sk.everythingseventual-第13部分

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's　wedding　ring。　And　in　that　moment　I　saw　her　lying　in　her　coffin　with　the　sun　shining　off　the　wedding　band　and　knew　it　was　true…she　had　been　stung　by　a　bee；　she　had　drowned　in　the　warm；　bread…smelling　kitchen　air；　and　Candy　Bill　had　licked　her　dying　tears　from　her　swollen　cheeks。
　　'Big　fish！'　the　man　in　the　black　suit　cried　in　a　guttural；　greedy　voice。　'Oh；　biiig　fiiish！'
　　He　snatched　it　away　from　me　and　crammed　it　into　a　mouth　that　opened　wider　than　any　human　mouth　ever　could。　Many　years　later；　when　I　was　sixty…five　（I　know　it　was　sixty…five　because　that　was　the　summer　I　retired　from　teaching）；　I　went　to　the　New　England　Aquarium　and　finally　saw　a　shark。　The　mouth　of　the　man　in　the　black　suit　was　like　that　shark's　mouth　when　it　opened；　only　his　gullet　was　blazing　red；　the　same　color　as　his　awful　eyes；　and　I　felt　heat　bake　out　of　it　and　into　my　face；　the　way　you　feel　a　sudden　wave　of　heat　e　pushing　out　of　a　fireplace　when　a　dry　piece　of　wood　catches　alight。　And　I　didn't　imagine　that　heat；　either；　I　know　I　didn't；　because　just　before　he　slid　the　head　of　my　nineteen…inch　brook　trout　between　his　gaping　jaws；　I　saw　the　scales　along　the　sides　of　the　fish　rise　up　and　begin　to　curl　like　bits　of　paper　floating　over　an　open　incinerator。
　　He　slid　the　fish　in　like　a　man　in　a　travelling　show　swallowing　a　sword。　He　didn't　chew；　and　his　blazing　eyes　bulged　out；　as　if　in　effort。　The　fish　went　in　and　went　in；　his　throat　bulged　as　it　slid　down　his　gullet；　and　now　he　began　to　cry　tears　of　his　own　。　。　。　except　his　tears　were　blood；　scarlet　and　thick。
　　I　think　it　was　the　sight　of　those　bloody　tears　that　gave　me　my　body　back。　I　don't　know　why　that　should　have　been；　but　I　think　it　was。　I　bolted　to　my　feet　like　a　jack　released　from　its　box；　turned　with　my　bamboo　pole　still　in　one　hand；　and　fled　up　the　bank；　bending　over　and　tearing　tough　bunches　of　weeds　out　with　my　free　hand　in　an　effort　to　get　up　the　slope　more　quickly。
　　He　made　a　strangled；　furious　noise…the　sound　of　any　man　with　his　mouth　too　full…and　I　looked　back　just　as　I　got　to　the　top。　He　was　ing　after　me；　the　back　of　his　suit…coat　flapping　and　his　thin　gold　watch…chain　flashing　and　winking　in　the　sun。　The　tail　of　the　fish　was　still　protruding　from　his　mouth　and　I　could　smell　the　rest　of　it；　roasting　in　the　oven　of　his　throat。
　　He　reached　for　me；　groping　with　his　talons；　and　I　fled　along　the　top　of　the　bank。　After　a　hundred　yards　or　so　I　found　my　voice　and　went　to　screaming…screaming　in　fear；　of　course；　but　also　screaming　in　grief　for　my　beautiful　dead　mother。
　　He　was　ing　along　after　me。　I　could　hear　snapping　branches　and　whipping　bushes；　but　I　didn't　look　back　again。　I　lowered　my　head；　slitted　my　eyes　against　the　bushes　and　low…hanging　branches　along　the　stream's　bank；　and　ran　as　fast　as　I　could。　And　at　every　step　I　expected　to　feel　his　hands　descending　on　my　shoulders　pulling　me　back　into　a　final　hot　hug。
　　That　didn't　happen。　Some　unknown　length　of　time　later…it　couldn't　have　been　longer　than　five　or　ten　minutes；　I　suppose；　but　it　seemed　like　forever…I　saw　the　bridge　through　layerings　of　leaves　and　firs。　Still　screaming；　but　breathlessly　now；　sounding　like　a　teakettle　which　has　almost　boiled　dry；　I　reached　this　second；　steeper　bank　and　charged　up　to　it。
　　Halfway　to　the　top　I　slipped　to　my　knees；　looked　over　my　shoulder；　and　saw　the　man　in　the　black　suit　almost　at　my　heels；　his　white　face　pulled　into　a　convulsion　of　fury　and　greed。　His　cheeks　were　splattered　with　his　bloody　tears　and　his　shark's　mouth　hung　open　like　a　hinge。
　　'Fisherboy！'　he　snarled；　and　started　up　the　bank　after　me；　grasping　at　my　foot　with　one　long　hand。　I　tore　free；　turned；　and　threw　my　fish…ing　pole　at　him。　He　batted　it　down　easily；　but　it　tangled　his　feet　up　somehow　and　he　went　to　his　knees。　I　didn't　wait　to　see　anymore；　I　turned　and　bolted　to　the　top　of　the　slope。　I　almost　slipped　at　the　very　top；　but　managed　to　grab　one　of　the　support　struts　running　beneath　the　bridge　and　save　myself。
　　'You　can't　get　away；　fisherboy！'　he　cried　from　behind　me。　He　sounded　furious；　but　he　also　sounded　as　if　he　were　laughing。　'It　takes　more　than　a　mouthful　of　trout　to　fill　me　up！'
　　'Leave　me　alone！'　I　screamed　back　at　him。　I　grabbed　the　bridge's　railing　and　threw　myself　over　it　in　a　clumsy　somersault；　filling　my　hands　with　splinters　and　bumping　my　head　so　hard　on　the　boards　when　I　came　down　that　I　saw　stars。　I　rolled　over　onto　my　belly　and　began　crawling。　I　lurched　to　my　feet　just　before　I　got　to　the　end　of　the　bridge；　stumbled　once；　found　my　rhythm；　and　then　began　to　run。　I　ran　as　only　nine…year…old　boys　can　run；　which　is　like　the　wind。　It　felt　as　if　my　feet　only　touched　the　ground　with　every　third　or　fourth　stride；　and　for　all　I　know；　that　may　be　true。　I　ran　straight　up　the　righthand　wheelrut　in　the　road；　ran　until　my　temples　pounded　and　my　eyes　pulsed　in　their　sockets；　ran　until　I　had　a　hot　stitch　in　my　left　side　from　the　bottom　of　my　ribs　to　my　armpit；　ran　until　I　could　taste　blood　and　something　like　metal…shavings　in　the　back　of　my　throat。　When　I　couldn't　run　anymore　I　stumbled　to　a　stop　and　looked　back　over　my　shoulder；　puffing　and　blowing　like　a　windbroke　horse。　I　was　convinced　I　would　see　him　standing　right　there　behind　me　in　his　natty　black　suit；　the　watch…chain　a　glittering　loop　across　his　vest　and　not　a　hair　out　of　place。
　　But　he　was　gone。　The　road　stretching　back　toward　Castle　Stream　between　the　darkly　massed　pines　and　spruces　was　empty。　And　yet　I　sensed　him　somewhere　near　in　those　woods；　watching　me　with　his　grassfire　eyes；　smelling　of　burnt　matches　and　roasted　fish。
　　I　turned　and　began　walking　as　fast　as　I　could；　limping　a　little…I'd　pulled　muscles　in　both　legs；　and　when　I　got　out　of　bed　the　next　morning　I　was　so　sore　I　could　barely　walk。　I　didn't　notice　those　things　then；　though。　I　just　kept　looking　over　my　shoulder；　needing　again　and　again　to　verify　that　the　road　behind　me　was　still　empty。　It　was；　each　time　I　looked；　but　those　backward　glances　seemed　to　increase　my　fear　rather　than　lessening　it。　The　firs　looked　darker；　massier；　and　I　kept　imagining　what　lay　behind　the　trees　which　marched　beside　the　road…long；　tangled　corridors　of　forest；　leg…breaking　deadfalls；　ravines　where　anything　might　live。　Until　that　Saturday　in　1914；　I　had　thought　that　bears　were　the　worst　thing　the　forest　could　hold。
　　Now　I　knew　better。
　　
　　A　mile　or　so　further　up　the　road；　just　beyond　the　place　where　it　came　out　of　the　woods　and　joined　the　Geegan　Flat　Road；　I　saw　my　father　walking　toward　me　and　whistling　'The　Old　Oaken　Bucket。'　He　was　carrying　his　own　rod；　the　one　with　the　fancy　spinning　reel　from　Monkey　Ward。　In　his　other　hand　he　had　his　creel；　the　one　with　the　ribbon　my　mother　had　woven　through　the　handle　back　when　Dan　was　still　alive。　DEDICATED　TO　JESUS；　that　ribbon　said。　I　had　been　walking　but　when　I　saw　him　I　started　to　run　again；　screaming　Dad！　Dad！　Dad！　at　the　top　of　my　lungs　and　staggering　from　side　to　side　on　my　tired；　sprung　legs　like　a　drunken　sailor。　The　expression　of　surprise　on　his　face　when　he　recognized　me　might　have　been　ical　under　other　circumstances；　but　not　under　these。　He　dropped　his　rod　and　creel　into　the　road　without　so　much　as　a　downward　glance　at　them　and　ran　to　me。　It　was　the　fastest　I　ever　saw　my　Dad　run　in　his　life；　when　we　came　together　it　was　a　wonder　the　impact　didn't　knock　us　both　senseless；　and　I　struck　my　face　on　his　belt…buckle　hard　enough　to　start　a　little　nosebleed。　I　didn't　notice　that　until　later；　though。　Right　then　I　only　reached　out　my　arms　and　clutched　him　as　hard　as　I　could。　I　held　on　and　rubbed　my　hot　face　back　and　forth　against　his　belly；　covering　his　old　blue　workshirt　with　blood　and　tears　and　snot。
　　'Gary；　what　is　it？　What　happened？　Are　you　all　right？'
　　'Ma's　dead！'　I　sobbed。　'I　met　a　man　in　the　woods　and　he　told　me！　Ma's　dead！　She　got　stung　by　a　bee　and　it　swelled　her　all　up　just　like　what　happened　to　Dan；　and　she's　dead！　She's　on　the　kitchen　floor　and　Candy　Bill　。　。　。　licked　the　t…t…tears　。　。　。　off　her　。　。　。　off　her　。　。　。'
　　Face　was　the　last　word　I　had　to　say；　but　by　then　my　chest　was　hitching　so　bad　I　couldn't　get　it　out。　My　tears　were　flowing　again；　and　my　Dad's　startled；　frightened　face　had　blurred　into　three　overlapping　ima