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There was a hungry urgency, a breathless demand in her voice, and a fist
closed around his heart as she spoke, a chill ruined his aplomb, his grasp of
the present, so recently returned to him. He wanted to pull out of her, away
from her, as far as he could, and crouch down somewhere in the bedroom in a
patient, fetal security.
But the corner of the room he might have chosen was already occupied. Darkly
occupied by bulk and a sinister presence. The breathing in that corner was
coming laboriously but more regularly than before; it seemed to have become
more steady, pulsing, as they had entered the apartment; and during the parry
and counter and riposte of their encounter it had metronomic ally hurried
itself to a level of even oftenness. Oh, it was taking form, form, form.
Paul sensed it, but discounted the instinct.
Deep breathing, stentorian, labored-but becoming more regular.
Tell me. Tell me you love me, nineteen times, very fast.
I love you I love you I love you I love you, he began rattling them off,
propped on one elbow, counting them on the fingers of his left hand. I love
you I love you I luh-
Why are you counting them? she demanded, coquetishly, in a bizarre grotesque
parody of naiveté.
I don t want to lose track, he answered, brutally. Then he slipped sidewise,
falling onto his back, on Georgette s side of the bed (feeling uncomfortable
there, as though the ridges and whorls of her body were imprinted, making it
lumpy for him, but with the determination not to let this girl lie on that
side).
Go to sleep, he instructed her.
I don t want to go to sleep.
Then go bang your goddam head against the wall, he snapped. Then he was
forcing himself to sleep. Eyes closed, knowing how angry the girl beside him
had become, he commanded sleep to come, and timorously, fawnlike in a deep
foreboding forest, it came, and touched him. So that he began to dream again.
Page 175
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
That dream, again.
In the eye, the right eye. The point of the poker entered, did its damage,
came away foul. Paul flung himself violently from the sight, even as the
crew-cut young man toppled soddenly past him, still alive somehow, crawling,
dying by every bit of flesh through every rotting second. Starlight and
darkness slipped by overhead as Paul whirled, spun, found himself in another
place. A plaza, perhaps...
A crowd, down the smart sleek shop-bordered street-a posh street (where?) in
Beverly Hills, perhaps, glistening and elegant, and seeming almost dazzlingly
clean with rhodium-finished permanence-
growling, coming toward him.
They were masked, caricatured, made up for some weird mardi gras or costume
party or gathering of witches, where real faces would reveal real persons, and
thus provide a hook for their damnation.
Strangers, boiling hurling sweeping down the street toward him in a
chiaroscuro montage of chimerical madness. A vision out of Bosch; a bit of
underdone potato or undigested Dali, hurled forth from a dream-
image by Hogarth; a pantomime out of the innermost circle of Dante s Inferno.
Coming for him. For him.
At last, after all these weeks, the dream had broken its pattern, and the
massed terrors were now coming for him in a body. No longer one at a time,
vis-á-vis in that never-ending succession of pleasant assassins. Now they had
gathered together, grotesque creatures, masked and hungry.
If I can figure out what this means, I ll know, he thought suddenly. In the
midst of the multi-
colored haze of the dream, he knew abruptly, certainly, that if he could just
make some sense from the events unreeling behind his eyes (and he knew it was
a dream, right then), there would be a key to his problems, a solution that
would work for him. So he concentrated.
If I can just understand who they are, what they re doing here, what they want
from me, why they won t let me escape, why they re chasing me, what it takes
to placate them, to get away from them, who I am who I am who I am...then
I ll be free, I ll be whole again, this will be over, this will end, it ll
end..
. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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There was a hungry urgency, a breathless demand in her voice, and a fist
closed around his heart as she spoke, a chill ruined his aplomb, his grasp of
the present, so recently returned to him. He wanted to pull out of her, away
from her, as far as he could, and crouch down somewhere in the bedroom in a
patient, fetal security.
But the corner of the room he might have chosen was already occupied. Darkly
occupied by bulk and a sinister presence. The breathing in that corner was
coming laboriously but more regularly than before; it seemed to have become
more steady, pulsing, as they had entered the apartment; and during the parry
and counter and riposte of their encounter it had metronomic ally hurried
itself to a level of even oftenness. Oh, it was taking form, form, form.
Paul sensed it, but discounted the instinct.
Deep breathing, stentorian, labored-but becoming more regular.
Tell me. Tell me you love me, nineteen times, very fast.
I love you I love you I love you I love you, he began rattling them off,
propped on one elbow, counting them on the fingers of his left hand. I love
you I love you I luh-
Why are you counting them? she demanded, coquetishly, in a bizarre grotesque
parody of naiveté.
I don t want to lose track, he answered, brutally. Then he slipped sidewise,
falling onto his back, on Georgette s side of the bed (feeling uncomfortable
there, as though the ridges and whorls of her body were imprinted, making it
lumpy for him, but with the determination not to let this girl lie on that
side).
Go to sleep, he instructed her.
I don t want to go to sleep.
Then go bang your goddam head against the wall, he snapped. Then he was
forcing himself to sleep. Eyes closed, knowing how angry the girl beside him
had become, he commanded sleep to come, and timorously, fawnlike in a deep
foreboding forest, it came, and touched him. So that he began to dream again.
Page 175
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
That dream, again.
In the eye, the right eye. The point of the poker entered, did its damage,
came away foul. Paul flung himself violently from the sight, even as the
crew-cut young man toppled soddenly past him, still alive somehow, crawling,
dying by every bit of flesh through every rotting second. Starlight and
darkness slipped by overhead as Paul whirled, spun, found himself in another
place. A plaza, perhaps...
A crowd, down the smart sleek shop-bordered street-a posh street (where?) in
Beverly Hills, perhaps, glistening and elegant, and seeming almost dazzlingly
clean with rhodium-finished permanence-
growling, coming toward him.
They were masked, caricatured, made up for some weird mardi gras or costume
party or gathering of witches, where real faces would reveal real persons, and
thus provide a hook for their damnation.
Strangers, boiling hurling sweeping down the street toward him in a
chiaroscuro montage of chimerical madness. A vision out of Bosch; a bit of
underdone potato or undigested Dali, hurled forth from a dream-
image by Hogarth; a pantomime out of the innermost circle of Dante s Inferno.
Coming for him. For him.
At last, after all these weeks, the dream had broken its pattern, and the
massed terrors were now coming for him in a body. No longer one at a time,
vis-á-vis in that never-ending succession of pleasant assassins. Now they had
gathered together, grotesque creatures, masked and hungry.
If I can figure out what this means, I ll know, he thought suddenly. In the
midst of the multi-
colored haze of the dream, he knew abruptly, certainly, that if he could just
make some sense from the events unreeling behind his eyes (and he knew it was
a dream, right then), there would be a key to his problems, a solution that
would work for him. So he concentrated.
If I can just understand who they are, what they re doing here, what they want
from me, why they won t let me escape, why they re chasing me, what it takes
to placate them, to get away from them, who I am who I am who I am...then
I ll be free, I ll be whole again, this will be over, this will end, it ll
end..
. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]