cb.coldheart canyon-第24部分

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　 〃Maybe　they　like　it　here；〃　Todd　observed。
　 〃Yeah；　I　guess。〃
　 〃There's　no　people　to　fuck　with　them。〃
　 〃Except　us。〃
　 〃We　won't　be　here　long；〃　Todd　said。
　 〃You　don't　sound　too　happy　about　that。〃
　 〃Well　I　guess　I　could　get　used　to　it　here。〃
　 〃Have　you　been　up　on　the　ridge　yet？〃
　 〃No。　I　haven't　had　the　energy。〃
　 〃You　should　go　up　there。　Take　a　look。　There's　quite　a　view。〃
　 The　exchange；　brief　as　it　was；　put　the　thought　of　a　trip　up　the　hill　into　Todd's　head。　He　needed　to　start　exercising　again；　as　Maxine　had　pointed　out；　or　he　was　going　to　find　that　his　face　was　all　nicely　healed　up　and　his　body　had　gone　to　fat。　He　didn't　believe　for　a　minute　that　his　face　was　anywhere　near　being　healed；　but　he　took　her　point。　He　was　drinking　too　much　and　eating　too　many　Elvis　Midnight　Specials　（peanut　butter；　jelly；　crispy　bacon　and　sliced　banana　on　Wonder　Bread　sandwiches；　deep　fried　in　butter）　for　the　good　of　his　waistline。　His　pants　were　feeling　tight；　and　his　ass…when　he　glimpsed　it　in　the　mirror…was　looking　fleshy。
　 In　a　while　he'd　have　to　get　back　to　some　serious　training：　start　running　every　morning；　maybe　have　his　gym　equipment　brought　over　from　the　Bel　Air　house　and　installed　in　the　guest…house。　But　in　the　meantime　he'd　ease　back　into　the　swing　of　things　with　a　few　exploratory　walks：　one　of　which；　he　promised　himself；　would　be　up　the　top　of　the　hill；　to　see　what　the　view　was　like　when　you　got　to　the　end　of　the　road。
　
　 Burrows　and　Nurse　Karyn　came　every　other　day　to　change　the　dressings　and　assess　the　condition　of　his　face。　Though　Burrows　claimed　that　the　healing　process　was　going　well；　Burrows　claimed；　his　manner　remained　subdued　and　cautious：　it　was　clear　that　the　whole　sorry　business　had　taken　a　toll　upon　his　confidence。　His　sun…bed　tan　could　not　conceal　a　certain　sickliness　in　his　pallor；　and　the　skin　around　his　eyes　and　mouth；　taut　from　a　series　of　tucks　and　tightenings；　had　an　unnatural　rigidity　to　it；　like　a　teak　mask　under　which　another；　more　fragile　man；　was　trapped。　Superficially；　he　remained　unfailingly　optimistic　about　Todd's　prognosis；　he　was　certain　there　would　be　no　permanent　scarring。　Indeed　he　was　even　willing　to　chance　the　opinion　that　things　were　going　to　work　out　'as　planned'；　and　that　Todd　was　going　to　emerge　from　the　whole　experience　looking　ten　years　younger。
　 〃So　how　long　is　it　going　to　be　before　I　can　take　off　the　bandages？〃
　 〃Another　week；　I'd　say。〃
　 〃And　after　that。。。how　long　before　I'm　back　to　normal　again？〃
　 〃I　don't　want　to　make　any　promises；〃　Burrows　said；　〃but　inside　a　month。　Is　there　some　great　urgency　here？〃
　 〃Yeah；　I　want　people　to　see　me。　I　want　them　to　know　I'm　not　dead。〃
　 〃Surely　nobody　believes　that；〃　Burrows　said。
　 Todd　summoned　Marco。　〃Where　are　those　tabloids　you　brought　in？〃　he　asked。　〃The　doctor's　not　been　reading　the　trash　in　his　waiting…room　recently。〃
　 Marco　left　the　room　and　reappeared　with　five　magazines；　dropping　them　on　the　table　beside　Burrows。　The　top　one　had　a　blurred；　black　and　white　photograph　of　a　burial　procession；　obviously　taken　with　an　extremely　long…distance　lens。　The　headline　read：　Superstar　Todd　Pickett　Buried　in　Secret　Ceremony。　The　magazine　beneath　had　an　unsmiling　picture　of　Todd's　ex…girlfriend；　Wilhemina　Bosch；　and　announced；　as　though　from　her　grieving　lips：　〃I　never　even　had　a　chance　to　tell　him　good…bye。〃　And　underneath；　a　third　magazine　boasted　that　it　contained　Todd　Pickett's　Last　Words。　〃I　saw　Christ　standing　at　his　death…bed；　claims　nurse。〃　Burrows　didn't　bother　with　the　others。
　 〃Who　starts　bullshit　like　this？〃
　 〃You　tell　me；〃　Todd　replied。
　 〃I　hope　you're　not　implying　that　it　was　somebody　in　my　surgery；　because　I　assure　you　we've　been　vigorous…〃
　 〃Yeah；　yeah；　yeah；〃　Todd　said。　〃You're　not　responsible　for　anything。　I　know。　See？　I　finally　got　smart。　I　read　the　small　print。〃
　 〃Frankly；　I　don't　see　where　your　problem　lies。　All　you'd　have　to　do　is　make　one　call；　tell　them　who　you　are；　and　the　rumors　would　be　laid　to　rest。〃
　 〃And　what　would　he　say？〃　Marco　asked。
　 〃It's　obvious。　He'd　say：　I'm　Todd　Pickett　and　I'm　alive　and　well；　thank　you　very　much。〃
　 〃And　then　what？〃　Todd　said。　〃When　they　want　to　e　to　take　a　photograph　to　confirm　that　everything's　fine？　Or　they　want　an　interview；　face…to…face。　Face。　To。　Face。　With　this？〃
　 His　face　was　presently　unbandaged。　He　stood　up　and　went　to　the　mirror。　〃I　look　like　I　went　ten　rounds　with　a　heavyweight。〃
　 〃I　can　only　assure　you　that　the　swelling　is　definitely　going　down。　It's　just　going　to　take　time。　And　the　quality　of　the　new　epidermis　is　first…rate。　I　believe　you're　going　to　be　very　pleased　at　the　end　of　everything。〃
　 Todd　said　nothing　for　a　moment。　Then；　with　a　kind　of　simple　sincerity　he'd　seldom…if　ever…achieved　in　front　of　a　camera；　he　turned　and　said　to　Burrows：　〃You　know　what　I　wish？〃　Burrows　shook　his　head。　〃I　wish　I'd　never　laid　eyes　on　you；　you　dickhead。〃
　
　
　NINE
　 Tammy　knew　only　a　very　few　people　in　Los　Angeles；　all　of　them　members　of　the　Appreciation　Society；　but　she　decided　not　to　alert　anybody　to　the　fact　that　she'd　e　into　town。　They'd　all　want　to　help　her　with　her　investigations；　and　this　was　something　she　preferred　to　do　alone；　at　least　at　the　outset。
　 She　checked　herself　into　the　little　hotel　on　Wilshire　Boulevard；　within　a　few　hundred　yards　of　the　Westwood　Memorial　Park；　where　a　host　of　stars　and　almost…stars　were　buried　or　interred。　She'd　made　her　rounds　of　the　famous　who　rested　there　on　her　last　visit。　Donna　Reed　and　Natalie　Wood　were　amongst　them；　so　was　Darryl　F。　Zanuck　and　Oscar　Levant。　But　the　Park's　real　claim　to　fame…the　presence　that　brought　sightseers　from　all　over　the　world…was　Marilyn　Monroe；　who　was　laid　to　rest　in　a　bland　concrete　crypt　distinguished　only　by　the　number　of　floral　tributes　it　attracted。　The　crypt　beside　it　was　still　empty；　kept…so　it　was　said…for　the　mortal　remains　of　Hugh　Heffner。
　 Tammy　had　not　much　enjoyed　her　visit　to　the　Park。　In　fact　it　had　depressed　her　a　little。　She　certainly　had　no　intention　of　going　back　this　time。　It　was　the　living　she　was　concerned　with　on　this　visit；　not　the　dead。
　 When　she　was　settled　in　she　called　Arnie；　gave　him　her　room　number　in　case　of　emergency；　and　told　him　she'd　be　back　in　a　couple　of　days　at　most。　She　heard　him　pop　a　can　of　beer　while　she　was　talking…not；　to　judge　by　his　slightly　slurred　speech；　his　first　of　the　night。　He'd　be　fine　without　her；　she　thought。　Probably　happier。
　 She　ordered　up　some　room…service　food；　and　then　sat　plotting　how　she'd　proceed　the　next　day。　Her　first　line　of　enquiry　would　be　the　most　direct：　she'd　go　up　to　Todd's　home　in　Bel　Air　and　try　to　find　out　whether　or　not　he　was　there。　His　address　was　no　secret。　In　fact　she　had　pictures　of　every　room　in　the　house；　including　the　ensuite　bathroom　with　the　sunken　tub；　taken　by　the　realtor　when　the　house　was　still　on　the　market；　though　of　course　it　had　been　remodeled　since　and　its　layout　had　probably　changed。　Of　course；　her　chances　of　even　getting　to　the　front　door…much　less　of　seeing　him…were　remote。　But　it　would　be　foolish　of　her　not　to　try。　Maybe　she'd　catch　him　going　out　for　a　jog；　or　spot　him　standing　at　a　window。　Then　all　her　concerns　would　be　laid　to　rest　and　she　would　be　able　to　go　back　to　Sacramento　happy；　knowing　that　he　was　alive　and　well。
　
　 She'd　hired　a　car　at　the　airport；　and　had　planned　to　drive　up　to　Bel　Air　the　evening　she　arrived；　but　after　the　hassles　of　the　delayed　flight　she　was　simply　too　tired；　so　she　went　to　bed　at　ten　and　rose　bright　and　early。　The　room　service　offered　at　the　hotel　was　nothing　special…and　she　liked　a　good　breakfast…so　she　crossed　over　Wilshire　and　went　into　Westwood　Village；　found　herself　a　diner；　and　ate　heartily：　scrambled　eggs；　bacon；　hash　browns；　white　toast　and　coffee。　While　she　ate　she　skimmed　People　and　USA　Today。　Both　had　pieces　about　the　uping　Oscars；　which　were　now　only　three　days　away。　Todd　had　never　won　an　Oscar　（which　Tammy　believed　to　be　absolute　proof　of　the　corruption　of　the　Academy）　but　he'd　been　nominated　four　years　ago　for　Lost　Rites；　one　of　his　less　popular　pictures。　She'd　been　very　proud　of　him：　he'd　done　fine　work　in　the　movie　and　she'd　thought　he　had　a　crack　at　winning。　Watching　the　ceremony　had　been　nearly　impossible。　Her　heart　had　hammered　so　hard　as　Susan　Sarandon；　who'd　been　presenting　the　award；　had　fumbled　with　the　envelope；　Tammy　thought　she　was　going　to　pass　out　from　anticipation　before　the　winner　was　even　named。　And　then　of　course；　Sarandon　had　named　the　winner；　and　it　hadn't　been　Todd。　The　cameras　had　been　on　him　throughout　the　whole　envelope…fumbling　routine；　and　there'd　been　a　moment　between　the　naming　of　the　winner　and　his　applauding　when　his　disappointment　had　been　perfectly　clear：　at　least　to　someone　who　knew　the　language　of　his　face　as　well　as　Tammy。
　 She'd　only　seen　one　of　the　movies　in　this　year's　race；　and　she'd　only　gone　to　that　because　Tom　Hanks　was　in　it；　and　he　seemed　such　a　likable　man。　She　skimmed　the　articles　rather　than　reading　them；　hoping　maybe　there'd　be　some　reassuring　mention　of　Todd。　But　there　was　nothing。
　 Breakfast　finished；　she　walked　back　to　the　hotel；　left　a　message　for　Arnie　at　the　airport；　just　to　say　all　was　fine；　and　then　picked　up　a　map　at　the　front　desk　in　case　her　sense　of　direction　failed　her。　Thus　prepared；　she　set　off　for　Todd's　home。
　 It　took　twenty…five　minutes　driving　through　the　heavy　morning　traffic　to　get　up　into　the　narrow；　winding　streets　of　Bel　Air。　There　wasn't　much　to　see；　most　of　the　mansions　were　hidden　behind　high　walls；　bristling　with　spikes　and　video　cameras。　But　there　was　no　doubting　the　fact　that　she　was　in　a　very　select　neighborhood。　The　cars　parked　on　the　narrow　thoroughfares　were　all　expensive　（in　one　spot　she　maneuvered　past　a　coffee…and…cream　Rolls　Royce　on　the　left　and　a　red　Porsche　on　the　right）。　On　another　street　she　encountered　some　glamorously…hooded　superstar　out　running；　a　black　limo　following　close　behind；　presumably　carrying　the　bottled　water　and　the　granola　bars。
　 What　must　it　be　like；　she　wondered　as　she　drove；　to　be　so　pampered　and　cosseted？　To　know　that　if　there　was　no　toilet　paper　in　the　house；　no　ice　cream　in　the　freezer；　then　it　was　somebody　else's　damn　job　to　go　and　get　it。　Never　to　have　to　worry　about　taxes　or　mortgage　payments。　Never　to　wake　up　at　three　in　the　morning　and　think：　Who　am　I？　I'm　nobody。　If　I　died　tomorrow　nobody　would　ready　notice；　nobody　would　really　care。
　 Of　course　she　knew　there　were　plenty　of　responsibilities　that　came　along　with　all　this　wealth　and　fort。　And　they　took　their　toll　on　some　folks：　it　drove　them　to　drink　and　drugs　and　adultery。　It　was　hard　to　be　idolized　and　scrutinized。　But　she'd　never　had　much　sympathy　for　the　plainers。　So；　people　paid　you　millions　to　see　you　smile；　and　it　made　you　feel　inadequate。　Tough　shit。
　 She　found　Todd's　house　readily　enough。　There　was　no　number；　but　she　recognized　the　castellated　wall　and　the　square　lamps　on　either　side　of　the　gate。　She　drove　on　up　the　street；　found　a　parking　spot；　and　wandered　back　towards　the　house；　trying　to　look　as　inconspicuous　as　any　two　hundred　and　three…pound　woman　in　orange　polyester　pants　could。　When　she　reached　the　gates　she　saw　that　there　was　a　car　parked　in　the　driveway；　twenty　yards　inside　the　gates；　its　trunk　open。