JК
Desperation :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 398 из 422He had been a good boy over the last few months, but a lot of chickens (not to mention some roast ducks and a few caviar—stuffed quail)were now coming home to roost nevertheless.
Yet he felt good. Everything was simple now. That was sort of wonderful.
David was in the lead, his father behind him. Steve and Cynthia next. Johnny and Mary Jackson brought up the rear.
“Why have you still got that motorcycle helmet.” she asked.
Johnny grinned. She reminded him of Terry, in an odd way. Terry as she had been back in the old days. He held the helmet up, stuck on his hand like a puppet. “Ask not for whom the Bell tolls,” he said. “It tolls for thee, thou storied honeydew.”
She gave a small, breathless laugh. “You’re nuts.”
If it had been forty yards uphill instead of twenty, Johnny wasn’t sure he could have made it. As it was, the pounding of his heart had become so rapid it seemed like one steady thrum in his chest by the time David reached the ragged tunnel opening. And his thighs felt like spaghetti.
Don’t weaken now, he told himself. You’re into the final straightaway.
He made himself move a little faster, suddenly afraid that David might simply turn and go into the shaft before he could get there, It was possible, too. Steve thought the boss knew what was going on, but in fact the boss knew precious little. He was being handed the script a page ahead of the rest of them, that was all.
But David waited, and soon they were all clustered on the slope in front of the opening.
A dank smell issued from it, chilly and charred at the same time. And there was a sound Johnny associated with elevator shafts: a faint, windy whisper.
“We ought to pray,” David said, sounding timid. He held his hands out to either side of him.
His father took one of his hands. Steve put down the.30-.06 and took the other. Mary took Ralph’s, Cynthia took Steve’s. Johnny stepped between the two women, dropped the helmet between his boots, and the circle was complete.
They stood in the darkness of China Pit, smelling the dank exhaled breath of the earth, listening to that faint roar, looking at David Carver, who had brought them here.
“Whose father.” David asked them.
“Our father,” Johnny said, stepping easily onto the road of the old prayer. as if he had never been away. “Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come-”
The others joined in, Cynthia, the minister’s daughter, first, Mary last.
“-thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Yet he felt good. Everything was simple now. That was sort of wonderful.
David was in the lead, his father behind him. Steve and Cynthia next. Johnny and Mary Jackson brought up the rear.
“Why have you still got that motorcycle helmet.” she asked.
Johnny grinned. She reminded him of Terry, in an odd way. Terry as she had been back in the old days. He held the helmet up, stuck on his hand like a puppet. “Ask not for whom the Bell tolls,” he said. “It tolls for thee, thou storied honeydew.”
She gave a small, breathless laugh. “You’re nuts.”
If it had been forty yards uphill instead of twenty, Johnny wasn’t sure he could have made it. As it was, the pounding of his heart had become so rapid it seemed like one steady thrum in his chest by the time David reached the ragged tunnel opening. And his thighs felt like spaghetti.
Don’t weaken now, he told himself. You’re into the final straightaway.
He made himself move a little faster, suddenly afraid that David might simply turn and go into the shaft before he could get there, It was possible, too. Steve thought the boss knew what was going on, but in fact the boss knew precious little. He was being handed the script a page ahead of the rest of them, that was all.
But David waited, and soon they were all clustered on the slope in front of the opening.
A dank smell issued from it, chilly and charred at the same time. And there was a sound Johnny associated with elevator shafts: a faint, windy whisper.
“We ought to pray,” David said, sounding timid. He held his hands out to either side of him.
His father took one of his hands. Steve put down the.30-.06 and took the other. Mary took Ralph’s, Cynthia took Steve’s. Johnny stepped between the two women, dropped the helmet between his boots, and the circle was complete.
They stood in the darkness of China Pit, smelling the dank exhaled breath of the earth, listening to that faint roar, looking at David Carver, who had brought them here.
“Whose father.” David asked them.
“Our father,” Johnny said, stepping easily onto the road of the old prayer. as if he had never been away. “Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come-”
The others joined in, Cynthia, the minister’s daughter, first, Mary last.
“-thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.