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.This was neither Merrill the lecher norMerrill the robot, but Merrill the animal with its wind up.All at once he was there, in a way he seldom allowedhimself to be there in public.Showing so much of one's true self in public was not, in Pop's estimation, a goodidea.This morning, however, he was far from being in command of himself, and there was no one out to observehim, anyway.If there had been, that person would not have seen Pop the folksy crackerbarrel philosopher or evenPop the sharp trader, but something like the spirit of the man.In that moment of being totally there, Pop lookedlike a rogue dog himself, a stray who has gone feral and now pauses amid a midnight henhouse slaughter,raggedy ears up, head cocked, bloodstreaked teeth showing a little as he hears some sound from the farmer'shouse and thinks of the shotgun with its wide black holes like a figure eight rolled onto its side.The dog knowsnothing of figure eights, but even a dog may recognize the dim shape of eternity if its instincts are honed sharpenough.Across the town square he could see the urine-yellow front of the Emporium Galorium, standing slightly apartfrom its nearest neighbors: the vacant building which had housed The Village Washtub until earlier that year,Nan's Luncheonette, and You Sew and Sew, the dress-and-notions shop run by Evvie Chalmers's great-granddaughter, Polly - a woman of whom we must speak at another time.There were slant-parking spaces in front of all the shops on Lower Main Street, and all of them were empty.except for one, which was just now being filled with a Ford station-wagon Pop recognized.The light throb of itsengine was clearly audible in the morning-still air.Then it cut off, the brakelights went out, and Pop pulled backthe foot which had been in the gutter and prudently withdrew himself to the corner of LaVerdiere's.Here he stoodas still as that dog who has been alerted in the henhouse by some small sound, the sort of sound which might bedisregarded in the killing frenzy of dogs neither so old nor so wise as this one.John Delevan got out from behind the wheel of the station-wagon.The boy got out on the passenger side.Theywent to the door of the Emporium Galorium.The man began to knock impatiently, loud enough so the sound of itcame as clearly to Pop as the sound of the engine had done.Delevan paused, they both listened, and then Delevanstarted in again, not knocking now but hammering at the door, and you didn't have to be a goddam mind-readerto know the man was steamed up.They know, Pop thought.Somehow they know.Damned good thing I smashed the fucking camera.He stood a moment longer, nothing moving except his hooded eyes, and then he slipped around the corner of thedrugstore and into the alley between it and the neighboring bank.He did it so smoothly that a man fifty yearsyounger might have envied the almost effortless agility of the movement.This morning, Pop figured, it might be a little wiser to go back home by backyard express.CHAPTER 16file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20.ing%20-%20A%20note%20On%20The%20sun%20Dog.HTM (98 of 119)7/28/2005 9:22:39 PM The Sun DogWhen there was still no answer, John Delevan went at the door a third time, hammering so hard he made theglass rattle loosely in its rotting putty gums and hurting his hand.It was hurting his hand that made him realizehow angry he was.Not that he felt the anger was in any way unjustified if Merrill had done what Kevin thoughthe had done - and yes, the more he thought about it, the more John Delevan was sure that Kevin was right.But hewas surprised that he hadn't recognized the anger for what it was until just now.This seems to be a morning for learning about myself, he thought, and there was something schoolmarmish inthat.It allowed him to smile and relax a little.Kevin was not smiling, nor did he look relaxed.'It seems like one of three things has happened,' Mr Delevan said to his son.'Merrill's either not up, notanswering the door, or he figured we were getting warm and he's absconded with your camera.' He paused, thenactually laughed.'I guess there's a fourth, too.Maybe he died in his sleep.''He didn't die.' Kevin now stood with his head against the dirty glass of the door he mightily wished he had nevergone through in the first place.He had his hands cupped around his eyes to make blinders, because the sun risingover the east side of the town square ran a harsh glare across the glass.'Look.'Mr Delevan cupped his own hands to the sides of his face and pressed his nose to the glass.They stood there sideby side, backs to the square, looking into the dimness of the Emporium Galorium like the world's most dedicatedwindow-shoppers.'Well,' he said after a few seconds, 'it looks like if he absconded he left his shit behind.''Yeah - but that's not what I mean.Do you see it?''See what?''Hanging on that post.The one by the bureau with all the clocks on it.'And after a moment, Mr Delevan did see it: a Polaroid camera, hanging by its strap from a hook on the post.Hethought he could even see the chipped place, although that might have been his imagination.It's not your imagination.The smile faded off his lips as he realized he was starting to feel what Kevin was feeling: the weird anddistressing certainty that some simple yet terribly dangerous piece of machinery was running.and unlike mostof Pop's clocks, it was running right on time.'Do you think he's just sitting upstairs and waiting for us to go away?' Mr Delevan spoke aloud, but he was reallytalking to himself.The lock on the door looked both new and expensive.but he was willing to bet that if one ofthem -probably Kevin was in better shape - hit the door hard enough, it would rip right through the old wood.Hemused randomly: A lock is only as good as the door you put it in.People never think.Kevin turned his strained face to look at his father.In that moment, John Delevan was as struck by Kevin's facefile:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20.ing%20-%20A%20note%20On%20The%20sun%20Dog.HTM (99 of 119)7/28/2005 9:22:39 PM The Sun Dogas Kevin had been by his not long ago.He thought: I wonder how many fathers get a chance to see what theirsons will look like as men? He won't always look this strained, this tightly drawn - God, I hope not - but this iswhat he will look like.And, Jesus, he's going to be handsome!He, like Kevin, had that one moment in the midst of whatever it was that was going on here, and the moment wasa short one, but he also never forgot; it was always within his mind's reach [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.This was neither Merrill the lecher norMerrill the robot, but Merrill the animal with its wind up.All at once he was there, in a way he seldom allowedhimself to be there in public.Showing so much of one's true self in public was not, in Pop's estimation, a goodidea.This morning, however, he was far from being in command of himself, and there was no one out to observehim, anyway.If there had been, that person would not have seen Pop the folksy crackerbarrel philosopher or evenPop the sharp trader, but something like the spirit of the man.In that moment of being totally there, Pop lookedlike a rogue dog himself, a stray who has gone feral and now pauses amid a midnight henhouse slaughter,raggedy ears up, head cocked, bloodstreaked teeth showing a little as he hears some sound from the farmer'shouse and thinks of the shotgun with its wide black holes like a figure eight rolled onto its side.The dog knowsnothing of figure eights, but even a dog may recognize the dim shape of eternity if its instincts are honed sharpenough.Across the town square he could see the urine-yellow front of the Emporium Galorium, standing slightly apartfrom its nearest neighbors: the vacant building which had housed The Village Washtub until earlier that year,Nan's Luncheonette, and You Sew and Sew, the dress-and-notions shop run by Evvie Chalmers's great-granddaughter, Polly - a woman of whom we must speak at another time.There were slant-parking spaces in front of all the shops on Lower Main Street, and all of them were empty.except for one, which was just now being filled with a Ford station-wagon Pop recognized.The light throb of itsengine was clearly audible in the morning-still air.Then it cut off, the brakelights went out, and Pop pulled backthe foot which had been in the gutter and prudently withdrew himself to the corner of LaVerdiere's.Here he stoodas still as that dog who has been alerted in the henhouse by some small sound, the sort of sound which might bedisregarded in the killing frenzy of dogs neither so old nor so wise as this one.John Delevan got out from behind the wheel of the station-wagon.The boy got out on the passenger side.Theywent to the door of the Emporium Galorium.The man began to knock impatiently, loud enough so the sound of itcame as clearly to Pop as the sound of the engine had done.Delevan paused, they both listened, and then Delevanstarted in again, not knocking now but hammering at the door, and you didn't have to be a goddam mind-readerto know the man was steamed up.They know, Pop thought.Somehow they know.Damned good thing I smashed the fucking camera.He stood a moment longer, nothing moving except his hooded eyes, and then he slipped around the corner of thedrugstore and into the alley between it and the neighboring bank.He did it so smoothly that a man fifty yearsyounger might have envied the almost effortless agility of the movement.This morning, Pop figured, it might be a little wiser to go back home by backyard express.CHAPTER 16file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20.ing%20-%20A%20note%20On%20The%20sun%20Dog.HTM (98 of 119)7/28/2005 9:22:39 PM The Sun DogWhen there was still no answer, John Delevan went at the door a third time, hammering so hard he made theglass rattle loosely in its rotting putty gums and hurting his hand.It was hurting his hand that made him realizehow angry he was.Not that he felt the anger was in any way unjustified if Merrill had done what Kevin thoughthe had done - and yes, the more he thought about it, the more John Delevan was sure that Kevin was right.But hewas surprised that he hadn't recognized the anger for what it was until just now.This seems to be a morning for learning about myself, he thought, and there was something schoolmarmish inthat.It allowed him to smile and relax a little.Kevin was not smiling, nor did he look relaxed.'It seems like one of three things has happened,' Mr Delevan said to his son.'Merrill's either not up, notanswering the door, or he figured we were getting warm and he's absconded with your camera.' He paused, thenactually laughed.'I guess there's a fourth, too.Maybe he died in his sleep.''He didn't die.' Kevin now stood with his head against the dirty glass of the door he mightily wished he had nevergone through in the first place.He had his hands cupped around his eyes to make blinders, because the sun risingover the east side of the town square ran a harsh glare across the glass.'Look.'Mr Delevan cupped his own hands to the sides of his face and pressed his nose to the glass.They stood there sideby side, backs to the square, looking into the dimness of the Emporium Galorium like the world's most dedicatedwindow-shoppers.'Well,' he said after a few seconds, 'it looks like if he absconded he left his shit behind.''Yeah - but that's not what I mean.Do you see it?''See what?''Hanging on that post.The one by the bureau with all the clocks on it.'And after a moment, Mr Delevan did see it: a Polaroid camera, hanging by its strap from a hook on the post.Hethought he could even see the chipped place, although that might have been his imagination.It's not your imagination.The smile faded off his lips as he realized he was starting to feel what Kevin was feeling: the weird anddistressing certainty that some simple yet terribly dangerous piece of machinery was running.and unlike mostof Pop's clocks, it was running right on time.'Do you think he's just sitting upstairs and waiting for us to go away?' Mr Delevan spoke aloud, but he was reallytalking to himself.The lock on the door looked both new and expensive.but he was willing to bet that if one ofthem -probably Kevin was in better shape - hit the door hard enough, it would rip right through the old wood.Hemused randomly: A lock is only as good as the door you put it in.People never think.Kevin turned his strained face to look at his father.In that moment, John Delevan was as struck by Kevin's facefile:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20.ing%20-%20A%20note%20On%20The%20sun%20Dog.HTM (99 of 119)7/28/2005 9:22:39 PM The Sun Dogas Kevin had been by his not long ago.He thought: I wonder how many fathers get a chance to see what theirsons will look like as men? He won't always look this strained, this tightly drawn - God, I hope not - but this iswhat he will look like.And, Jesus, he's going to be handsome!He, like Kevin, had that one moment in the midst of whatever it was that was going on here, and the moment wasa short one, but he also never forgot; it was always within his mind's reach [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]