sk.theshining-第86部分

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　　（The　drop；　ah　yes；　the　drop…）　The　wingblades　on　Hallorann's　left；　fully　four　feet　higher　than　the　Electra's　roof；　flirted　by　with　no　more　than　an　inch　or　two　to　spare。　Until　the　plow　had　actually　cleared　him；　Hallorann　had　thought　a　crash　inevitable。　A　prayer　which　was　half　an　inarticulate　apology　to　the　boy　flitted　through　his　mind　like　a　torn　rag。
　　Then　the　plow　was　past；　its　revolving　blue　lights　glinting　and　flashing　in　Hallorann's　rearview　mirror。
　　He　jockeyed　the　Buick's　steering　wheel　back　to　the　left；　but　nothing　doing。
　　The　scoot　had　turned　into　a　skid；　and　the　Buick　was　floating　dreamily　toward　the　lip　of　the　drop；　spurning　snow　from　under　its　mudguards。
　　He　flicked　the　wheel　back　the　other　way；　in　the　skid's　direction；　and　the　car's　front　and　rear　began　to　swap　places。　Panicked　now；　he　pumped　the　brake　hard；　and　then　felt　a　hard　bump。　In　front　of　him　the　road　was　gone　。　。　。　he　was　looking　into　a　bottomless　chasm　of　swirling　snow　and　vague　greenish…gray　pines　far　away　and　far　below。
　　（I'm　going　holy　mother　of　Jesus　I'm　going　off）　And　that　was　where　the　car　stopped；　canting　forward　at　a　thirty…degree　angle；　the　left　fender　jammed　against　a　guardrail；　the　rear　wheels　nearly　off　the　ground。　When　Hallorann　tried　reverse；　the　wheels　only　spun　helplessly。　His　heart　was　doing　a　Gene　Krupa　drumroll。
　　He　got　out…very　carefully　he　got　out…and　went　around　to　the　Buick's　back　deck。
　　He　was　standing　there；　looking　at　the　back　wheels　helplessly；　when　a　cheerful　voice　behind　him　said：　〃Hello　there。　fella。　You　must　be　shit　right　out　of　your　mind。〃　He　turned　around　and　saw　the　plow　forty　yards　further　down　the　road；　obscured　in　the　blowing　snow　except　for　the　raftered　dark　brown　streak　of　its　exhaust　and　the　revolving　blue　lights　on　top。　The　driver　was　standing　just　behind　him；　dressed　in　a　long　sheepskin　coat　and　a　slicker　over　it。　A　blue…and…white　pinstriped　engineer's　cap　was　perched　on　his　head；　and　Hallorann　could　hardly　believe　it　was　staying　on　in　the　teeth　of　the　wind。
　　（Glue。　It　sure…God　must　be　glue。）
　　〃Hi；〃　he　said。　〃Can　you　pull　me　back　onto　the　road？〃
　　〃Oh；　I　guess　I　could；〃　the　plow　driver　said。　〃What　the　hell　you　doing　way　up　here；　mister？　Good　way　to　kill　your　ass。〃
　　〃Urgent　business。〃
　　〃Nothin　is　that　urgent；〃　the　plow　driver　said　slowly　and　kindly；　as　if　speaking　to　a　mental　defective。　〃If　you'd　'a　hit　that　post　a　leetle　mite　harder；　nobody　woulda　got　you　out　till　All　Fools'　Day。　Don't　e　from　these　parts；　do　you？〃
　　〃No。　And　I　wouldn't　be　here　unless　my　business　was　as　urgent　as　I　say。〃
　　〃That　so？〃　The　driver　shifted　his　stance　panionably　as　if　they　were　having　a　desultory　chat　on　the　back　steps　instead　of　standing　in　a　blizzard　halfway　between　hoot　and　holler；　with　Hallorann's　car　balanced　three　hundred　feet　above　the　tops　of　the　trees　below。
　　〃Where　you　headed？　Estes？〃
　　〃No；　a　place　called　the　Overlook　Hotel；〃　Hallorann　said。　〃It's　a　little　way　above　Sidewinder…〃　But　the　driver　was　shaking　his　head　dolefully。
　　〃I　guess　I　know　well　enough　where　that　is；〃　he　said。　〃Mister；　you'll　never　get　up　to　the　old　Overlook。　Roads　between　Estes　Park　and　Sidewinder　is　bloody　damn　hell。　It's　driftin　in　right　behind　us　no　matter　how　hard　we　push。　I　e　through　drifts　a　few　miles　back　that　was　damn　near　six　feet　through　the　middle。　And　even　if　you　could　make　Sidewinder；　why；　the　road's　closed　from　there　all　the　way　across　to　Buckland；　Utah。　Nope。〃　He　shook　his　head。　〃Never　make　it；　mister。
　　Never　make　it　at　all。〃
　　〃I　have　to　try；〃　Hallorann　said；　calling　on　his　last　reserves　of　patience　to　keep　his　voice　normal。　〃There's　a　boy　up　there…〃
　　〃Boy？　Naw。　The　Overlook　closes　down　at　the　last　end　of　September。　No　percentage　keepin　it　open　longer。　Too　many　shit…storms　like　this。〃
　　〃He's　the　son　of　the　caretaker。　He's　in　trouble。〃
　　〃How　would　you　know　that？〃　His　patience　snapped。
　　〃For　Christ's　sake　are　you　going　to　stand　there　and　flap　y'jaw　at　me　the　rest　of　the　day？　I　know；　I　know！　Now　are　you　going　to　pull　me　back　on　the　road　or　not？〃
　　〃Kind　of　testy；　aren't　you？〃　the　driver　observed；　not　particularly　perturbed。
　　〃Sure；　get　back　in　there。　I　got　a　chain　behind　the　seat。〃　Hallorann　got　back　behind　the　wheel；　beginning　to　shake　with　delayed　reaction　now。　His　hands　were　numbed　almost　clear　through。　He　had　forgotten　to　bring　gloves。
　　The　plow　backed　up　to　the　rear　of　the　Buick；　and　he　saw　the　driver　get　out　with　a　long　coil　of　chain。　Hallorann　opened　the　door　and　shouted：　〃What　can　I　do　to　help？〃
　　〃Stay　out　of　the　way；　is　all；〃　the　driver　shouted　back。　〃This　ain't　gonna　take　a　blink；〃　Which　was　true。　A　shudder　ran　through　the　Buick's　frame　as　the　chain　pulled　tight；　and　a　second　later　it　was　back　on　the　road；　pointed　more　or　less　toward　Estes　Park。　The　plow　driver　walked　up　beside　the　window　and　knocked　on　the　safety　glass。　Hallorann　rolled　down　the　window。
　　〃Thanks；〃　he　said。　〃I'm　sorry　I　shouted　at　you。〃
　　〃I　been　shouted　at　before；〃　the　driver　said　with　a　grin。　〃I　guess　you're　sorta　strung　up。　You　take　these。〃　A　pair　of　bulky　blue　mittens　dropped　into　Hallorann's　lap。　〃You'll　need　em　when　you　go　off　the　road　again；　I　guess。　Cold　out。　You　wear　em　unless　you　want　to　spend　the　rest　of　your　life　pickin　your　nose　with　a　crochetin　hook。　And　you　send　em　back。　My　wife　knitted　em　and　I'm　partial　to　em。　Name　and　address　is　sewed　right　into　the　linin。　I'm　Howard　Cottrell；　by　the　way。　You　just　send　em　back　when　you　don't　need　em　anymore。　And　I　don't　want　to　have　to　go　payin　no　postage　due；　mind。〃
　　〃All　right；〃　Hallorann　said。　〃Thanks。　One　hell　of　a　lot。〃
　　〃You　be　careful。　I'd　take　you　myself；　but　I'm　busy　as　a　cat　in　a　mess　of　guitar　strings。〃
　　〃That's　okay。　Thanks　again。〃　He　started　to　roll　up　the　window；　but　Cottrell　stopped　him。
　　〃When　you　get　to　Sidewinder…if　you　get　to　Sidewinder…you　go　to　Durkin's　Conoco。　It's　right　next　to　the　li'brey。　Can't　miss　it。　You　ask　for　Larry　Durkin。
　　Tell　him　Howie　Cottrell　sent　you　and　you　want　to　rent　one　of　his　snowmobiles。
　　You　mention　my　name　and　show　those　mittens；　you'll　get　the　cut　rate。〃
　　〃Thanks　again；〃　Hallorann　said。
　　Cottrell　nodded。　〃It's　funny。　Ain't　no　way　you　could　know　someone's　in　trouble　up　there　at　the　Overlook　。　。　。　the　phone's　out；　sure　as　hell。　But　I　believe　you。
　　Sometimes　I　get　feelins。〃　Hallorann　nodded。　〃Sometimes　I　do；　too。〃
　　〃Yeah。　I　know　you　do。　But　you　take　care。〃
　　〃I　will。〃　Cottrell　disappeared　into　the　blowing　dimness　with　a　final　wave；　his　engineer　cap　still　mounted　perkily　on　his　head。　Hallorann　got　going　again；　the　chains　flailing　at　the　snowcover　on　the　road；　finally　digging　in　enough　to　start　the　Buick　moving。　Behind　him；　Howard　Cottrell　gave　a　final　good…luck　blast　on　his　plow's　airhorn；　although　it　was　really　unnecessary；　Hallorann　could　feel　him　wishing　him　good　luck。
　　That's　two　shines　in　one　day；　he　thought；　and　that　ought　to　be　some　kind　of　good　omen。　But　he　distrusted　omens；　good　or　bad。　And　meeting　two　people　with　the　shine　in　one　day　（when　he　usually　didn't　run　across　more　than　four　or　five　in　the　course　of　a　year）　might　not　mean　anything。　That　feeling　of　finality；　a　feeling　（like　things　are　all　wrapped　up）　he　could　not　pletely　define　was　still　very　much　with　him。　It　was　The　Buick　wanted　to　skid　sideways　around　a　tight　curve　and　Hallorann　jockeyed　it　carefully；　hardly　daring　to　breathe。　He　turned　on　the　radio　again　and　it　was　Aretha；　and　Aretha　was　just　fine。　He'd　share　his　Hertz　Buick　with　her　any　day。
　　Another　gust　of　wind　struck　the　car；　making　it　rock　and　slip　around。　Hallorann　cursed　it　and　hunched　more　closely　over　the　wheel。　Aretha　finished　her　song　and　then　the　jock　was　on　again；　telling　him　that　driving　today　was　a　good　way　to　get　killed。
　　Hallorann　snapped　the　radio　off。
　　
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　　He　did　make　it　to　Sidewinder；　although　he　was　four　and　a　half　hours　on　the　road　between　Estes　Park　and　there。　By　the　time　he　got　to　the　Upland　Highway　it　was　full　dark；　but　the　snowstorm　showed　no　sign　of　abating。　Twice　he'd　had　to　stop　in　front　of　drifts　that　were　as　high　as　his　car's　hood　and　wait　for　the　plows　to　e　along　and　knock　holes　in　them。　At　one　of　the　drifts　the　plow　had　e　up　on　his　side　of　the　road　and　there　had　been　another　close　call。　The　driver　had　merely　swung　around　his　car；　not　getting　out　to　chew　the　fat；　but　he　did　deliver　one　of　the　two　finger　gestures　that　all　Americans　above　the　age　of　ten　recognize；　and　it　was　not　the　peace　sign。
　　It　seemed　that　as　he　drew　closer　to　the　Overlook；　his　need　to　hurry　became　more　and　more　pulsive。　He　found　himself　glancing　at　his　wristwatch　almost　constantly。　The　hands　seemed　to　be　flying　along。
　　Ten　minutes　after　he　had　turned　onto　the　Upland；　he　passed　two　signs。　The　whooping　wind　had　cleared　both　of　their　snow　pack　so　he　was　able　to　read　them。
　　SIDEWINDER　10；　the　first　said。　The　second：　ROAD　CLOSED　12　MILES　AHEAD　DURING　WINTER　MONTHS。
　　〃Larry　Durkin；〃　Hallorann　muttered　to　himself。　His　dark　face　was　strained　and　tense　in　the　muted　green　glow　of　the　dashboard　instruments。　It　was　ten　after　six。　〃The　Conoco　by　the　library。　Larry…〃　And　that　was　when　it　struck　him　full…force；　the　smell　of　oranges　and　the　thought…force；　heavy　and　hateful；　mu