Сияние

The Snowmobile

           

           Hewalkedovertothem,steppingoveranoldeight-cellbattery(whichhadoncesatbeneaththehoodofthehoteltruck,nodoubt)andabatterychargerandapairofJ.C.Penneyjumpercablescoiledbetweenthem.Heslippedoneoftheshort-handledmalletsoutofthefrontrackandhelditupinfrontofhisface,likeaknightboundforbattlesalutinghisking.

           Fragmentsofhisdream(itwasalljumblednow,fading)recurred,somethingaboutGeorgeHatfieldandhisfather’scane,justenoughtomakehimuneasyand,absurdlyenough,atrifleguiltyaboutholdingaplainoldgarden-varietyroquemallet.Notthatroquewassuchacommongarden-varietygameanymore;itsmoremoderncousin,croquet,wasmuchmorepopularnow…andachild’sversionofthegameatthat.Roque,however…thatmusthavebeenquiteagame.Jackhadfoundamildewedrulebookdowninthebasement,fromoneoftheyearsintheearlytwentieswhenaNorthAmericanRoqueTournamenthadbeenheldattheOverlook.Quiteagame.

           (schizo)

           Hefrownedalittle,thensmiled.Yes,itwasaschizosortofgameatthat.Themalletexpressedthatperfectly.Asoftendandahardend.Agameoffinesseandaim,andagameofraw,bludgeoningpower.

           Heswungthemalletthroughtheair…whhhoooop.Hesmiledalittleatthepowerful,whistlingsounditmade.Thenhereplaceditintherackandturnedtohisleft.Whathesawtheremadehimfrownagain.

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