dk.solesurvivor-第15部分

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　　As　Bob　Vadance　sat　on　the　sofa　beside　his　wife；　Clarise　explained　that　Joe's　family　had　perished　in　the　crash。　To　Joe；　she　said；　'It　was　Bob's　dad　we　lost；　ing　back　from　a　business　trip。'
　　Of　all　the　things　that　they　might　have　said　to　one　another；　they　established　their　bond　by　talking　about　how　they　had　first　heard　the　dreadful　news　out　of　Colorado。
　　Clarise　and　Bob；　a　fighter　pilot　assigned　to　Miramar　Naval　Air　Station　north　of　San　Diego；　had　been　out　to　dinner　with　two　other　pilots　and　their　wives。　They　were　at　a　cosy　Italian　restaurant　and；　after　dinner；　moved　into　the　bar；　where　there　was　a　television　set。　The　baseball　game　was　interrupted　for　a　bulletin　about　Nationwide　Flight　353。　Bob　had　known　his　dad　was　flying　that　night　from　New　York　to　L。A。　and　that　he　often　travelled　Nationwide；　but　he　hadn't　known　the　flight　number。　Using　a　bar　phone　to　call　Nationwide　at　LAX；　he　was　quickly　connected　with　a　public…relations　officer　who　confirmed　that　Thomas　Lee　Vadance　was　on　the　passenger　manifest。　Bob　and　Clarise　had　driven　from　Miramar　to　Culver　City　in　record　time；　arriving　shortly　after　eleven　o'clock。　They　didn't　call　Nora；　Bob's　mother；　because　they　didn't　know　if　she　had　heard。　If　she　was　still　unaware　of　the　news；　they　wanted　to　tell　her　in　person　rather　than　over　the　phone。　When　they　arrived　just　after　midnight；　the　house　was　brightly　lighted；　the　front　door　unlocked。　Nora　was　in　the　kitchen；　making　corn　chowder；　a　big　pot　of　corn　chowder；　because　Tom　loved　her　corn　chowder；　and　she　was　baking　chocolate…chip　cookies　with　pecans　because　Bob　loved　those　cookies　too。　She　knew　about　the　crash；　knew　that　he　was　dead　out　there　just　east　of　the　Rockies；　but　she　needed　to　be　doing　something　for　him。　They　had　been　married　when　Nora　was　eighteen　and　Tom　was　twenty；　had　been　married　for　thirty…five　years；　and　she　had　needed　to　be　doing　something　for　him。
　　'In　my　case；　I　didn't　know　until　I　got　to　the　airport　to　pick　them　up；'　Joe　said。　'They'd　been　to　Virginia　to　visit　Michelle's　folks；　and　then　three　days　in　New　York　so　the　girls　could　meet　their　Aunt　Delia　for　the　first　time。　I　arrived　early；　of　course；　and　first　thing　when　I　went　into　the　terminal；　I　checked　the　monitors　to　see　if　their　flight　was　on　time。　It　was　still　shown　as　on　time；　but　when　I　went　up　to　the　gate　where　it　was　supposed　to　arrive；　airline　personnel　were　greeting　people　as　they　approached　the　area；　talking　to　them　in　low　voices；　leading　some　of　them　away　to　a　private　lounge。　This　young　man　came　up　to　me；　and　before　he　opened　his　mouth；　I　knew　what　he　was　going　to　say。　I　wouldn't　let　him　talk。　I　said；　〃No；　don't　say　it；　don't　you　dare　say　it。〃　When　he　tried　to　speak　anyway；　I　turned　away　from　him；　and　when　he　put　a　hand　on　my　arm；　I　knocked　it　off。　I　might　have　punched　him　to　keep　him　from　talking；　except　by　then　there　were　three　of　them；　him　and　two　women；　around　me；　close　around　me。　It　was　as　if　I　didn't　want　to　be　told　because　being　told　was　what　made　it　real；　that　it　wouldn't　be　real；　you　know；　wouldn't　actually　have　happened；　if　they　didn't　say　it。'
　　They　were　all　silent；　listening　to　the　remembered　voices　of　last　year；　the　voices　of　strangers　with　terrible　news。
　　'Mom　took　it　so　hard　for　a　long　time；'　Clarise　said　at　last；　speaking　of　her　mother…in…law　as　fondly　as　if　Nora　had　been　her　own　mother。　'She　was　only　fifty…three；　but　she　really　didn't　want　to　go　on　without　Tom。　They　were…'
　　'…so　close；'　Bob　finished。　'But　then　last　week　when　we　came　to　visit；　she　was　way　up；　so　much　better。　She'd　been　so　bitter；　depressed　and　bitter；　but　now　she　was　full　of　life　again。　She'd　always　been　cheerful　before　the　crash；　a　real…'
　　'people　person；　so　outgoing；'　Clarise　continued　for　him；　as　if　their　thoughts　ran　always　on　precisely　the　same　track。　'And　suddenly　here　again　last　week　was　the　woman　we'd　always　known　and　missed　for　the　past　year。'
　　Dread　washed　through　Joe　when　he　realized　they　were　speaking　of　Nora　Vadance　as　one　speaks　of　the　dead。　'What's　happened？'
　　From　a　pocket　of　her　khaki　shorts；　Clarise　had　taken　a　Kleenex。　She　was　blotting　her　eyes。　'Last　week　she　said　she　knew　now　that　Tom　wasn't　gone　forever；　that　no　one　was　ever　gone　forever。　She　seemed　so　happy。　She　was…'
　　'…radiant；'　Bob　said；　taking　his　wife's　hand　in　his。　'Joe；　we　don't　know　why　really；　with　the　depression　gone　and　her　being　so　full　of　plans　for　the　first　time　in　a　year。　。　。　but　four　days　ago；　my　mom　she　mitted　suicide。'
　　
　　The　funeral　had　been　held　the　previous　day。　Bob　and　Clarise　didn't　live　here。　They　were　staying　only　through　Tuesday；　packing　Nora's　clothes　and　personal　effects　for　distribution　to　relatives　and　the　Salvation　Army　Thrift　Shop。
　　'It's　so　hard；'　Clarise　said；　unrolling　and　then　rerolling　the　right　sleeve　on　her　white　shirt　as　she　talked。　'She　was　such　a　sweet　person。'
　　'I　shouldn't　be　here　right　now；'　Joe　said；　getting　up　from　the　armchair。　'This　isn't　a　good　time。'
　　Rising　quickly；　extending　one　hand　almost　pleadingly；　Bob　Vadance　said；　'No；　please；　sit　down。　Please。　We　need　a　break　from　the　sorting　。　。　。　the　packing。　Talking　to　you　。　。　。　well　。　。
　　He　shrugged。　He　was　all　long　arms　and　legs；　graceful　before　but　not　now。　'We　all　know　what　it's　like。　It's　easier　because…'
　　'…because　we　all　know　what　it's　like；'　Clarise　finished。
　　After　a　hesitation；　Joe　sat　in　the　armchair　again。　'I　only　have　a　few　questions。　。　。　and　maybe　only　your　mother　could've　answered　them。'
　　Having　readjusted　her　right　sleeve；　Clarise　unrolled　and　then　rerolled　the　left。　She　needed　to　be　doing　something　while　she　talked。　Maybe　she　was　afraid　that　her　unoccupied　hands　would　encourage　her　to　express　the　grief　that　she　was　striving　to　control
　　…　perhaps　by　covering　her　face；　by　twisting　and　pulling　her　hair；　or　by　curling　into　fists　and　striking　something。　'Joe　。　。　。　this　heat　would　you　like　something　cold　to　drink？'
　　'No　thanks。　Quick　is　better；　and　I'll　go。　What　I　wanted　to　ask　your　mother　was　if　she'd　been　visited　by　anyone　recently。　By　a　woman　who　calls　herself　Rose。'
　　Bob　and　Clarise　exchanged　a　glance；　and　Bob　said；　'Would　this　be　a　black　woman？'
　　A　quiver　passed　through　Joe。　'Yes。　Small；　about　five　two；　but　with。　。　。　real　presence。'
　　'Mom　wouldn't　say　much　about　her；'　Clarise　said；　'but　this　Rose　came　once；　and　they　talked；　and　it　seemed　as　if　something　she　told　Mom　was　what　made　all　the　difference。　We　got　the　idea　she　was　some　sort　of…'
　　'…spiritual　advisor　or　something；'　Bob　finished。　'At　first；　we　didn't　like　the　sound　of　it；　thought　it　might　be　someone　taking　advantage　of　Mom；　her　being　so　down　and　vulnerable。　We　thought　maybe　this　was　some　New…Age　crazy　or…'
　　'…a　con　artist；'　Clarise　continued；　now　leaning　forward　from　the　sofa　to　straighten　the　silk　flowers　in　an　arrangement　on　the　coffee　table。　'Someone　trying　to　rip　her　off　or　just　mess　with　her　mind。'
　　'But　when　she　talked　about　Rose；　she　was　so…'
　　'…full　of　peace。　It　didn't　seem　this　could　be　bad；　not　when　it　made　Mom　feel　so　much　better。　Anyway…'
　　'…she　said　this　woman　wasn't　ing　back；'　Bob　finished。　'Mom　said；　thanks　to　Rose；　she　knew　Dad　was　somewhere　safe。　He　hadn't　just　died　and　that　was　the　end。　He　was　somewhere　safe　and　fine。'
　　'She　wouldn't　tell　us　how　she'd　e　around　to　this　faith；　when　she'd　never　even　been　a　churchgoer　before；'　Clarise　added。　'Wouldn't　say　who　Rose　was　or　what　Rose　had　told　her。'
　　'Wouldn't　tell　us　much　at　all　about　the　woman；'　Bob　confirmed。　'Just　that　it　had　to　be　a　secret　now；　for　a　little　while；　but　that　eventually…'
　　'…everyone　would　know。'
　　'Eventually　everyone　would　know　what？'　Joe　asked。
　　'That　Dad　was　somewhere　safe；　I　guess；　somewhere　safe　and　fine。'
　　'No；'　Clarise　said；　finishing　with　the　silk　flowers；　sitting　back　on　the　sofa；　clasping　her　hands　in　her　lap；　'I　think　she　meant　more　than　that。　I　think　she　meant　eventually　everyone　would　know　that　none　of　us　ever　just　dies；　that　we。　。　。　go　on　somewhere　safe。'
　　Bob　sighed。　'I'll　be　frank　with　you；　Joe。　It　made　us　a　little　nervous；　hearing　this　superstitious　stuff　ing　from　my　mother；　who　was　always　so　down…to…earth。　But　it　made　her　happy；　and　after　the
　　　awfulness　of　the　past　year…'
　　'…we　didn't　see　what　harm　it　could　do。'
　　Spiritualism　was　not　what　Joe　had　expected。　He　was　uneasy　if　not　downright　disappointed。　He　had　thought　that　Dr。　Rose　Tucker　knew　what　had　really　happened　to　Flight　353　and　was　prepared　to　finger　those　responsible。　He　had　never　imagined　that　what　she　had　to　offer　was　merely　mysticism；　spiritual　counselling。
　　'Do　you　think　she　had　an　address　for　this　Rose；　a　telephone　number？'
　　Clarise　said；　'No。　I　don't　think　so。　Mom　was。　。　。　mysterious　about　it。'　To　her　husband；　she　said：　'Show　him　the　picture。'
　　'It's　still　in　her　bedroom；'　Bob　said；　rising　from　the　sofa。　'I'll　get　it。'
　　'What　picture？'　Joe　asked　Clarise　as　Bob　left　the　living　room。
　　'Strange。　It's　one　this　Rose　brought　to　Nora。　It's　kind　of　creepy；　but　Mom　took　fort　from　it。　It's　a　photo　of　Tom's　grave。'
　　
　　The　photograph　was　a　standard　colour　print　taken　with　a　Polaroid　camera。　The　shot　showed　the　headstone　at　Thomas　Lee　Vadance's　grave：　his　name；　the　dates　of　his　birth　and　death；　the　words　'cherished　husband　and　beloved　father。'
　　In　memory；　Joe　could　see　Rose　Marie　Tucker　in　the　cemetery：
　　I'm　not　ready　to　talk　to　you　yet。
　　Clarise　said；　'Mom　went　out　and　bought　the　frame。　She　wanted　to　keep　the　picture　behind　glass。　It　was　important　to　her　that　it　not　get　damaged。'
　　'While　we　were　staying　here　last　week；　three　full　days；　she　carried　it　with　her　everywhere；'　Bob　said。　'Cooking　in　the　kitchen；　sitting　in　the　family　room　watching　TV；　outside　on　the　patio　when　we　were　barbecuing；　always　with　her。'
　　'Even　when　we　went　out　to　dinner；'　Clarise　said。　'She　put　it　in　her　purse。'
　　'It's　just　a　photograph；'　Joe　said；　puzzled。
　　'Just　a　photograph；'　Bob　Vadance　agreed。　'She　could've　taken　it　herself…but　for　some　reason　it　meant　more　to　her　because　this　Rose　woman　had　taken　it。'
　　Joe　slid　a　finger　down　the　smooth　silver…plated　frame　and　across　the　glass；　as　if　he　were　clairvoyant　and　able　to　read　the　meaning　of　the　photograph　by　absorbing　a　lingering　psychic　energy　from　it。
　　'When　she　first　showed　it　to　us；'　said　Clarise；　'she　watched　us　with　such　。　。　。　expectation。　As　if　she　thought…'
　　'…we　would　have　a　bigger　reaction　to　it；'　Bob　concluded。
　　Putting　the　photograph　on　the　coffee　table；　Joe　frowned。　'Bigger　reaction？　Like　how？'
　　'We　couldn't　understand；'　Clarise　said。　She　picked　up　the　photo　and　began　to　polish　the　frame　and　glass　on　her　shirttail。　'When　we　didn't　respond　to　it　the　way　she　hoped；　then　she　asked　us　what　we　saw　when　we　looked　at　it。'
　　'A　gravestone；'　Joe　said。
　　'Dad's　grave；'　Bob　agreed。
　　Clarise　shook　her　head。　'Mom　seemed　to　see　more。'
　　'More？　Like　what？'
　　'She　wouldn't　say；　but　she…'
　　'…told　us　the　day　would　e　when　we　would　see　it　different；'　Bob　finished。
　　In　memory；　Rose　in　the　graveyard；　clutching　the　camera　in　two　hands；　looking　up　at　Joe：　You'll　see；　like　the　others；'Do　you　know　who　this　Rose　is？　Why　did　you　ask　us　about　her？'　Clarise　wondered。
　　Joe　told　them　about　meeting　the　woman　at　the　cemetery；　but　he　said　nothing　abou