p&c.brimstone-第58部分

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t；　Doctor？〃　
　〃You　are　correct。〃　
　〃That　he　died　of　cancer　is　beyond　a　reasonable　doubt；　then；　Doctor？〃　Pendergast　allowed　a　skeptical　tone　to　tinge　his　voice。　
　Exasperated；　the　pathologist　reached　down；　grabbed　two　halves　of　a　shriveled　brown　lump；　and　shoved　them　in　Pendergast's　face。　〃There　it　is；　Mr。　Pendergast。　If　you　don't　believe　me；　believethis　。　Take　it。　Feel　the　malignancy　of　this　tumor。　As　sure　as　I'm　standing　here；that's　what　killed　Beckmann。〃　
　It　was　a　long；　silent　walk　back　to　the　car。　Pendergast　slipped　behind　the　wheel…today　he'd　driven　himself　to　Yonkers…and　they　exited　the　parking　lot。　As　they　left　the　gray　huddle　of　downtown　behind；　Pendergast　spoke　at　last。　
　〃Beckmann　spoke　to　us　quite　eloquently；　wouldn't　you　say；　Vincent？〃　
　〃Yeah。　And　he　stank；　too。〃　
　〃What　he　said；　however；　was…I　must　confess…something　of　a　surprise。　I　shall　have　to　write　the　good　doctor　a　letter　of　thanks。〃　He　swung　the　wheel　sharply；　and　the　Rolls　turned　onto　Executive　Boulevard；　passing　the　on…ramp　for　the　Saw　Mill　River　Parkway。　
　D'Agosta　looked　over　in　surprise。　〃Aren't　we　heading　back　to　New　York　City？〃　
　Pendergast　shook　his　head。　〃Jeremy　Grove　died　exactly　two　weeks　ago。　Cutforth；　one　week　ago。　We　came　to　Yonkers　to　get　some　answers。　I'm　not　leaving　until　we　have　them。〃　
　　　
　45　
　
　The　bus　inched　through　a　long；　white…tiled　tunnel　in　stop…and…go　traffic　and　emerged　from　an　underpass；　a　long　ramp　amidst　steel　girders　in　semidarkness。　
　New　York　City；thought　the　Reverend　Wayne　P。　Buck。　
　Beyond　the　web　of　steel；　he　could　see　limpid　sunlight；　sooty　tenements；　a　brief　glimpse　of　skyscrapers。　The　bus　lurched　back　into　darkness；　the　brakes　chuffing　as　the　line　of　traffic　stopped　again。　
　Buck　felt　an　indescribable　mix　of　emotions：　excitement；　fear；　destiny；　a　sense　of　confronting　the　unknown。　It　was　the　same　thing　he　had　felt　a　couple　of　years　ago；　the　day　he'd　been　released　from　prison　after　serving　nine　years　for　murder　two。　It　had　been　a　long；　slow　slide　for　Buck：　delinquency；　failed　jobs；　booze；　stealing　cars；　bank　robbery…and　then　the　fateful　day　when　everything　went　wrong　and　he'd　ended　up　shooting　a　convenience　store　clerk。　Killing　a　poor；　innocent　man。　As　the　bus　crept　forward　again；　his　mind　went　back　over　the　arrest；　trial；　sentence　of　twenty…five　to　life；　the　manacled　walk　into　the　bowels　of　the　prison。　A　period　of　darkness；　best　forgotten。　
　And　then；　conversion。　Born　again　in　prison。　Just　as　Jesus　raised　up　the　whore；　Mary　Magdalen；　He　raised　up　the　alcoholic；　the　murderer；　the　man　who　had　been　cast　away　by　all　others；　even　his　own　family。　
　After　his　salvation；　Buck　began　reading　the　Bible：　again　and　again；　cover…to…cover；　Old　Testament　and　New。　He　started　preaching　a　little；　a　few　words　here；　a　helping　hand　there。　He　formed　a　study　group。　Gradually；　he'd　built　up　the　respect　and　trust　of　the　prisoners　who　had　ears　for　the　Good　Word。　He　was　soon　spending　most　of　his　time　assisting　in　the　salvation　of　others。　That；　and　playing　chess。　There　wasn't　much　else　to　do：　magazines　were　showcases　of　materialism；　television　was　worse；　and　books　other　than　the　Bible　seemed　full　of　profanity；　violence；　and　sex。　
　As　parole　grew　near；　Buck　began　to　feel　that　his　ministry　in　prison　was　preparation　for　something　else；　that　God　had　a　greater　purpose　for　him　which　would　be　revealed　in　time。　After　he　got　out；　he　drifted　from　one　small　town　to　another；　mostly　along　the　border　between　California　and　Arizona；　preaching　the　Word；　letting　God　clothe　and　feed　him。　His　reading　began　to　expand：　first　Bunyan；　then　St。　Augustine；　then　Dante　in　translation。　And　always；　always；　he　waited　for　the　call。　
　And　now；　when　he　least　expected　it；　the　call　had　e。　God's　purpose　for　him　stood　revealed。　Who　would　have　thought　that　his　call　would　take　him　to　New　York　City；　the　greatest　concentration　of　spiritual　bankruptcy　and　evil　in　all　America？　Vegas；　L。A。；　and　other　such　places　were　merely　sideshows　to　New　York。　But　that　was　the　beauty　of　doing　God's　will。　Just　as　God　had　sent　St。　Paul　to　Rome…into　the　black　heart　of　paganism…so　had　He　sent　Wayne　P。　Buck　to　New　York。　
　The　bus　stopped；　lurched　again；　everyone's　heads　swaying　in　unison　with　the　movements。　They　were　now　on　some　kind　of　concrete　ramp；　climbing　a　rising　spiral　between　crisscrossed　girders。　It　put　Buck　in　mind　of　Dante's　circles　of　hell。　In　a　moment；　the　bus　plunged　back　into　darkness　and　the　stench　of　diesel；　the　sound　of　air　brakes　hissing　demonically。　It　seemed　they　were　at　the　depot…but　a　depot　such　as　Buck　had　never　seen　or　imagined　in　all　his　born　days。　
　The　bus　ground　to　a　halt。　The　driver　said　something　unintelligible　over　the　public　address　system；　and　there　was　a　great　sigh　of　air　as　the　door　opened。　Buck　exited。　The　others　all　had　to　wait　for　their　baggage；　but　he　was　a　free　man；　without　possessions　or　money；　just　as　it　had　been　six　years　ago　when　he　walked　out　into　the　bright　sunlight　of　Joliet。　
　Without　knowing　where　he　was　going；　he　followed　a　crush　of　people　down　a　series　of　escalators　and　through　an　immense　terminal。　Moments　later　he　found　himself　outdoors；　on　the　pavement　of　a　great　street。　He　stopped　and　looked　around；　feeling　a　rush　of　dread　mingling　with　the　spiritual　vigor。　
　As　I　walked　through　the　wilderness　of　this　world　。　。　。Jesus　had　spent　forty　days　and　nights　in　the　desert　tempted　by　the　devil；　and　verily　this　was　the　desert　of　the　twenty…first　century：　this　wasteland　of　human　souls。　
　He　began　walking；　letting　Jesus　take　him　where　He　would。　Despite　the　crowded　sidewalks；　nobody　seemed　to　notice　him：　the　streams　of　humanity　parted　around　him；　then　flowed　together　again　behind　him；　like　a　river　embracing　a　rock。　He　crossed　a　broad　thoroughfare；　walked　down　a　canyonlike　street　thrown　into　deep　shadow　by　buildings　that　rose　on　both　sides。　Within　a　few　minutes；　he　arrived　at　another　intersection；　even　wider　than　before；　with　roads　ing　in　from　all　sides。　Huge　billboards　and　garish　forty…foot　neon　marquees　announced　he　was　standing　in　Times　Square。　He　looked　skyward。　It　was　a　heady　experience；　surrounded　by　the　mighty　works　of　man；　the　modern…day　glass　and　steel　Towers　of　Babel。　It　was　all　too　easy　to　see　how　one　could　be　seduced　by　such　a　place；　how　quickly　one　could　lose　first　one's　conviction；　then　one's　soul。　He　lowered　his　eyes　again　to　the　traffic；　the　noise；　the　great　rush　and　press　of　humanity。　The　words　of　John　Bunyan　came　to　him　again：You　dwell　in　the　City　of　Destruction：　I　see　it　to　be　so；　and；　dying　there；　sooner　or　later；　you　will　sink　lower　than　the　grave；　into　a　place　that　burns　with　fire　and　brimstone：　be　content；　good　neighbors；　and　go　along　with　me。　
　Lost；　all　lost。　
　But　perhaps　not　all：　here　and　there；　Buck　knew；　walked　those　who　could　still　be　saved；　the　righteous　people　with　the　grace　of　God　in　their　souls。　He　did　not　yet　know　who　they　were；　and　it　was　likely　even　they　didn't　know。Be　content；　good　neighbors；　and　go　along　with　me。　It　was　for　them　he　had　e　to　New　York　City：　these　were　the　ones　he　would　pull　back　from　the　brink。　The　rest　would　be　swept　away　in　the　blink　of　an　eye。　
　For　hours　Buck　walked。　He　could　sense　the　siren…like　call　of　the　city　tugging　at　him：　its　urbane　window　displays；　its　unbelievable　opulence；　its　stretch　limousines。　Buck's　nostrils　filled　with　the　stench　of　rotting　garbage　one　moment；　and　the　next　with　the　scent　of　expensive　perfume　from　some　lynx…eyed　temptress　in　a　tight　dress。　He　was　in　the　belly　of　the　beast；　for　sure。　God　had　entrusted　him　with　a　mission；　God　had　given　him　his　own　forty　days　in　the　desert；　and　he　would　not　fail。　
　He　had　spent　his　last　nickel　on　the　bus　ticket　and　had　not　eaten　at　all　during　the　ride。　Somehow　the　hunger；　the　fasting；　had　sharpened　his　mind。　But　if　he　was　to　do　God's　will；　he　had　to　seek　nourishment　for　his　body。　
　His　wanderings　took　him　to　a　Salvation　Army　soup　kitchen。　He　went　in；　waited　in　line；　sat　silently　with　the　derelicts；　and　ate　a　bowl　of　macaroni　and　cheese　with　a　couple　slices　of　unbuttered　Wonder　bread　and　a　cup　of　coffee。　As　he　ate；　he　slipped　the　shabby　paper　out　of　his　pocket　and　perused　the　soiled　article　yet　again。　It　was　God's　message　to　him；　and　every　time　he　read　it　he　felt　fortified；　refreshed；　determined。　Aft