pzb.drawingblood-第37章

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n　flashed　a　badge　at　them；　they'd　not　only　tell　him　anything　he　wanted　to　hear；　they'd　lick　his　asshole　clean　while　they　did　it。　Goddamn　John…Wayne…loving　John…Birch…worshiping　good　country　people。
　　〃What　are　you　scowling　about？〃
　　〃Oh。〃　He　looked　up　into　Trevor's　face　and　forgot　it　all。　〃Nothing。〃
　　Their　eyes　locked　on　each　other；　and　for　a　long　moment　they　might　as　well　have　been　back　in　bed；　tangled　in　the　sweaty　blanket；　stewing　in　one　another's　juices。　Then　Trevor　glanced　over　Zach's　shoulder。　〃Hey；　there's　Kinsey。　I　bet　he'd　let　us　take　a　shower　at　his　house。〃
　　〃Feed　us　too？〃
　　〃Maybe。〃
　　〃Go　for　it。〃
　　Trevor　grabbed　his　coffeepot　and　Zach　his　fan；　and　they　slipped　through　the　aisles　and　homed　in　on　Kinsey's　tall　form　like　two　hungry　cats　who　know　which　porch　to　go　to。
　　
　　Kinsey　sat　at　his　kitchen　table　and　listened　to　the　shower　blasting　away。　It　had　done　so　for　thirty　minutes　now；　and　though　the　bathroom　was　way　at　the　other　end　of　the　hall；　the　kitchen　windows　had　begun　to　fog　up。　If　they　went　on　much　longer；　his　zucchini…mushroom　lasagna　would　be　ready　to　e　out　of　the　oven　and　he　would　have　to　eat　it　by　himself。　The　house　was　getting　unbearably　hot　and　muggy。
　　He　went　into　the　hall　and　switched　on　the　air…conditioning。　From　behind　the　bathroom　door　he　could　hear　water　hitting　skin；　the　rattle　of　the　shower　curtain；　a　sound　that　could　have　been　a　laugh　or　a　sob。　Were　they　making　love　in　the　steam　and　spray？　Were　they　crying　in　there？
　　He　did　not　even　try　to　guess　where　the　nasty…looking　cut　on　Zach's　lip　had　e　from；　or　why　Trevor　wasn't　carrying　his　sketchbook。
　　Kinsey　had　been　surprised　when　they　came　up　to　him　in　Potter's　Store　all　rumpled　and　bright…eyed　and　reeking　of　sex；　as　obviously　connected　as　if　they　were　clutching　hands。　Of　all　the　things　Kinsey　might　have　predicted　for　Trevor's　first　week　in　Missing　Mile；　getting　laid　was　not　among　them。　But　he　had　sent　Zach　out　there；　and　now　here　they　were。　He　wondered　if　he　had　averted　something；　or　only　made　the　house　dangerous　for　two　boys　instead　of　one。
　　Kinsey　hadn't　been　feeling　very　good　about　his　own　judgment　since　yesterday；　since　hearing　that　Rima　had　cracked　up　her　car　and　died　on　the　highway　outside　of　town。　It　must　have　happened　right　after　she　left　the　Sacred　Yew。　If　he　hadn't　been　worrying　about　the　stupid　dinner　special；　if　he'd　taken　the　time　to　talk　to　the　girl；　to　ask　the　right　questions；　or　better　yet；　to　listen　。　。　。
　　（〃Listen？　Ask　the　right　questions？〃　Terry　had　raged　at　him。　〃You　fuckin'　hippie！　You　caught　that　bitch　with　her　hand　in　the　fuckin'　till。〃
　　〃But　maybe　if　I'd　given　her　the　money…〃
　　〃THEN　SHE　WOULD　HAVE　BOUGHT　MORE　COKE！　Give　it　up；　Kinsey！　Give　it　the　fuck　UP！〃）
　　In　his　heart　Kinsey　knew　Rima　had　probably　been　a　lost　cause。　But　her　mindless；　meaningless　death　made　him　wonder　how　far　his　good　intentions　could　reach；　how　much　he　could　ever　do　for　these　lost　kids　he　wanted　so　much　to　help　on　their　way。
　　Well；　time　would　tell。　This　was　Kinsey's　unofficial　philosophy　on　nearly　all　matters　that　did　not　require　his　immediate　attention。
　　He　opened　the　oven　door　and　poked　at　the　lasagna　with　a　fork。　A　sullen　little　cloud　of　steam　rose　from　its　pale　greenish　surface。　It　was　still　a　bit　wet；　but　by　the　time　Trevor　and　Zach　finished　whatever　they　were　doing　in　the　bathroom；　he　thought　it　might　be　cooked　through。　Kinsey　sliced　a　loaf　of　whole…grain　bread；　spread　it　with　butter；　opened　a　bottle　of　sweet　red　wine；　and　began　to　brew　a　pot　of　strong　coffee。
　　He　might　not　be　able　to　help　them；　but　at　least　he　could　feed　them　well。
　　Zach　stared　at　the　huge　green　lump　of　food　on　his　plate。　Trevor　was　eating　automatically；　his　fork　rising　and　falling；　his　green　lump　quickly　disappearing；　washed　down　with　cup　after　cup　of　black　coffee。　He　had　grown　up　in　an　orphanage；　he　could　probably　eat　most　anything　put　in　front　of　him。
　　But　Zach　just　couldn't　get　started。　Though　he　was　usually　disposed　to　like　things　that　began　with　Z；　he　thought　zucchini　might　be　his　least　favorite　vegetable。　It　was　soggy　and　nearly　tasteless；　with　only　a　faint　unpleasant　flavor　like　chlorophyll　tinged　with　sweat。　If　dirty　socks　grew　on　a　vine；　Zach　thought；　they　would　taste　like　zucchini。
　　The　casserole　or　whatever　it　was　Kinsey　had　tried　to　make　reminded　him　of　the　food　in　the　ic　Calvin　and　Hobbes　that　would　jump　off　the　plate　and　hop　across　the　table　or　down　the　kid's　shirt　making　noises　like　blurp　and　argh。　But　Zach　was　too　polite　to　pull　a　Calvin　face。　Instead　he　poured　himself　another　glass　of　wine　and　wished　he　were　back　in　the　shower　with　Trevor's　hands　reaching　around　to　soap　his　back；　with　his　open　mouth　sliding　across　Trevor's　wet　slippery　chest。
　　〃Can　I　get　you　something　else？〃　Kinsey　asked　him。
　　〃No；　thanks。　I　guess　I'm　just　not　very　hungry。〃　In　truth；　Zach　felt　slightly　nauseated　after　staring　at　the　green　lump　for　so　long；　but　the　wine　seemed　to　be　settling　his　stomach。　He　caught　an　odd　look　from　Trevor　and　remembered　that　asking　Kinsey　to　feed　them　had　been　his　own　idea。　It　was　a　mistake　he　wouldn't　make　again。
　　〃You　must　eat　out　a　lot　in　New　York；〃　said　Kinsey；　and　Trevor　shot　him　another　look：　New　York？
　　〃I　try　to　live　cheap；〃　he　told　Kinsey。
　　〃I　thought　that　was　impossible　in　New　York。〃
　　〃Rent　control；〃　said　Zach　helplessly；　with　no　real　idea　whether　they　had　such　a　thing　in　New　York　City。　Trevor　stared　hard　at　him。
　　I'll　explain　later；　he　thought；　trying　to　telegraph　it　into　Trevor's　head；　and　poured　himself　more　wine。
　　
　　No　sooner　had　they　bid　Kinsey　good　night　and　walked　across　the　overgrown　yard　to　the　car　than　Trevor　said；　〃New　York；　huh？〃
　　Zach's　head　was　spinning　from　the　wine　and　the　joint　they　had　smoked　after　dinner。　He　leaned　against　the　Mustang's　fender。　〃I'll　tell　you　about　it　when　we　get　home。〃
　　〃Tell　me　now。　I　don't　like　being　lied　to。〃
　　〃I　didn't　lie　to　you。　I　lied　to　Kinsey。〃
　　〃I　don't　like　lies　at　all；　Zach。　If　that's　really　your　name。〃
　　〃What？　Did　I　just　hear　that　from　the　lips　of　the　famous　Trevor　Black？〃　Trevor　looked　away。　〃Look；　I　told　you　I　was　on　the　run！　I　can't　just　go　around　telling　everyone　the　truth！　Now　get　in　the　car。〃
　　〃Can　you　drive？〃
　　〃Of　course　I　can　fucking　drive。〃　Zach　pushed　himself　off　the　fender　and　lost　his　balance；　almost　fell　headlong　into　the　grass。　Trevor　caught　him　and　he　leaned　into　Trevor's　arms；　slipped　his　arms　around　Trevor's　waist。　〃Don't　be　mad；〃　he　whispered。
　　〃Are　you　okay？〃　Trevor　asked。
　　Zach　hadn't　eaten　anything　all　day；　and　he　had　drunk　most　of　the　big　bottle　of　wine。　He　imagined　it　sloshing　around　in　his　stomach；　mingling　with　all　the　e　he'd　swallowed；　sweet　ruby　red　swirled　with　salty　pearly　white。　Zach　thought　again　of　the　green　lump　of　lasagna　and　almost　lost　it；　but　he　couldn't　stand　for　Trevor　to　see　him　puke。
　　〃I'm　fine；〃　he　said。　Muffled　against　the　front　of　Trevor's　shirt　it　came　out　as　one　slurry　word。　〃I　just　got　a　little　drunk。　It's　nothing。〃　He　felt　Trevor's　body　stiffen；　remembered　that　Bobby　had　been　drunk　on　whiskey　when　he　killed　the　family。　To　Trevor；　the　words　I'm　drunk；　it's　nothing　must　sound　both　stupid　and　cruel。
　　Well；　they'd　find　ways　to　deal　with　these　pitfalls　and　land　mines；　even　if　it　meant　plowing　straight　through　them。　Zach　wasn't　planning　to　go　on　the　wagon　anytime　soon。
　　And　why　the　hell　not？　he　thought。　He　liked　alcohol…usually…but　it　wasn't　vital　to　him　like　pot；　wasn't　essential　to　his　body　chemistry。　You're　not　in　New　Orleans　where　drinking's　de　rigueur；　not　anymore。　Why　not　just　forget　about　the　stuff　and　make　him　happy？
　　Because　I　don't　WANT　to！！！　his　mind　raged　in　the　voice　of　a　cranky　three…year…old。　I　LIKE　to　get　drunk　sometimes；　there's　nothing　wrong　with　that；　it　doesn't　make　me　beat　people　or　punch　them　or　kill　them！　It　just　makes　me　。。。
　　What？
　　Well；　get　laid；　for　one。
　　He　knew　it　was　true；　he　had　almost　always　been　drunk　when　he　went　cruising　in　the　Quarter。　It　helped　him　gloss　over　all　sorts　of　things；　like　the　look　on　Eddy's　face　when　she　saw　him　chatting　up　some　pretty；　empty…headed　creature　of　the　night；　the　fact　that　he　would　just　as　soon　spit　in　Death's　eye　as　wear　a　rubber；　the　knowledge　that　he　just　didn't　give　a　good　goddamn　about　much　of　anything　beyond　hacking　and　having　orgasms　and　watching　slasher　movies　and　thumbing　his　nose　at　the　world。
　　Except　that　now　he　did。　And　it　seemed　as　good　a　time　to　say　so　as　any。
　　But　just　then　a　vehicle　swept　around　the　corner　of　Kinsey's　street　and　came　screeching　toward　them。　A　pickup　or　a　four…wheel　drive　from　the　sound　and　size　of　it；　though　it　was　going　too　fast　to　tell。　Its　occupants　hung　out　the　windows；　all　hairy　limbs　and　big　bullish　heads　with　John　Deere　and　Red　Man　caps　wedged　down　firmly　over　the　brow　ridge。　〃FUCKIN'　QUAAAAAARES；〃　they　heard；　and　a　fusillade　of　silver　beer　cans　sailed　out　into　the　slipstream　and　came　clattering　around　them　in　the　hot；　still　night。　The　truck　was　already　disappearing　over　the　next　hill。
　　The　boys　had　been　drinking　beer；　Zach　observed。　A　fine　fascist…owned　beer　with　a　bouquet　hinting　at　toxic　waste　and　a　crisp；　golden；　piss…like　undertone　。　。　。
　　He　smelled　the　warm　stale　beer　leaking　onto　the　asphalt；　saw　a　submerged　cigarette　butt　dissolving　in　one　of　the　little　puddles；　and　lost　it。　He　pushed　away　from　Trevor　and　sprawled　headlong　over　the　curb　and　vomited　in　Kinsey's　yard。　It　felt　marvelous；　like　the　release　of　some　crushing　pressure；　like　vile　crimson　poison　flooding　out　of　his　system。　He　felt　the　palms　of　his　hands　connecting　with　the　earth；　felt　energy　flowing　up　into　his　arms　and　through　his　body　in　huge；　slow；　steady　waves。　He　was　plugged　into　the　biggest　damn　battery　of　all。
　　When　he　was　able　to　raise　his　head；　Zach　saw　Trevor　staring　at　him　like　some　interesting　but　faintly　repulsive　bug。　Zach　crawled　away　from　his　puddle　of　vomit　and　sat　shakily　on　the　curb。　He　took　off　his　spattered　glasses；　wiped　them　on　the　tail　of　his　shirt；　Trevor　sat　down　next　to　him。
　　〃Do　you　know　how　many　times　I　saw　my　dad　get　sick　from　drinking？〃　Trevor　asked。
　　〃A　bunch；　I　guess。〃
　　〃No。　Just　once。　Sometimes　I　wonder　what　would　have　happened；　though；　if　he'd　had　a　few　more　shots　before　Momma　came　home　that　night。　What　if　he'd　made　himself　sick　and　passed　out？　What　if　Momma　could　tell　somehow　that　he'd　drugged　us？〃
　　〃It　sounds　like　Bobby　was　pretty　much　unstoppable。〃
　　〃Maybe。〃　Trevor　shrugged。　〃But　maybe　one　more　shot　would've　knocked　him　out。　Maybe　Momma　would　have　taken　me　and　Didi　away。〃
　　〃I　guess　it's　possible。〃　More　than　anything；　Zach　wanted　Trevor　to　put　an　arm　around　his　shoulders；　wanted　to　lean　into　Trevor's　solid　forting　warmth。　But　he　wasn't　sure　if　Trevor　was　mad　at　him。　〃I　used　to　hope　the　same　thing　when　my　parents　would　go　on　a　binge；〃　he　said。　〃I'd　think；　Just　a　couple　more　drinks　and　they'll　pass　out。　They'll　shut　up。　They　won't　hit　me　anymore。　But　once　they　got　on　a　tear；　they　usually　stayed　on　it　for　a　while。〃
　　〃And　you　caught　the　worst　of　it。〃
　　〃Yeah；　unless　they　had　something　better　to　do。〃
　　〃Then　how…〃　Trevor　turned　to　Zach；　spread　his　hands　wide。　The　expression　on　his　face　was　half　disgust；　half　genuine　bewilderment。　〃How　can　you　drink　now？　You