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！
'I've reviewed your course…work； David； I've re…scanned your paper on feudalism in France during the middle ages； I've even been through your transcripts。 You haven't exhibited brilliance； but you've done okay。 And I'm aware that you're simply satisfying a requirement here … your real interests don't lie in my field； do they？'
Defuniak shakes his head mutely。 The tears gleam on his cheeks in that untrustworthy mid…March sunlight。
There's a box of Kleenex on the er of Jonesy's desk； and he tosses it to the boy； who catches it easily even in his distress。 Good reflexes。 When you're nineteen； all your wiring is still nice and tight； all your connections nice and solid。
Wait a few years； Mr Defuniak； he thinks。 I'm only thirty…seven and already some of my wires are getting loose。
'Maybe you deserve another chance； 'Jonesy says。
Slowly and deliberately； he begins to crumple Defuniak's midterm； which is suspiciously perfect； A…plus work； into a ball。
'Maybe what happened is you were sick the day of the mid…term； and you never took it at all。'
'I was sick；' David Defuniak says eagerly。 'I think I had the flu。'
'Then maybe I ought to give you a take…home essay instead of the multiple…choice test to which your colleagues have been subjected。 If you want it。 To make up for the test you missed。 Would you want that？'
'Yeah；' the kid says； wiping his eyes madly with a large swatch of tissues。 At least he hasn't gone through all that small…time cheapshit stuff about how Jonesy can't prove it； can't prove a thing； he'd take it to the Student Affairs Council； he'd call a protest； blah…blah…blahde…blah。 He's crying instead； which is unfortable to witness but probably a good sign … nineteen is young； but too many of them have lost most of their consciences by the time they get there。 Defuniak has pretty much owned up； which suggests there might still be a man in there； waiting to e out。 'Yeah； that'd be great。'
'And you understand that if anything like this ever happens again…'
'It won't；' the kid says fervently。 'It won't； Professor Jones。' Although Jonesy is only an associate professor； he doesn't bother to correct him。 Someday； after all； he will be Professor Jones。 He better be； he and his wife have a houseful of kids； and if there aren't at least a few salary…bumps in his future； life is apt to be a pretty tough scramble。 They've had some tough scrambles already。
'I hope not；' he says。 'Give me three thousand words on the short…term results of the Norman Conquest； David； all right？ Cite sources but no need of footnotes。 Keep it informal； but present a cogent thesis。 I want it by next Monday。 Understood？'
'Yes。 Yes； sir。'
'Then why don't you go on and get started。' He points at Defuniak's tatty footwear。 'And the next time you think of buying beer； buy some new sneakers instead。 I wouldn't want you to catch the flu again。'
Defuniak goes to the door； then turns。 He is anxious to be gone before Mr Jones changes his mind； but he is also nineteen。 And curious。 'How did you know？ You weren't even there that day。 Some grad student proctored the test。'
'I knew； and that's enough；' Jonesy says with some asperity。 'Go on； son。 Write a good paper。 Hold onto your scholarship。 I'm from Maine myself … Derry … and I know Pittsfield。 It's a better place to be from than to go back to。'
'You got that right；' Defuniak says fervently。 'Thank you。 Thank you for giving me a chance。'
'Close the door on your way out。'
Defuniak … who will spend his sneaker…money not on beer but on a get…well bouquet for Jonesy … goes out； obediently closing the door behind him。 Jonesy swings around and looks out the window again。 The sunshine is untrustworthy but enticing。 And because the Defuniak thing went better than he had expected； he thinks he wants to get out in that sunlight before more March clouds … and maybe snow … e rolling in。 He has planned to eat in his office； but a new plan occurs to him。 It is absolutely the worst plan of his life； but of course Jonesy doesn't know that。 The plan is to grab his briefcase； pick up a copy of the Boston Phoenix； and walk across the river to Cambridge。 He'll sit on a bench and eat his egg salad sandwich in the sun。
He gets up to put Defuniak's file in the cabinet marked D…F。 How did you know？ the boy had asked； and Jonesy supposes that was a good question。 An excellent question； really； The answer is this： he knew because 。 。 。 sometimes he does。 That's the truth； and there's no other。 If someone put a gun to his head； he'd say he found out during the first class after the mid…term； that it was right there in the front of David Defuniak's mind； big and bright； flashing on and off in guilty red neon： CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER。
But man； that's dope … he can't read minds。 He never could。 Never…ever； never…ever； never…ever could。 Sometimes things flash into his head； yes … he knew about his wife's problems with pills that way； and he supposes he might have known in that same way that Henry was depressed when he called （No； it was in his voice； doofus； that's all it was）； but stuff like that hardly ever happens anymore。 There has been nothing really odd since the business with Josie Rinkenhauer。 Maybe there was something once； and maybe it trailed them out of their childhoods and adolescence； but surely it is gone now。 Or almost gone。
Almost。
He circles the words going to Derry on his desk calendar； then grabs his briefcase。 As he does； a new thought es to him； sudden and meaningless but very powerful： Watch out for Mr Gray。
He stops with one hand on his doorknob。 That was his own voice； no doubt about it。
'What？' he asks the empty room。
Nothing。
Jonesy steps out of his office； closes the door； and tests the lock。
In the er of his door's bulletin board is a blank white card。 Jonesy unpins it and turns it over。 On the flip side is the printed message BACK AT ONE … UNTIL THEN I'M HISTORY。 He pins the message side to the bulletin board with perfect confidence； but it will be almost two months before Jonesy enters this room again and sees his desk calendar still turned to St Patrick's Day。
Take care of yourself； Henry said； but Jonesy isn't thinking about taking care of himself。 He is thinking about March sunlight。 He's thinking about eating his sandwich。 He's thinking he might watch a few girls over on the Cambridge side … skirts are short； and March winds are frisky。 He's thinking about all sorts of things； but watching out for Mr Gray isn't one of them。 Neither is taking care of himself
This is a mistake。 This is also how lives change forever。
P A R T O N E
CANCER
This shaking keeps me steady。 I should know。
What falls away is always。 And is near。
I wake to sleep； and take my waking slow。
I learn by going where I have to go。
Theodore Roethke
CHAPTER ONE
McCARTHY
1
Jonesy almost shot the guy when he came out of the woods。 How close？ Another pound on the Garand's trigger； maybe just a half。 Later； hyped on the clarity that sometimes es to the horrified mind； he wished he had shot before he saw the orange cap and the orange flagman's vest。 Killing Richard McCarthy couldn't have hurt； and it might have helped。 Killing McCarthy might have saved them all。
2
Pete and Henry had gone to Gosselin's Market； the closest store； to stock up on bread； canned goods； and beer； the real essential。 They had plenty for another two days； but the radio said there might be snow ing。 Henry had already gotten his deer； a good…sized doe； and Jonesy had an idea Pete cared a lot more about making sure of the beer supply than he did about getting his own deer … for Pete Moore； hunting was a hobby； beer a religion。 The Beaver was out there someplace； but Jonesy hadn't heard the crack of a rifle any closer than five miles； so he guessed that the Beav； like him； was still waiting；
There was a stand in an old maple about seventy yards from the camp and that was where Jonesy was； sipping coffee and reading a Robert Parker mystery novel； when he heard something ing and put the book and the Thermos aside。 In other years he might have spi