sk.carrie-第8章

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'No！'　She　felt　her　breath　go　thick　with　terror。
'Go　to　your　closet。　Pray　in　secret。　Ask　forgiveness　for　your　sins。'
'I　didn't　sin；　Momma。　You　sinned。　You　didn't　tell　me　and　they　laughed。'
Again　she　seemed　to　see　a　flash　of　fear　in　Momma's　eyes；　gone　as　quickly　and　soundlessly　as　summer　lightning。　Momma　began　to　force　Carrie　toward　the　blue　glare　of　the　closet。
'Pray　to　God　and　your　sins　may　be　washed　away。'
'Momma；　you　let　me　go。'
'Pray；　woman。'
'I'll　make　the　stones　e　again；　Momma。'
Momma　halted。
Even　her　breath　seemed　to　stop　in　her　throat　for　a　moment。　And　then　the　hand　tightened　on　her　neck；　tightened；　until　Carrie　saw　red；　lurid　dots　in　front　of　her　eyes　and　felt　her　brain　go　fuzzy　and　far…off。
Momma's　magnified　eyes　swam　in　front　of　her。
'You　spawn　of　the　devil；'　she　whispered。　'Why　was　I　so　cursed？'
Carrie's　whirling　mind　strove　to　find　something　huge　enough　to　express　her　agony；　shame；　terror；　hate；　fear。　It　seemed　her　whole　life　had　narrowed　to　this　miserable；　beaten　point　of　rebellion。　Her　eyes　bulged　crazily；　her　mouth；　filled　with　spit；　opened　wide。
'YOU　SUCK！'　she　screamed。
Momma　hissed　like　a　burned　cat。　'Sin！'　she　cried。　'O；　Sin！　She　began　to　beat　Carrie's　back；　her　neck；　her　head。　Carrie　was　driven；　reeling；　into　the　close　blue　glare　of　the　closet。
'YOU　FUCK！'　Carrie　screamed。
（there　there　o　there　it's　out　how　else　do　you　think　she　got　you　o　god　o　good）
She　was　whirled　into　the　closet　headfirst　and　she　struck　the　far　wall　and　fell　on　the　floor　in　a　semidaze。　The　door　slammed　and　the　key　turned。
She　was　alone　with　Momma's　angry　God。
The　blue　light　glared　on　a　picture；　of　a　huge　and　bearded　Yahweh　who　was　casting　screaming　multitudes　of　humans　down　through　cloudy　depths　into　an　abyss　of　fire。　Below　them；　black　horrid　figures　struggled　through　the　flames　of　perdition　while　The　Black　Man　sat　on　a　huge　flame…coloured　throne　with　a　trident　in　one　hand。　His　body　was　that　of　a　man；　but　he　had　a　spiked　tail　and　the　head　of　a　jackal。
She　would　not　break　this　time。
But　of　course　she　did　break。　It　took　six　hours　but　she　broke；　weeping　and　calling　Momma　to　open　the　door　and　let　her　out。　The　need　to　urinate　was　terrible。　The　Black　Man　grinned　at　her　with　his　jackal　mouth；　and　his　scarlet　eyes　knew　all　the　secrets　of　woman…blood。
An　hour　after　Carrie　began　to　call；　Momma　let　her　out。　Carrie　scrabbled　madly　for　the　bathroom。
It　was　only　now；　three　hours　after　that；　sitting　here　with　her　head　bowed　over　the　sewing　machine　like　a　penitent；　that　she　remembered　the　fear　in　Momma's　eyes　and　she　thought　she　knew　the　reason　why。
There　had　been　other　times　when　Momma　had　kept　her　in　the　closet　for　as　long　as　a　day　at　a　stretch…when　she　stole　that　forty…nine…cent　finger　ring　from　Shuber's　Five　and　Ten；　the　time　she　had　found　that　picture　of　Flash　Bobby　Pickett　under　Carrie's　pillow　…　and　Carrie　had　once　fainted　from　the　lack　of　food　and　the　smell　of　her　own　waste。　And　she　had　never；　never　spoken　back　as　she　had　done　today。　Today　she　had　even　said　the　Eff　Word。　Yet　Momma　had　let　her　out　almost　as　soon　as　she　broke。
There。　The　dress　was　done。　She　removed　her　feet　from　the　treadle　and　held　it　up　to　look　at　it。　It　was　long。　And　ugly。　She　hated　it。
She　knew　why　Momma　had　let　her　out。
'Momma；　may　I　go　to　bed？'
'Yes。'　Momma　did　not　look　up　from　her　doily。
She　folded　the　dress　over　her　arm。　She　looked　down　at　the　sewing　machine。　All　at　once　the　treadle　depressed　itself。　The　needle　began　to　dip　up　and　down；　catching　the　light　in　steely　flashes。　The　bobbin　whirred　and　jerked。　The　sidewheel　spun。
Momma's　head　jerked　up；　her　eyes　wide。　The　looped　matrix　at　the　edge　of　her　doily；　wonderfully　intricate　yet　at　the　same　time　as　precise　and　even；　suddenly　fell　in　disarray。
'Only　clearing　the　thread；'　Carrie　said　softly。
'Go　to　bed；'　Momma　said　curtly；　and　the　fear　was　back　in　her　eyes。
'Yes；
（she　was　afraid　i'd　knock　the　closet　door　right　off　its　hinges）
Momma；'
（and　i　think　i　could　i　think　i　could　yes　i　think　i　could）
From　The　Shadow　Exploded　（p。　58）：
Margaret　White　was　born　and　raised　in　Motton；　a　small　town　which　borders　Chamberlain　and　sends　its　tuition　students　to　Chamberlain's　junior　and　senior　high　schools。　Her　parents　were　fairly　well…to…do；　they　owned　a　prosperous　night　spot　just　outside　the　Motton　town　limits　called　The　Jolly　Roadhouse。　Margaret's　father；　John　Brigham；　was　killed　in　a　barroom　shooting　incident　in　the　summer　of　1959。
Margaret　Brigham；　who　was　then　almost　thirty；　began　attending　fundamentalist　prayer　meetings。　Her　mother　had　bee　involved　with　a　new　man　（Harold　Alison；　whom　she　later　married）　and　they　both　wanted　Margaret　out　of　the　house…she　believed　her　mother；　Judith；　and　Harold　Alison　were　living　in　sin　and　made　her　views　known　frequently。　Judith　Brigham　expected　her　daughter　to　remain　a　spinster　the　rest　of　her　life。　In　the　more　pungent　phraseology　of　her　soon…to…be　stepfather；　'Margaret　had　a　face　like　the　ass　end　of　a　gasoline　truck　and　a　body　to　match。'　He　also　referred　to　her　as　'a　little　prayin'　Jesus。'
Margaret　refused　to　leave　until　1960；　when　she　met　Ralph　White　at　a　revival　meeting。　In　September　of　that　year　she　left　the　Brigham。　residence　in　Motton　and　moved　to　a　small　flat　in　Chamberlain　Centre。
The　courtship　of　Margaret　Brigham；　and　Ralph　White　terminated　in　marriage　on　March　23；　1962。　On　April　3；　1962；　Margaret　White　was　admitted　briefly　to　Westover　Doctors　Hospital。
'Nope；　she　wouldn't　tell　us　what　was　wrong；'　Harold　Alison　said。　'The　one　time　we　went　to　see　her　she　told　us　we　were　living　in　adultery　even　though　we　were　hitched；　and　we　were　going　to　hell。　She　said　God　had　put　an　invisible　mark　on　our　foreheads；　but　she　could　see　it。　Acted　crazy　as　a　bat　in　a　henhouse；　she　did。　Her　mom　tried　to　be　nice；　tried　to　find　out　what　the　matter　with　her　was。　She　got　hysterical　and　started　to　rave　about　an　angel　with　a　sword　who　would　walk　through　the　parking　lots　of　roadhouses　and　cut　down　the　wicked。　We　left。'
Judith　Alison；　however；　had　at　least　an　idea　of　what　might　have　been　wrong　with　her　daughter；　she　thought　that　Margaret　had　gone　through　a　miscarriage。　If　so；　the　baby　was　conceived　out　of　wedlock。　Confirmation　of　this　would　shed　an　interesting　light　on　the　character　of　Carrie's　mother。
In　a　long　and　rather　hysterical　letter　to　her　mother　dated　August　19；　1962；　Margaret　said　that　she　and　Ralph　were　living　sinlessly；　without　'the　Curse　of　Intercourse'。　She　urged　Harold　and　Judith　Alison　to　close　their　'abode　of　wickedness'　and　do　likewise。　'It　is；'　Margaret　declares　near　the　end　of　her　letter；　'the　only　＇sic＇　way　you　&　That　Man　can　avoid　the　Rain　of　Blood　yet　to　e。　Ralph　&　I；　like　Mary　&　Joseph；　will　neither　know　or　polute　＇sic＇　each　others　flesh。　If　there　is　issue；　let　it　be　Divine。'
Of　course；　the　calendar　tells　us　that　Carrie　was　conceived　later　that　same　year　。。。
The　girls　dressed　quietly　for　their　Monday　morning　Period　One　gym　class；　with　no　horseplay　or　little　screaming　catcalls；　and　none　of　them　were　very　surprised　when　Miss　Desjardin　slammed　open　the　locker…room　and　walked　in。　Her　silver　whistle　dangling　between　her　small　breasts；　and　if　her　shorts　were　the　ones　she　had　been　wearing　on　Friday；　no　trace　of　Carrie's　bloody　handprint　remained。
The　girls　continued　to　dress　sullenly；　not　looking　at　her。
'Aren't　you　the　bunch　to　send　out　for　graduation；'　Miss
Desjardin　said　softly。　'When　is　it？　A　month？　And　the　spring　Ball　even　less　than　that。　Most　of　you　have　your　dates　and　gowns　already；　I　bet。　Sue；　you'll　be　going　with　Tommy　Ross。　Helen；　Roy　Evarts。　Chris；　I　imagine　you　can　take　your　pick。　Who's　the　lucky　guy？'。
'Billy　Nolan；'　Chris　Hargensen　said　sullenly。
'Well；　isn't　he　the　lucky　one？'　Desjardin　remarked。　'What　are　you　going　to　give　him　for　a　party　favour；　Chris；　a　bloody　Kotex？　Or　how　about　some　used　toilet　paper？　I　understand　these　things　seem　to　be　your　sack　these　days。'
Chris　went　red。　'I'm　leaving。　I　don't　have　to　listen　to　that。'
Desjardin　had　not　been　able　to　get　the　image　of　Carrie　out　of　her　mind　all　weekend；　Carrie　screaming；　blubbering；　a　wet　napkin　plastered　squarely　in　the　middle　of　her　pubic　hair…and　her　own　sick；　angry　reaction。
And　now；　as　Chris　tried　to　storm　out　past　her；　she　reached　out　and　slammed　her　against　a　row　of　dented；　olive…coloured　lockers　beside　the　inner　door。　Chris's　eyes　widened　with　shocked　disbelief。　Then　a　kind　of　insane　rage　filled　her　face。
'You　can't　hit　us！'　she　screamed。　'You'll　get　canned　for　this！　See　if　you　don't；　you　bitch！'
The　other　girls　winced　and　sucked　breath　and　stared　at　the　floor。　It　was　getting　out　of　hand。　Sue　noticed　out　of　the　corner　of　her　eye　that　Fern　and　Donna　Thibodeau　were　holding　hands。
'I　don't　really　care；　Hargensen；'　Desjardin　said。　'If　you　or　any　of　your　girls　…　think　I'm　wearing　my　teacher　hat　right　now；　you're　making　a　bad　mistake。　I　just　want　you　all　to　know　that　you　did　a　shitty　thing　on　Friday。　A　really　shitty　thing。'
Chris　Hargensen　was　sneering　at　the　floor。　The　rest　of　the　girls　were　looking　miserably　at　anything　but　their　gym　instructor。　Sue　found　herself　looking　into　the　shower　stall　…　the　scene　of　the　crime　…　and　jerked　her　glance　elsewhere。　None　of　them　had　ever　heard　a　teacher　call　anything　shitty　before。　
'Did　any　of　you　stop　to　think　that　Carrie　White　has　feelings？　Do　any　of　you　ever　stop　to　think？　Sue？　Fern？　Helen？　Jessica？　Any　of　you？　You　think　she's　ugly。　Well；　you're　all　ugly。　I　saw　it　on　Friday　morning。'
Chris　Hargensen　was　mumbling　about　her　father　being　a　lawyer。
'Shutup！'　Desjardin　yelled　in　her　face。　Chris　recoiled　so　suddenly　that　her　head　struck　the　lockers　behind　her。　She　began　to　whine　and　rub　her　head。
'One　more　remark　out　of　you；'　Desjardin　said　softly；　'and　I'll　throw　you　across　the　room。　Want　to　find　out　if　I'm　telling　the　truth？'
Chris；　who　had　apparently　decided　she　was　dealing　with　a　mad…woman；　said　nothing。
Desjardin　put　her　hands　on　her　hips。　'The　office　has　decided　on　punishment　for　you　girls。　Not　my　punishment；　I'm　sorry　to　say。　My　idea　was　three　days'　suspension　and　refusal　of　your　prom　tickets。'
Several　girls　looked　at　each　other　and　muttered　unhappily。
'That　would　have　hit　you　where　you　live；'　Desjardin　continued；　'Unfortunately；　Ewen　is　staffed　pletely　by　men　in　its　administration　wing。　I　don't　believe　they　have　any　real　conception　of　how　utterly　nasty　what　you　did　was。　So。　One　week's　detention。'
Spontaneous　sighs　of　relief。
'But。　It's　to　be　my　detention。　In　the　gym。　And　I'm　going　to　run　you　ragged。'
'I　won't　e；'　Chris　said。　Her　lips　had　thinned　across　her　teeth。
'That's　up　to　you；　Chris。　That's　up　to　all　of　you。　But　punishment　for　skipping　detention　is　going　to　be　three　days'　suspension　and　refusal　of　your　prom　tickets。　Get　the　picture？'
No　one　said　anything。
'Right。　Change　up。　And　think　about　what　I　said。'
She　left。
Utter　silence　for　a　long　and　stricken　moment。　Then　Chris　Hargensen　said　with　loud；　hysterical　stridency：
'She　can't　get　away　with　it！'　She　opened　a　door　at　random；　pulled　out　a　pair　of　sneakers　and　hurled　them　across　the　room。　'I'm　going　to　get　her！　Goddammit！　Goddammit！　See　if　I　don't！　If　we　all　stick　together　we。。'
'Shut　up；　Chris；'　Sue　said；　and　was　shocked　to　hear　a　dead；　adult　lifelessness　in　her　voice。　'Just　shut　up。'
'This　isn't　over；'　Chris　Hargensen　said；　unzipping　her　skirt　with　a　rough　jab　and　reaching　for　her　fash