Сияние

Inside 217

           Andsomethingthatseemedtobeapoem,scribbledonthebackofamenuindarkpencil:"Medoc/areyouhere?/I’vebeensleepwalkingagain,mydear./Theplantsaremovingundertherug."Nodateonthemenu,andnonameonthepoem,ifitwasapoem.Elusive,butfascinating.Itseemedtohimthatthesethingswerelikepiecesinajigsaw,thingsthatwouldeventuallyfittogetherifhecouldfindtherightlinkingpieces.Andsohekeptlooking,jumpingandwipinghislipseverytimethefurnaceroaredintolifebehindhim.

           ***

           DannywasstandingoutsideRoom217again.

           Thepasskeywasinhispocket.Hewasstaringatthedoorwithakindofdruggedavidity,andhisupperbodyseemedtotwitchandjigglebeneathhisflannelshirt.Hewashummingsoftlyandtunelessly.

           Hehadn’twantedtocomehere,notafterthefirehose.Hewasscaredtocomehere.Hewasscaredthathehadtakenthepasskeyagain,disobeyinghisfather.

           Hehadwantedtocomehere.Curiosity

           (killedthecat;satisfactionbroughthimback)

           waslikeaconstantfishhookinhisbrain,akindofnaggingsirensongthatwouldnotbeappeased.Andhadn’tMr.Hallorannsaid,"Idon’tthinkthere’sanythingherethatcanhurtyou"?

           (Youpromised.)

           (Promisesweremadetobebroken.)

           Hejumpedatthat.Itwasasifthatthoughthadcomefromoutside,insectile,buzzing,softlycajoling.

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