第67部分(第1/7 頁)

got　up；　snufing　back　blood　and　wiping　his　nose　with　the　back　of　his　hand。　He

crossed　to　the　Colorado　Lounge　and　shoved　through　the　batwing　doors；　making　them

fly　back　and　bang　into　the　walls。

The　place　was　empty　。。。　but　the　bar　was　fully　stocked：　God　be　praised！

Glass　and　the　silver　edging　on　labels　glowed　warmly　in　the　dark。

Once；　he　remembered；　a　very　long　time　ago；　he　had　been　angry　that　there　was　no

backbar　mirror。　Now　he　was　glad。　Looking　into　it　he　would　have　seen　just　another

drunk　fresh　off　the　wagon：　bloody　nose；　untucked　shirt；　hair　rumpled；　cheeks

stubbly。

（This　is　what　it's　like　to　stick　your　whole　hand　into　the　nest。）

Loneliness　surged　over　him　suddenly　and　pletely。　He　cried　out　with　sudden

wretchedness　and　honestly　wished　he　were　dead。　His　wife　and　son　were　upstairs

with　the　door　locked　against　him。　The　others　bad　all　left。　The　party　was　over。

He　lurched　forward　again；　reaching　the　bar。

〃Lloyd；　where　the　fuck　are　you？〃　he　screamed。

There　was　no　answer。　In　this　well…padded

（cell）

room；　his　words　did　not　even　echo　back　to　give　the　illusion　of　pany。

〃Grady！〃

No　answer。　Only　the　bottles；　standing　stiffly　at　attention。

（Roll　over。　Play　dead。　Fetch。　Play　dead。　Sit　up。　Play　dead。）

〃Never　mind；　I'll　do　it　myself；　goddammit。〃

Halfway　over　the　bar　he　lost　his　balance　and　pitched　forward；　hitting　his　head

a　muffled　blow　on　the　floor。　He　got　up　on　his　hands　and　knees；　his　eyeballs

moving　disjointed　from　side　to　side；　fuzzy　muttering　sounds　ing　from　his

mouth。　Then　he　collapsed；　his　face　turned　to　one　side；　breathing　in　harsh

snores。

Outside；　the　wind　whooped　louder；　driving　the