cb.imajica1-第25章

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　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　away　again。　He　pulled　off　his　leather　jacket　and　threw　it　over　his　head　as　primitive　protection　against　the　heat；　then　ducked　through　the　fence。　There　was　solid　flame　in　front　of　him；　making　the　way　forward　impassable。　He　tried　to　his　left　and　found　a　gap　between　two　blazing　vehicles。　Dodging　between　them；　the　smell　of　singeing　leather　already　sharp　in　his　nostrils；　he　found　himself　in　the　middle　of　the　pound；　a　space　relatively　free　of　bustible　material；　and　thus　of　fire。　But　on　every　side；　the　flames　had　hold。　Only　three　of　the　trailers　weren't　blazing；　and　the　veering　wind　would　soon　carry　the　flame　in　their　direction。　How　many　of　the　inhabitants　had　fled　before　the　flames　took　hold　he　couldn't　know；　but　it　was　certain　there'd　be　no　further　escapees。　The　heat　was　nearly　unbearable。　It　beat　upon　him　from　every　side；　cooking　his　thoughts　to　incoherence。　But　he　held　on　to　the　image　of　the　creature　he'd　e　to　find；　determined　not　to　desert　the　pyre　until　he　had　that　face　in　his　hands　or　knew　beyond　doubt　it　was　ash。
　A　dog　appeared　from　the　smoke；　barking　hysterically。
　As　it　ran　past　him　a　fresh　eruption　of　fire　drove　it　back　the　way　it　had　e；　its　panic　escalating。　Having　no　better　route；　he　chased　its　tail　through　the　chaos；　calling　Pie's　name　as　he　ran；　though　each　breath　he　took　was　hotter　than　the　last；　and　after　a　few　such　shouts　the　name　was　a　rasp。　He'd　lost　the　dog　in　the　smoke；　and　all　sense　of　direction　at　the　same　time。　Even　if　the　way　was　still　clear　he　no　longer　knew　where　it　lay。　The　world　was　fire　on　every　side。
　Somewhere　up　ahead　he　heard　the　dog　again；　and　thinking　now　that　maybe　the　only　life　he'd　claim　from　this　horror　was　the　hound's；　he　ran　in　search　of　it。　Tears　were　pouring　from　his　smoke…stung　eyes；　he　could　barely　focus　on　the　ground　he　was　stumbling　across。　The　barking　stopped　again；　leaving　him　without　a　beacon。　There　was　no　way　to　go　but　forward；　hoping　the　silence　didn't　mean　the　dog　had　succumbed。　It　hadn't。　He　spotted　it　ahead　of　him　now；　cowering　in　terror。
　As　he　drew　a　breath　to　call　it　to　him　he　saw　the　figure　beyond　it；　stepping　from　the　smoke。　The　fire　had　taken　its　toll　on　Pie　'oh'　pah；　but　he　was　at　least　alive。　His　eyes；　like　Gentle's；　streamed。　There　was　blood　at　his　mouth　and　neck　and；　in　his　arms；　a　forlorn　bundle。　A　child。
　〃Are　there　more？〃　Gentle　yelled。
　Pie's　reply　was　to　glance　back　over　his　shoulder；　towards　a　heap　of　debris　that　had　once　been　a　trailer。　Rather　than　draw　another　lung…cooking　breath　to　reply；　Gentle　started　towards　this　bonfire　but　was　intercepted　by　Pie；　who　passed　over　the　child　in　his　arms；
　〃Take　her；〃　he　said。
　Gentle　threw　aside　his　jacket　and　took　the　child。
　〃Now　get　out！〃　Pie　said。　〃I'll　follow。〃
　He　didn't　wait　to　see　his　instruction　obeyed　but　turned　back　towards　the　debris。
　Gentle　looked　down　at　the　child　he　was　carrying。　She　was　bloody　and　blackened；　surely　dead。　But　perhaps　life　could　be　pumped　back　into　her　if　he　was　quick。　What　was　the　fastest　route　to　safety？　The　way　he'd　e　was　blocked　now；　and　the　ground　ahead　littered　with　burning　wreckage。　Between　left　and　right；　he　chose　left；　because　he　heard　the　incongruous　sound　of　somebody　whistling　somewhere　in　the　smoke：　at　least　proof　that　breath　could　be　drawn　in　that　direction。
　The　dog　came　with　him；　but　only　for　a　few　steps。　Then　it　retreated　again；　despite　the　fact　that　the　air　was　cooler　by　the　step；　and　a　gap　in　the　flames　was　visible　ahead。　Visible；　but　not　empty。　As　Gentle　headed　for　the　place　a　figure　stepped　out　from　behind　one　of　the　bonfires。　It　was　the　whistler；　still　practicing　his　craft；　though　his　hair　was　burning　and　his　hands；　raised　in　front　of　him；　were　smoking　ruins。　He　turned　his　head　as　he　walked　and　looked　at　Gentle。
The　tune　he　whistled　was　charmless；　but　it　was　sweet　beside　the　stare　he　had。　His　eyes　were　like　mirrors；　reflecting　the　fires：　they　flared　and　smoked。　This　was　the　fire　setter；　he　realized；　or　one　of　them。　That　was　why　it　whistled　as　it　burned；　because　this　was　its　paradise。　It　didn't　attempt　to　lay　its　carbonized　hands　on　either　Gentle　or　the　child　but　walked　on　into　the　smoke；　turning　its　stare　back　towards　the　blaze　as　it　did　so；　leaving　Gentle's　route　to　the　perimeter　clear。　The　cooler　air　was　heady；　it　dizzied　him；　made　him　stumble。　He　held　on　tight　to　the　child；　his　only　thought　now　to　get　it　out　into　the　street；　in　which　endeavor　he　was　aided　by　two　masked　firemen　who'd　seen　his　approach　and　came　to　meet　him　now；　arms　outstretched。　One　took　the　child　from　him；　the　other　bore　him　up　as　his　legs　gave　way　beneath　him。
　〃There's　people　alive　in　there！〃　he　said；　looking　back　towards　the　fire。　〃You've　got　to　get　them　out！〃
　His　rescuer　didn't　leave　his　side　till　he'd　got　Gentle　through　the　fence　and　into　the　street。　Then　there　were　other　hands　to　take　charge。　Ambulance　attendants　with　stretchers　and　blankets；　telling　him　that　he　was　safe　now　and　everything　would　be　all　right。　But　it　wasn't；　not　as　long　as　Pie　was　in　the　fire。　He　shrugged　off　the　blanket　and　refused　the