dk.intensity-第2章

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er。　
　〃You　think　your　mom　and　dad　will　like　me？〃　Chyna　asked。
　〃I　thought　you　were　worried　about　a　blown　tire。〃
　〃I'm　a　multichannel　worrier。　Will　they　like　me？〃
　〃Of　course　they'll　like　you。　You　know　what　I　worry　about？〃　Laura　asked　as　they　raced　toward　the　top　of　the　incline。
　〃Apparently；　not　death。〃
　〃You。　I　worry　about　you；〃　Laura　said。　She　glanced　at　Chyna；　and　her　expression　was　uncharacteristically　serious。　
　〃I　can　take　care　of　myself；〃　Chyna　assured　her。
　〃I　don't　doubt　that。　I　know　you　too　well　to　doubt　that。　But　life　isn't　just　about　taking　care　of　yourself；　keeping　your　head　down；　getting　through。〃
　〃Laura　Templeton；　girl　philosopher。〃
　〃Life　is　about　living。〃
　〃Deep；〃　Chyna　said　sarcastically。
　〃Deeper　than　you　think。〃
　The　Mustang　crested　the　long　hill；　and　there　were　no　burning　buses　or　cheering　multitudes；　but　ahead　of　them　was　an　older…model　Buick；　cruising　well　below　the　posted　limit。　Laura　cut　their　speed　by　more　than　half；　and　they　pulled　behind　the　other　car。　Even　in　the　fading　light；　Chyna　could　see　that　the　round…shouldered　driver　was　a　white…haired；　elderly　man。
　They　were　in　a　no…passing　zone。　The　road　rose　and　fell；　turned　left　and　right；　rose　again；　and　they　could　not　see　far　ahead。
　Laura　switched　on　the　Mustang　headlights；　hoping　to　encourage　the　driver　of　the　Buick　either　to　increase　his　speed　or　to　ease　over　where　the　shoulder　widened　to　let　them　pass。
　〃Take　your　own　advice…relax；　kiddo；〃　Chyna　said。
　〃Hate　to　be　late　for　dinner。〃
　〃From　everything　you've　said　about　her；　I　don't　think　your　mom's　the　type　to　beat　us　with　wire　coat　hangers。〃
　〃Mom's　the　best。〃
　〃So　relax；〃　Chyna　said。
　〃But　she　has　this　disappointed　look　she　gives　you　that's　worse　than　wire　coat　hangers。　Most　people　don't　know　this；　but　Mom　is　the　reason　the　Cold　War　ended。　Several　years　ago；　the　Pentagon　sent　her　off　to　Moscow　so　she　could　give　the　whole　damn　Politburo　the　Look；　and　all　those　Soviet　thugs　just　collapsed　with　remorse。〃
　Ahead　of　them；　the　old　man　in　the　Buick　checked　his　rearview　mirror。
　The　white　hair　in　the　headlight　beams；　the　angle　of　the　man's　head；　and　the　mere　suggestion　of　his　eyes　reflected　in　the　mirror　suddenly　engendered　in　Chyna　a　powerful　sense　of　deja　vu。　For　a　moment；　she　didn't　understand　why　a　chill　came　over　her…but　then　she　was　cast　back　in　memory　to　an　incident　that　she　had　long　tried　unsuccessfully　to　forget：　another　twilight；　nineteen　years　ago；　a　lonely　Florida　highway。
　〃Oh；　Jesus；〃　she　said。
　Laura　glanced　at　her。　〃What's　wrong？〃
　Chyna　closed　her　eyes。
　〃Chyna；　you're　as　white　as　a　ghost。　What　is　it？〃
　〃A　long　time　ago　。。。　when　I　was　just　a　little　girl；　seven　years　old　。。。　Maybe　we　were　in　the　Everglades；　maybe　not　。。。　buttheland　was　swampy　like　the　'glades。　There　weren't　many　trees；　and　the　few　you　could　see　were　hung　with　Spanish　moss。　Everything　was　flat　as　far　as　you　could　see；　lots　of　sky　and　flatness；　the　sunlight　red　and　fading　like　now；　a　back　road　somewhere；　far　away　from　anything；　very　rural；　two　narrow　lanes；　so　damn　empty　and　lonely。　。　。　。〃
　Chyna　had　been　with　her　mother　and　Jim　Woltz；　a　Key　West　drug　dealer　and　gunrunner　with　whom　they　had　lived　now　and　then；　for　a　month　or　two　at　a　time；　during　her　childhood。　They　had　been　on　a　business　trip　and　had　been　returning　to　the　Keys　in　Woltzs　vintage　red　Cadillac；　one　of　those　models　with　massive　tailfins　and　with　what　seemed　to　be　five　tons　of　chrome　grillwork。　Woltz　was　driving　fast　on　that　straight　highway；　exceeding　a　hundred　miles　an　hour　at　times。　They　hadn't　encountered　another　car　for　almost　fifteen　minutes　before　they　roared　up　behind　the　elderly　couple　in　the　tan　Mercedes。　The　woman　was　driving。　Birdlike。　Close…cropped　silver　hair。　Seventyfive　if　she　was　a　day。　She　was　doing　forty　miles　an　hour。　Woltz　could　have　pulled　around　the　Mercedes；　they　were　in　a　passing　zone；　and　no　traffic　was　in　sight　for　miles　on　that　dead…flat　highway。
　〃But　he　was　high　on　something；〃　Chyna　told　Laura；　eyes　still　closed；　watching　the　memory　with　growing　dread　as　it　played　like　a　movie　on　a　screen　behind　her　eyes。　〃He　was　most　of　the　time　high　on　something。　Maybe　it　was　cocaine　that　day。　I　don't　know。　Don't　remember。　He　was　drinking　too。　They　were　both　drinking；　him　and　my　mother。　They　had　a　cooler　full　of　ice。　Bottles　of　grapefruit　juice　and　vodka。　The　old　lady　in　the　Mercedes　was　driving　really　slow；　and　that　incensed　Woltz。　He　wasn't　rational。　What　did　it　matter　to　him？　He　could've　pulled　around　her。　But　the　sight　of　her　driving　so　slow　on　the　wide…open　highway　infuriated　him。　Drugs　and　booze；　that's　all。　So　irrational。　When　he　was　angry　。。。　red…faced；　arteries　throbbing　in　his　neck；　jaw　muscles　bulging。　No　one　could　get　angry　quite　as　totally　as　Jim　Woltz。　His　rage　excited　my　mother。　Always　excited　her。　So　she　teased　him；　encouraged　him。　I　was　in　the　backseat；　hanging　on　tight；　pleading　with　her　to　stop；　but　she　kept　at　him。〃
　For　a　while；　Woltz　had　hung　close　behind　the　other　car；　blowing　his　horn　at　the　elderly　couple；　trying　to　force　them　to　go　faster。　A　few　times　he　had　nudged　the　rear　bumper　of　the　Mercedes　with　the　front　bumper　of　the　Cadillac；　metal　kissing　metal　with　a　squeal。　Eventually　the　old　woman　got　rattled　and　began　to　swerve　erratically；　afraid　to　go　faster　with　Woltz　so　close　behind　her　but　too　frightened　of　him　to　pull　off　the　road　and　let　him　pass　by。
　〃Of　course；〃　Chyna　said；　〃he　wouldn't　have　gone　past　and　left　her　alone。　By　then　he　was　too　psychotic。　He　would　have　stopped　when　she　stopped。　It　still　would　have　ended　badly。〃
　Woltz　had　pulled　alongside　the　Mercedes　a　few　times；　driving　in　the　wrong　lane；　shouting　and　shaking　his　fist　at　the　white…haired　couple；　who　first　tried　to　ignore　him　and　then　stared　back　wide…eyed　and　fearfui。　Each　time；　rather　than　drive　by　and　leave　them　in　his　dust；　he　had　dropped　behind　again　to　play　tag　with　their　rear　bumper。　To　Woltz；　in　his　drug　fever　and　alcoholic　haze；　this　harassment　was　deadly　serious　business；　with　an　importance　and　a　meaning　that　could　never　be　understood　by　anyone　who　was　clean　and　sober。　To　Chyna's　mother；　Anne；　it　was　all　a　game；　an　adventure；　and　it　was　she；　in　her　ceaseless　search　for　excitement；　who　said；　Why　don't　we　give　her　a　driving　test？　Woltz　said；　Test？　I　don't　need　to　give　the　old　bitch　a　test　to　see　she　can't　drive　for　shit。　This　time；　as　Woltz　pulled　beside　the　Mercedes；　matching　speeds　with　it；　Anne　said；　I　mean；　see　if　she　can　keep　it　on　the　road。　Make　it　a　challenge　for　her。
　To　Laura；　Chyna　recalled；　〃There　was　a　canal　parallel　to　the　road；　one　of　those　drainage　channels　you　see　along　some　Florida　highways。　Not　deep　but　deep　enough。　Woltz　used　the　Cadillac　to　crowd　the　Mercedes　onto　the　shoulder　of　the　road。　The　woman　should　have　crowded　him　back；　forced　him　the　other　way。　She　should　have　tramped　the　pedal　to　the　floor　and　pegged　the　speedometer　and　gotten　the　hell　out　of　there。　The　Mercedes　would've　outrun　the　Cadillac；　no　problem。　But　she　was　old　and　scared；　and　she'd　never　encountered　anyone　like　this。　I　think　she　was　just　disbelieving；　so　unable　to　understand　the　kind　of　people　she　was　up　against；　unable　to　grasp　how　far　they'd　go　even　though　she　and　her　husband　had　done　nothI。ng　to　them。　Woltz　forced　her　off　the　road。　The　Mercedes　rolled　into　the　canal。〃
　Woltz　had　stopped；　shifted　the　Cadillac　into　reverse；　and　backed　up　to　where　the　Mercedes　was　swiftly　sinking。　He　and　Anne　had　gotten　out　of　the　car　to　watch。　Chyna's　mother　had　insisted　that　she　watch　too：　e　on；　you　little　chicken。　You　don't　want　to　miss　this；　baby。　This　is　one　to　remember　The　passenger's　side　of　the　Mercedes　was　flat　against　the　muddy　bottom　of　the　canal；　and　the　driver's　side　was　revealed　to　them　as　they　stood　on　the　embankment　in　the　humid　evening　air。　They　were　being　bitten　by　hordes　of　mosquitoes　but　were　hardly　aware　of　them；　mesmerized　by　the　sight　below　them；　gazing　through　the　driver…side　windows　of　the　submerged　vehicle。
　〃It　was　twilight；〃　Chyna　told　Laura；　putting　into　words　the　images　behind　her　closed　eyes；　〃so　the　headlights　were　on；　still　on　even　after　the　Mercedes　sank；　and　there　were　lights　inside　the　car。　They　had　airconditioning；　so　all　the　windows　were　closed；　and　neither　the　windshield　nor　the　driver…side　window　had　shattered　when　the　car　rolled。　We　could　see　inside；　'cause　the　windows　were　only　a　few　inches　under　water。　There　was　no　sign　of　the　husband。　Maybe　he　was　knocked　unconscious　when　they　rolled。　But　the　old　woman　。。。　her　face　was　at　the　window。　The　car　was　flooded；　but　there　was　a　big　bubble　of　air　against　the　inside　of　the　glass；　and　she　pressed　her　face　into　it　so　she　could　breathe。　We　stood　there　looking　down　at　her。　Woltz　could　have　helped。　My　mother　could　have　helped。　But　they　just　watched。　The　old　woman　couldn't　seem　to　get　the　window　open；　and　the　door　must　have　been　jammed；　or　maybe　she　was　just　too　scared　and　too　weak。〃
　Chyna　had　tried　to　pull　away；　but　her　mother　had　held　her；　speaking　urgently　to　her；　the　whispered　words　borne　on　a　tide　of　breath　sour　with　vodka　and　grapefruit　juice。　We're　different　than　other　people；　baby。　No　rules　apply　to　us。　You'll　never　understand　what　freedom　really　means　ifyou　don't　watch　this。　Chyna　had　closed　her　eyes；　but　she　had　still　been　able　to　hear　the　old　woman　screaming　into　the　big　air　bubble　inside　the　submerged　car。　Muffled　screaming。
　〃Then　gradually　the　screaming　faded　。。。　finally　stopped；〃　Chyna　told　Laura。　〃When　I　opened　my　eyes；　twilight　had　gone　and　night　had　e。　There　was　still　light　in　the　Mercedes；　and　the　woman's　face　was　still　pressed　to　the　glass；　but　a　breeze　had　risen；　rippling　the　water　in　the　canal；　and　her　features　were　a　blur。　I　knew　she　was　dead。　She　and　her　husband。　I　started　to　cry。　Woltz　didn't　like　that。　He　threatened　to　drag　me　into　the　canal；　open　a　door　on　the　Mercedes；　and　shove　me　inside　with　the　dead　people。　My　mother　made　me　drink　some　grapefruit　juice　with　vodka。　I　was　only　seven。　The　rest　of　the　way　back　to　Key　West；　I　lay　on　the　backseat；　dizzy　from　the　vodka；　half　drunk　and　a　little　sick；　still　crying　but　quietly；　so　I　wouldn't　make　Woltz　angry；　crying　quietly　until　I　fell　asleep。〃
　In　Laura's　Mustang；　the　only　sounds　were　the　soft　rumble　of　the　engine　and　the　singing　of　the　tires　on　the　blacktop。
　Chyna　finally　opened　her　eyes　and　came　back　from　the　memory　of　Florida；　from　the　long…ago　humid　twilight　to　the　Napa　Valley；　where　most　of　the　red　light　had　gone　out　of　the　sky　and　darkness　encroached　on　all　sides。
　The　old　man　in　the　Buick　was　no　longer　in　front　of　them。　They　were　not　driving　as　fast　as　before；　and　evidently　he　had　gotten　far　ahead　of　them。
　Laura　said　softly；　〃Dear　God。〃
　Chyna　was　shaking　uncontrollably。　She　plucked　a　few　Kleeney　from　the　console　box　between　the　seats；　blew　her　nose；　and　blotted　her　eyes。　Over　the　past　two　years；　she　had　shared　part　of　her　childhood　with　Laura；　but　every　new　revelation…and　there　was　much　still　to　reveal…was　as　difficult　as　the　one　before　it。　When　she　spoke　of　the　past；　she　always　burned　with　shame；　as　though　she　had　been　as　guilty　as　her　mother；　as　if　every　criminal　act　and　spell　of　madness　could　be　blamed　on　her；　though　she　had　been　only　a　helpless　child　trapped　in　the　insanity　of　others。
　〃Will　you　ever　see　her　again？〃　Laura　asked。
　Recolle