy　gold　chain　rattled　out　of　Gardener's　sleeve　and　came　to　rest　against　the　base　of　his　thumb。　Jack　heard　the　whistle　of　a　whip　cutting　through　the　air；　and　this　time　he　recognized　Gardener's　dark　gray　eyes。
　　Gardener　was　Osmond's　Twinner。
　　'Inside；　young　fellows；'　Gardener　said；　half…bowing　and　indicating　the　open　door。
　　　
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　　'By　the　way；　Mr。　Parker；'　Gardener　said；　once　they　had　gone　in；　'is　it　possible　that　we've　met　before？　There　must　be　some　reason　you　look　so　familiar　to　me；　mustn't　there？'
　　'I　don't　know；'　Jack　said；　looking　carefully　around　the　odd　interior　of　the　Scripture　Home。
　　Long　couches　covered　with　a　dark　blue　fabric　sat　against　the　wall　on　the　forest…green　carpet；　two　massive　leather…topped　desks　had　been　placed　against　the　opposite　wall。　At　one　of　the　desks　a　pimply　teenager　glanced　at　them　dully；　then　returned　to　the　video　screen　before　him；　where　a　TV　preacher　was　inveighing　against　rock　and　roll。　The　teenage　boy　seated　at　the　adjoining　desk　straightened　up　and　fixed　Jack　with　an　aggressive　stare。　He　was　slim　and　black…haired　and　his　narrow　face　looked　clever　and　bad…tempered。　To　the　pocket　of　his　white　turtleneck　sweater　was　pinned　a　rectangular　name…plate　of　the　sort　worn　by　soldiers：　SINGER。
　　'But　I　do　think　we　have　met　each　other　somewhere；　don't　you；　my　lad？　I　assure　you；　we　must　have…I　don't　forget；　I　am　literally　incapable　of　forgetting；　the　face　of　a　boy　I　have　encountered。　Have　you　ever　been　in　trouble　before　this；　Jack？'　
　　Jack　said；　'I　never　saw　you　before。'　
　　Across　the　room；　a　massive　boy　had　lifted　himself　off　one　of　the　blue　couches　and　was　now　standing　at　attention。　He　too　wore　a　white　turtleneck　sweater　and　a　military　nameplate。　His　hands　wandered　nervously　from　his　sides　to　his　belt；　into　the　pockets　of　his　blue　jeans；　back　to　his　sides。　He　was　at　least　six…three　and　seemed　to　weigh　nearly　three　hundred　pounds。　Acne　burned　across　his　cheeks　and　forehead。　This；　clearly；　was　Bast。
　　'Well；　perhaps　it　will　e　to　me　later；'　Sunlight　Gardener　said。　'Heck；