第42部分(第1页)
bit and then slipped back down again。 He twitched a little。 Consciousness; like
the receipts; like autumn aspen leaves; seesawed lazily downward。
That had been the first phase of his relationship with his father; and as it
was drawing to its end he had bee aware that Becky and his brothers; all of
them older; hated the father and that their mother; a nondescript woman who
rarely spoke above a mutter; only suffered him because her Catholic upbringing
said that she must。 In those days it had not seemed strange to Jack that the
father won all his arguments with his children by use of his fists; and it had
not seemed strange that his own love should go hand…in…hand with his fear: fear
of the elevator game which might end in a splintering crash on any given night;
fear that his fathers bearish good humor on his day off might suddenly change
to boarish bellowing and the smack of his 〃good right hand〃; and sometimes; he
remembered; he had even been afraid that his fathers shadow might fall over him
while he was at play。 It was near the end of this phase that he began to notice
that Brett never brought his dates home; or Mike and Becky their chums。
Love began to curdle at nine; when his father put his mother into the hospital
with his cane。 He had begun to carry the cane a year earlier; when a car
accident had left him lame。 After that he was never without it; long and black
and thick and gold…headed。 Now; dozing; Jacks body twitched in a remembered
cringe at the sound it made in the air; a murderous swish; and its heavy crack
against the wall 。。。 or against flesh。 He had beaten their mother for no good
reason at all; suddenly and without warning。 They had been at the supper table。
The cane had been standing by his chair。 It was a Sunday night; the end of a
three…day weekend for Daddy; a weekend which he had boozed away in his usual
inimitable style。 Roast chicken。 Peas。 Mashed potatoes。 Daddy at the head of the
table; his plate heaped high; snoozing or nearly snoozing。 His mother passing
plates。 And suddenly Daddy had been wide awake; his eyes set deeply into their
fat eyesockets; glittering with a kind of stupid; evil petulance。 They flickered
from one member of the family to the next; and the vein in the center of his
forehead was standing out prominently; always a bad sign。 One of his large
freckled hands had dropped to the gold knob of his cane; caressing it。 He said
something about coffee ˉ to this day Jack was sure it had been 〃coffee〃 that his
father said。 Momma had opened her mouth to answer and then the cane was
whickering through the air; smashing against her face。 Blood spurted from her
nose。 Becky screamed。 Mommas spectacles dropped into her gravy。 The cane had
been drawn back; had e down again; this time on top of her head; splitting
the scalp。 Momma had dropped to the floor。 He had been out of his chair and
around to where she lay dazed on the carpet; brandishing the cane; moving with a