第3部分最新章节，第5页_The Shining 原版小说免费全文阅读

龙腾小说网>The Shining 原版小说 > 第3部分（第5页）

another　door。　The　iron　radiated　a　stuporous　heat　at　them；　and　for　some　reason

Jack　thought　of　a　large；　dozing　cat。　Watson　jingled　his　keys　and　whistled。

Lost　your　—

（When　he　went　back　into　his　study　and　saw　Danny　standing　there；　wearing

nothing　but　his　training　pants　and　a　grin；　a　slow；　red　cloud　of　rage　had

eclipsed　Jacks　reason。　It　had　seemed　slow　subjectively；　inside　his　head；　but　it

must　have　all　happened　in　less　than　a　minute。　It　only　seemed　slow　the　way　some

dreams　seem　slow。　The　bad　ones。　Every　door　and　drawer　in　his　study　seemed　to

have　been　ransacked　in　the　time　he　had　been　gone。　Closet；　cupboards；　the　sliding

bookcase。　Every　desk　drawer　yanked　out　to　the　stop。　His　manuscript；　the　three…

act　play　he　had　been　slowly　developing　from　a　novelette　he　had　written　seven

years　ago　as　an　under…graduate；　was　scattered　all　over　the　floor。　He　had　been

drinking　a　beer　and　doing　the　Act　II　corrections　when　Wendy　said　the　phone　was

for　him；　and　Danny　had　poured　the　can　of　beer　all　over　the　pages。　Probably　to

see　it　foam。　See　it　foam；　see　it　foam；　the　words　played　over　and　over　in　his

mind　like　a　single　sick　chord　on　an　out…of…tune　piano；　pleting　the　circuit　of

his　rage。　He　stepped　deliberately　toward　his　threeyear…old　son；　who　was　looking

up　at　him　with　that　pleased　grin；　his　pleasure　at　the　job　of　work　so

successfully　and　recently　pleted　in　Daddys　study；　Danny　began　to　say

something　and　that　was　when　he　had　grabbed　Dannys　hand　and　bent　it　to　make　him

drop　the　typewriter　eraser　and　the　mechanical　pencil　he　was　clenching　in　it。

Danny　had　cried　out　a　little　。。。　no　。。。　no　。。。　tell　the　truth　。。。　he

screamed。　It　was　all　hard　to　remember　through　the　fog　of　anger；　the　sick　single

thump　of　that　one　Spike　Jones　chord。　Wendy　somewhere；　asking　what　was　wrong。　Her

voice　faint；　damped　by　the　inner　mist。　This　was　between　the　two　of　them。　He　had

whirled　Danny　around　to　spank　him；　his　big　adult　fingers　digging　into　the　scant

meat　of　the　boys　forearm；　meeting　around　it　in　a　closed　fist；　and　the　snap　of

the　breaking　bone　had　not　been　loud；　not　loud　but　it　had　been　very　loud；　HUGE；

but　not　loud。　Just　enough　of　a　sound　to　slit　through　the　red　fog　like　an　arrow　—

but　instead　of　letting　in　sunlight；　that　sound　let　in　the　dark　clouds　of　shame

and　remorse；　the　terror；　the　agonizing　convulsion　of　the　spirit。　A　clean　sound

with　the　past　on　one　side　of　it　and　all　the　future　on　the　other；　a　sound　like　a

breaking　pencil　lead　or　a　small　piece　of　kindling　when　you　brought　it　down

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