pzb.drawingblood-第14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！


　　But　Zach　looked　worse。　His　green　eyes　had　a　feverish　sheen。　Beneath　a　ridiculous　black　bad…cowboy　hat　she　hadn't　seen　before；　his　peaked　pale　face　was　nearly　luminescent　in　the　gaslit　gloom　of　little　Rue　Madison。　He　crammed　a　box　of　papers　into　the　back　seat　of　his　Mustang；　turned　to　grab　another　box；　and　saw　Eddy。　His　face　froze。　For　an　instant　he　looked　terrified。　Then　he　stumbled　toward　her　and　threw　his　arms　around　her。　Her　heart　broke　a　little；　but　Eddy　was　used　to　this；　it　happened　every　time　she　saw　Zach。
　　〃They　got　you？〃
　　He　nodded。　The　words　I　told　you　so　hung　in　the　air；　but　she　would　not　dream　of　speaking　them。
　　〃How　bad？〃
　　〃The　warning　said　They　know　who　you　are；　They　know　where　you　are。　I　don't　think　They　really　know　where　I　am　yet　or　They'd　be　here。　But　They　could　be　finding　out　right　now。　They　could　show　up　anytime。〃
　　Eddy　glanced　nervously　back　toward　Chartres　Street。　Except　for　an　occasional　ripple　of　street　jazz　or　burst　of　drunken　laughter；　all　was　quiet。
　　〃I'm　taking　the　incriminating　stuff　with　me。　The　puters；　my　disks；　my　notebooks。　The　place　will　be　clean　if　you　want　to　move　in。　If　They　show　up　and　want　to　search；　let　'em　search。　They　won't　find　a　damn　thing。〃　He　looked　proud；　defiant；　exhausted。　Eddy　reached　up　to　touch　her　fingertips　to　his　perspiring　face。　Her　heart　was　not　just　breaking　but　imploding。　He　was　all　but　gone。
　　〃e　sleep　at　my　place　tonight；〃　she　said。　〃No　one　can　find　you　there。　Leave　in　the　morning；　with　some　rest。〃
　　He　didn't　even　hesitate。　〃I　want　to　get　as　good　a　start　as　possible。　If　I　go　now　I'll　have　the　cover　of　the　night。〃
　　The　cover　of　the　night。　To　Zach　this　was　some　big　adventure。　He　was　scared；　yes…but　more　than　that；　he　was　excited。　She　could　hear　it　in　the　tremor　of　his　voice；　see　it　in　the　blaze　of　his　eyes。　He　was　like　a　racehorse　getting　ready　to　run；　elegant　nostrils　flaring；　velvet　flanks　bunching　and　tensing。
　　She　had　thought　perhaps　one　last　night　together　。　。　。　But　she　knew　what　it　would　have　been　like。　They　would　have　stayed　up　drinking　and　smoking　pot　and　talking　until　dawn；　maybe　whipped　up　a　batch　of　cayenne　popcorn　and　watched　a　weird　movie　or　two。　And　that　would　have　been　it。　Zach　didn't　mind　if　she　leaned　against　his　shoulder；　didn't　mind　a　casual　touch　of　the　hand　or　ruffling　of　his　unruly　hair。　But　anything　more　obvious　on　her　part…　like　the　couple　of　times　she'd　leaned　over　and　kissed　him　full　on　the　lips…would　be　met　with　〃I　can't；　Ed；　I　just　can't。〃　And　if　she　asked　why；　she　would　get　the　infuriating　answer；　〃Because　I　like　you。〃
　　It　wasn't　as　if　Zach　were　celibate　or　gay；　either。　She　had　seen　him　pick　up　scores　of　people　at　the　clubs　and　bars　they　both　frequented；　and　the　ratio　was　only　slightly　in　favor　of　cute　young　males。　He　always　seemed　to　go　for　the　good…looking　and　the　empty…headed；　preferably　drunk；　ideally　with　some　absent　girlfriend　or　boyfriend　to　absorb　the　aftershock。　He　had　only　one　inflexible　rule：　they　had　to　have　a　place　to　fuck。　He　would　not　take　them　back　to　his　sanctuary　of　an　apartment；　would　not　share　his　nest　with　his　bimbos。　Maybe　he　was　embarrassed　for　his　puter　to　see　them。
　　The　next　day…or　night…he　would　brush　them　off；　not　in　an　especially　cruel　way；　but　in　a　manner　that　left　no　doubt　that　they　had　been　nothing　but　caprices。　It　was；　Eddy　thought；　as　if　Zach　considered　sex　a　biological　need　on　the　order　of　going　to　the　bathroom：　you　didn't　form　an　emotional　bond　with　every　toilet　you　took　a　crap　in；　and　when　you　were　done；　you　flushed　and　walked　away…　feeling　better；　to　be　sure；　but　not　really　thinking　about　what　you'd　just　done。
　　It　raised　Eddy's　blood　pressure；　and　frustrated　her；　and　made　her　crazy。　Any　other　friend　or　potential　lover　with　such　an　attitude　would　have　been　long　since　trashed。　But　Zachary　was　so　sweet；　so　smart；　so　cool　otherwise　that　this　seemed　an　aberration；　a　flaw　or　handicap　he　could　not　be　blamed　for；　like　a　strawberry　birthmark　or　a　missing　finger。　She　supposed　part　of　it　was　the　hell　he　had　watched　his　parents　put　each　other　through；　and　the　hell　he　had　endured　at　their　hands。　And　she　kept　hoping　part　of　it　could　be　blamed　on　his　age；　almost　any　character　defect　was　forgivable　at　nineteen。　（Eddy　was　twenty…two；　and　far　more　worldwise。）
　　〃Won't　they　know　your　car？〃　she　asked。
　　〃I've　already　switched　the　plates。〃
　　She　glanced　at　the　back　end　of　the　Mustang。　Zach's　license　plate　read　FET…213；　which　looked　awfully　familiar。　〃Isn't　that　the　same　one　you　always　had？〃
　　〃I　didn't　switch　plates　on　the　car；〃　he　explained　patiently。　〃I　switched　them　in　the　DMV　puter。　My　plate　is　pletely　wiped　out　of　existence；　and　I　gave　myself　the　plate　of　some　Cajun's　1965　Ford　pickup　down　in　Houma。〃
　　〃Oh。〃
　　〃It　can't　be　traced　to　me。〃
　　〃Uh…huh。〃
　　〃Trust　me；　Ed！　I'm　making　a　clean　getaway。　I　just　need　to　get　going。〃
　　They　stood　awkwardly　in　the　deepening　gloom　staring　at　each　other。　〃You　already　have　a　key；〃　Zach　said。　〃You　want　the　extra？〃
　　〃No。　You'll　need　it　if　you　e　back　and　I'm　not　home。〃
　　〃I'm　not　ing　back；　Eddy；〃　he　said　gently。　〃Not　for　a　long　time；　anyway。　I'll　kill　myself　before　I'll　let　them　lock　me　up。〃
　　〃I　know。〃　She　would　not　lose　her　posure；　would　not　slobber　and　bawl；　would　not　beg　him　to　take　her　along。　If　he　wanted　her　along；　he　would　have　said　so。
　　〃So…well…I　can't　call　here；　but　I'll　try　to　get　in　touch　somehow。〃
　　〃You　do　that。〃　She　crossed　her　arms　over　her　chest；　shook　a　few　tiny　braids　out　of　her　face；　fixed　him　with　a　steely　eye。
　　〃Eddy　。　。　。〃
　　〃Don't　you　fucking　Eddy　me！　You　could　have　been　more　careful！　You　didn't　have　to　show　off　and　take　so　many　dumb　chances…it　wasn't　like　you　needed　the　money。　You　could　have　。　。　。　stayed！〃　Now　she　was　crying。　She　bared　her　teeth　at　him；　narrowed　her　eyes　nearly　to　slits　to　hide　the　tears。
　　〃I　know；〃　he　said。　〃I　know。〃　He　took　two　steps　forward　and　enfolded　her　in　his　arms　again。　She　laid　her　wet　cheek　against　the　soft　cotton　of　his　T…shirt；　breathed　his　smoky；　slightly　sweaty　boy…smell；　held　his　skinny　body　tight　against　her。　This　was　how　it　should　have　been　all　along。
　　Too　bad　he　hadn't　agreed。
　　〃Be　safe；〃　she　told　him　at　last。
　　〃I'll　be　careful。〃
　　〃Where　will　you　go？〃
　　He　shrugged。　〃North。〃
　　They　stared　at　each　other　again；　at　a　loss　for　words　but　not　yet　ready　to　say　good…bye。　Then　Zach　leaned　down　and…ever　so　carefully；　as　if　touching　together　two　live　wires…placed　his　lips　against　Eddy's。　She　felt　the　electric　thrill　of　contact；　the　very　tip　of　his　tongue　touching　hers；　and　an　exquisite　heat　exploded　from　the　center　of　her　womb。　For　an　instant　she　thought　her　innards　would　simply　melt　out　of　her　pussy　and　run　down　her　thighs；　so　intense　was　the　rush。　But　then　Zach　pulled　back　and　stepped　away。
　　〃Gotta　go。〃
　　Eddy　nodded；　did　not　trust　herself　to　speak。　She　watched　him　walk　around　the　front　of　the　car；　slide　into　the　driver's　seat；　turn　the　key　in　the　ignition。　The　powerful　engine　leapt　to　life；　ready　to　carry　Zachary　Bosch　far　away　from　New　Orleans；　far　away　from　Eddy　Sung。　The　horn　beeped　twice　and　then　he　was　pulling　away　from　the　curb；　red　taillights　pausing　at　the　corner；　then　merging　into　the　nighttime　traffic　of　Decatur　Street。
　　Gone。
　　Eddy　stood　for　several　minutes　in　the　shifting　shadows　cast　by　the　wrought…iron　balconies　overhead。　She　glanced　at　the　door　that　led　up　to　Zach's　place；　touched　the　key　ring　in　her　pocket；　then　shook　her　head。　The　Madison　Street　apartment　was　much　nicer　than　her　own　roach…infested　closet；　and　she　knew　the　rent　was　paid　for　the　rest　of　the　year。　Zach　hated　thinking　about　mundane　matters　like　rent；　so　he　paid　it　off　at　the　beginning　of　each　year　when　he　renewed　his　lease。　She　would　start　moving　her　things　in　tomorrow。　But　she　could　not　go　up　there　now；　while　his　presence　still　lingered　painfully　strong；　like　a　voice　just　beyond　the　range　of　hearing；　like　an　atom…thin　membrane　between　reality　and　memory。
　　She　turned　and　walked　back　up　Madison；　turned　left　on　Chartres；　and　headed　for　Jackson　Square。　The　spires　of　St。　Louis　Cathedral　loomed　ahead；　moon…pale　and　mysterious；　stabbing　like　bony　fingers　into　the　purple　night　sky。　A　brick　mons　lay　between　the　cathedral　and　the　square；　and　kids　in　thrift…shop　black　and　painted　leather　and　torn　denim　were　already　beginning　to　congregate　there；　smoking　cigarettes；　passing　bottles　of　cheap　wine。
　　Eddy　stopped　at　the　bank　machine　on　the　corner　of　Chartres　and　St。　Ann。　She　still　had　her　day's　pay　in　her　pocket；　a　fat　wad　that　rubbed　against　her　leg　and　made　her　nervous。　She　would　deposit　it；　saving　out　thirty　dollars…enough　to　get　good　and　drunk。　Then　she　might　go　and　join　the　kids　on　the　square；　or　she　might　find　a　dark　little　bar　and　drown　her　sorrows　alone。
　　She　filled　out　a　deposit　slip；　stuffed　her　money　in　the　envelope；　popped　her　card　into　the　slot　and　punched　in　her　personal　number；　then　the　necessary　information。　She　heard　little　wheels　grinding　deep　inside　the　machine。　The　screen　asked　her　if　she　needed　travelers'　checks　for　that　summer　vacation。　Finally　her　eighty…dollar　deposit　was　processed　and　the　machine　spit　back　her　card；　then　a　printed　receipt。
　　Eddy　turned　away；　glanced　idly　at　the　receipt；　and　stopped　dead　in　her　tracks。　A　couple　of　fratboy　tourists　crossing　the　mons　nearly　walked　into　her；　swore　at　her；　and　stumbled　on。　She　ignored　them；　kept　staring　dumbly　at　the　slip　of　paper。　She　tried　squinting　and　blinking；　but　the　numbers　stayed　the　same。
　　She'd　paid　her　rent　a　couple　of　days　earlier；　and　that　put　the　balance　of　her　checking　account　at　a　precarious　380。82。　It　now　stood　at　10；380。82。
　　She'd　never　let　Zach　give　her　money。　It　was　too　dangerous　for　him；　and　she　liked　taking　care　of　herself。
　　But　it　appeared　he　had　left　her　a　farewell　present。
　　
　　He　got　on　Highway　90…other　than　superinterstates　59　and　10；　which　were　as　dull　as　direct…dialing　a　long　distance　call　and　paying　for　it　with　your　own　credit　card；　the　two…lane　blacktop　was　pretty　much　the　only　way　out　of　New　Orleans…and　left　the　city　under　cover　of　the　night。　The　Rolling　Stones　song　of　that　name　pumped　monotonously　in　his　head　（curled　up　baby；　curled　up　tight）；　an　unwele　echo　from　the　bruised　ache　and　white…hot　hatred　of　his　eleventh　year。　It　reminded　him　that　he　had　hardly　any　tapes　in　the　car。　He'd　left　his　music；　books；　and　movies　for　Eddy；　since　he　could　always　get　more。　But　he　should　have　brought　a　few　for　the　road。　He'd　stop　and　get　some　later；　when　his　thoughts　quieted　down　enough　to　make　listening　worthwhile。
　　He　was　already　sick　of　wearing　his　new　hat；　so　he　chucked　it　into　the　back　and　raked　a　hand　through　his　hair。　It　was　tangled；　dirty；　and　felt　like　it　was　standing　up　at　fifteen　different　angles。　So　much　the　better　for　that　popular　Edward　Scissorhands　look。
　　A　few　miles　out　of　New　Orleans；　90　wound　past　an　enclave　of　Vietnamese　restaurants　and　stores；　an　exotic　little　Asian　village　set　down　in　rural　Louisiana；　nurtured　by　the　bounty　of　the　rivers；　lakes；　and　bayous。　Though　Eddy　was　Korean；　the　sight　made　him　think　of　her；　gave　him　an　empty　feeling　somehow。　He'd　eaten　dinner　at　her　parents'　house　in　Kenner　once；　had　been　served　oyster　pancakes　and　a　wonderful　concoction　of　rice；　fresh　greens；　seaweed；　raw　fish；