cb.booksofblood-第14部分

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d　still　the　cow…like　eyes　turned　up　accusingly　at　Redman；　big　and　brown。　He　looked　younger　than　his　sixteen　years；　almost　prepubescent。　There　was　a　whisper　of　bum…fluff　on　his　cheek　and　a　few　spots　amongst　the　bruises　and　a　badly…applied　dressing　across　his　nose。　But　quite　a　girlish　face；　a　virgin's　face；　from　an　age　when　there　were　still　virgins。　And　still　the　eyes。
　　Leverthal　had　appeared；　too　late　to　be　of　use。
　　〃What's　going　on？〃　The　warder　piped　up。　The　chase　had　taken　his　breath；　and　his　temper。
　　〃He　locked　himself　in　the　lavatories。　Tried　to　get　out　through　the　window。〃
　　〃Why？〃　The　question　was　addressed　to　the　warder；　not　to　the　child。　A　telling　confusion。　The　warder；　confounded；　shrugged。
　　〃Why？〃　Redman　repeated　the　question　to　Lacey。　The　boy　just　stared；　as　though　he'd　never　been　asked　a　question　before。
　　〃You　the　pig？〃　he　said　suddenly；　snot　running　from　his　nose。
　　〃Pig？〃
　　〃He　means　policeman；〃　said　one　of　the　boys。　The　noun　was　spoken　with　a　mocking　precision；　as　though　he　was　addressing　an　imbecile。
　　〃I　know　what　he　means；　lad；〃　said　Redman；　still　determined　to　out…stare　Lacey；　〃I　know　very　well　what　he　means。〃
　　〃Are　you？〃
　　〃Be　quiet；　Lacey；〃　said　Leverthal；　〃you're　in　enough　trouble　as　it　is。〃
　　〃Yes；　son。　I'm　the　pig。〃　The　war　of　looks　went　on；　a　private　battle　between　boy　and　man。
　　〃You　don't　know　nothing；〃　said　Lacey。　It　wasn't　a　snide　remark；　the　boy　was　simply　telling　his　version　of　the　truth；　his　gaze　didn't　flicker。
　　〃All　right；　Lacey；　that's　enough。〃　The　warder　was　trying　to　haul　him　away；　his　belly　stuck　out　between　pyjama　top　and　bottom；　a　smooth　dome　of　milk　skin。
　　〃Let　him　speak；〃　said　Redman。　〃What　don't　I　know？〃
　　〃He　can　give　his　side　of　the　story　to　the　Governor；〃　said　Leverthal　before　Lacey　could　reply。　〃It's　not　your　concern。〃　But　it　was　very　much　his　concern。　The　stare　made　it　his　concern；　so　cutting；　so　damned。　The　stare　demanded　that　it　bee　his　concern。
　　〃Let　him　speak；〃　said　Redman；　the　authority　in　his　voice　overriding　Leverthal。　The　warder　loosened　his　hold　just　a　little。
　　〃Why　did　you　try　and　escape；　Lacey？〃　〃Cause　he　came　back。〃
　　〃Who　came　back？　A　name；　Lacey。　Who　are　you　talking　about？〃　For　several　seconds　Redman　sensed　the　boy　fighting　a　pact　with　silence；　then　Lacey　shook　his　head；　breaking　the　electric　exchange　between　them。　He　seemed　to　lose　his　way　somewhere；　a　kind　of　puzzlement　gagged　him。
　　〃No　harm's　going　to　e　to　you。〃　Lacey　stared　at　his　feet；　frowning。　〃I　want　to　go　back　to　bed　now；〃　he　said。　A　virgin's　request。
　　〃No　harm；　Lacey。　I　promise。〃　The　promise　seemed　to　have　precious　little　effect；　Lacey　was　struck　dumb。　But　it　was　a　promise　nevertheless；　and　he　hoped　Lacey　realised　that。　The　kid　looked　exhausted　by　the　effort　of　his　failed　escape；　of　the　pursuit；　of　staring。　His　face　was　ashen。　He　let　the　warder　turn　him　and　take　him　back。　Before　he　rounded　the　corner　again；　he　seemed　to　change　his　mind；　he　struggled　to　loose　himself；　failed；　but　managed　to　twist　himself　round　to　face　his　interrogator。
　　〃Henessey；〃　he　said；　meeting　Redman's　eyes　once　more。　That　was　all。　He　was　shunted　out　of　sight　before　he　could　say　anything　more。
　　〃Henessey？〃　said　Redman；　feeling　like　a　stranger　suddenly。
　　〃Who's　Henessey？〃　Leverthal　was　lighting　a　cigarette。　Her　hands　were　shaking　ever　so　slightly　as　she　did　it。　He　hadn't　noticed　that　yesterday；　but　he　wasn't　surprised。　He'd　yet　to　meet　a　head　shrinker　who　didn't　have　problems　of　their　own。
　　〃The　boy's　lying；〃　she　said；　〃Henessey's　no　longer　with　us。〃　A　little　pause。　Redman　didn't　prompt；　it　would　only　make　her　jumpy。
　　〃Lacey's　clever；〃　she　went　on；　putting　the　cigarette　to　her　colourless　lips。　〃He　knows　just　the　spot。〃
　　〃Eh？〃
　　〃You're　new　here；　and　he　wants　to　give　you　the　impression　that　he's　got　a　mystery　all　of　his　own。〃
　　〃It　isn't　a　mystery　then？〃
　　〃Henessey？〃　she　snorted。　〃Good　God　no。　He　escaped　custody　in　early　May。　He　and　Lacey　。　。　。〃　She　hesitated；　without　wanting　to。　〃He　and　Lacey　had　something　between　them。　Drugs　perhaps；　we　never　found　out。　Glue…sniffing；　mutual　masturbation；　God　knows　what。〃　She　really　did　find　the　whole　subject　unpleasant。　Distaste　was　written　over　her　face　in　a　dozen　tight　places。
　　〃How　did　Henessey　escape？〃
　　〃We　still　don't　know；〃　she　said。　〃He　just　didn't　turn　up　for　roll…call　one　morning。　The　place　was　searched　from　top　to　bottom。　But　he'd　gone。〃
　　〃Is　it　possible　he'd　e　back？〃　A　genuine　laugh。
　　〃Jesus　no。　He　hated　the　place。　Besides；　how　could　he　get　in？〃
　　〃He　got　out。〃　Leverthal　conceded　the　point　with　a　murmur。　〃He　wasn't　especially　bright；　but　he　was　cunning。　I　wasn't　altogether　surprised　when　he　went　missing。　The　few　weeks　before　his　escape　he'd　really　sunk　into　himself。　I　couldn't　get　anything　out　of　him；　and　up　until　then　he'd　been　quite　talkative。〃
　　〃And　Lacey？〃
　　〃Under　his　thumb。　It　often　happens。　Younger　boy　idolizes　an　older；　more　experienced　individual。　Lacey　had　a　very　unsettled　family　background。〃　Neat；　thought　Redman。　So　neat　he　didn't　believe　a　word　of　it。　Minds　weren't　pictures　at　an　exhibition；　all　numbered；　and　hung　in　order　of　influence；　one　marked　〃Cunning〃；　the　next；　〃Impressionable〃。　They　were　scrawls；　they　were　sprawling　splashes　of　graffiti；　unpredictable；　unconfinable。
　　And　little　boy　Lacey？　He　was　written　on　water。
　　
　　Classes　began　the　next　day；　in　a　heat　so　oppressive　it　turned　the　workshop　into　an　oven　by　eleven。　But　the　boys　responded　quickly　to　Redman's　straight　dealing。　They　recognized　in　him　a　man　they　could　respect　without　liking。　They　expected　no　favours；　and　received　none。　It　was　a　stable　arrangement。
　　Redman　found　the　staff　on　the　whole　less　municative　than　the　boys。　An　odd…ball　bunch；　all　in　all。　Not　a　strong　heart　amongst　them　he　decided。　The　routine　of　Tetherdowne；　its　rituals　of　classification；　of　humiliation；　seemed　to　grind　them　into　a　mon　gravel。　Increasingly　he　found　himself　avoiding　conversation　with　his　peers。　The　workshop　became　a　sanctuary；　a　home　from　home；　smelling　of　newly　cut　wood　and　bodies。
　　It　was　not　until　the　following　Monday　that　one　of　the　boys　mentioned　the　farm。
　　Nobody　had　told　him　there　was　a　farm　in　the　grounds　of　the　Centre；　and　the　idea　struck　Redman　as　absurd。
　　〃Nobody　much　goes　down　there；〃　said　Creeley；　one　of　the　worst　woodworkers　on　God's　earth。　〃It　stinks。〃　General　laughter。
　　〃All　right；　lads；　settle　down。〃　The　laughter　subsided；　laced　with　a　few　whispered　jibes。
　　〃Where　is　this　farm；　Creeley？〃
　　〃It's　not　even　a　farm　really；　sir；〃　said　Creeley；　chewing　his　tongue　（an　incessant　routine）。　〃It's　just　a　few　huts。　Stink；　they　do　sir。　Especially　now。〃　He　pointed　out　of　the　window　to　the　wilderness　beyond　the　playing　field。　Since　he'd　last　looked　out　at　the　sight；　that　first　day　with　Leverthal；　the　wasteland　had　ripened　in　the　sweaty　heat；　ranker　with　weeds　than　ever。　Creeley　pointed　out　a　distant　brick　wall；　all　but　hidden　behind　a　shield　of　shrubs。
　　〃See　it；　sir？〃
　　〃Yes；　I　see　it。〃
　　〃That's　the　sty；　sir。〃　Another　round　of　sniggers。
　　〃What's　so　funny？〃　he　wheeled　on　the　class。　A　dozen　heads　snapped　down　to　their　work。
　　〃I　wouldn't　go　down　there　sir。　It's　high　as　a　fucking　kite。〃
　　
　　Creeley　wasn't　exaggerating。　Even　in　the　relative　cool　of　the　late　afternoon　the　smell　wafting　off　the　farm　was　stomach　turning。　Redman　just　followed　his　nose　across　the　field　and　past　the　out…houses。　The　buildings　he　glimpsed　from　the　workshop　window　were　ing　out　of　hiding。　A　few　ramshackle　huts　thrown　up　out　of　corrugated　iron　and　rotting　wood；　a　chicken　run；　and　the　brick…built　sty　were　all　the　farm　could　offer。　As　Creeley　had　said；　it　wasn't　really　a　farm　at　all。　It　was　a　tiny　domesticated　Dachau；　filthy　and　forlorn。　Somebody　obviously　fed　the　few　prisoners：　the　hens；　the　half　dozen　geese；　the　pigs；　but　nobody　seemed　bothered　to　clean　them　out。　Hence　that　rotten　smell。　The　pigs　particularly　were　living　in　a　bed　of　their　own　ordure；　islands　of　dung　cooked　to　perfection　in　the　sun；　peopled　with　thousands　of　flies。
　　The　sty　itself　was　divided　into　two　separate　partments；　divided　by　a　high　brick　wall。　In　the　forecourt　of　one　a　small；　mottled　pig　lay　on　its　side　in　the　filth；　its　flank　alive　with　ticks　and　bugs。　Another；　smaller；　pig　could　be　glimpsed　in　the　gloom　of　the　interior；　lying　on　shit…thick　straw。　Neither　showed　any　interest　in　Redman。
　　The　other　partment　seemed　empty。
　　There　was　no　excrement　in　the　forecourt；　and　far　fewer　flies　amongst　the　straw。　The　accumulated　smell　of　old　faecal　matter　was　no　less　acute；　however；　and　Redman　was　about　to　turn　away　when　there　was　a　noise　from　inside；　and　a　great　bulk　righted　itself。　He　leaned　over　the　padlocked　wooden　gate；　blotting　out　the　stench　by　an　act　of　will；　and　peered　through　the　doorway　of　the　sty。
　　The　pig　came　out　to　look　at　him。　It　was　three　times　the　size　of　its　panions；　a　vast　sow　that　might　well　have　mothered　the　pigs　in　the　adjacent　pen。　But　where　her　farrows　were　filthy…flanked；　the　sow　was　pristine；　her　blushing　pink　frame　radiant　with　good　health。　Her　sheer　size　impressed　Redman。　She　must　have　weighed　twice　what　he　weighed；　he　guessed：　an　altogether　formidable　creature。　A　glamorous　animal　in　her　gross　way；　with　her　curling　blonde　lashes　and　the　delicate　down　on　her　shiny　snout　that　coarsened　to　bristles　around　her　lolling　ears；　and　the　oily；　fetching　look　in　her　dark　brown　eyes。
　　Redman；　a　city　boy；　had　seldom　seen　the　living　truth　behind；　or　previous　to；　the　meat　on　his　plate。　This　wonderful　porker　came　as　a　revelation。　The　bad　press　that　he'd　always　believed　about　pigs；　the　reputation　that　made　the　very　name　a　synonym　for　foulness；　all　that　was　given　the　lie。
　　The　sow　was　beautiful；　from　her　snuffling　snout　to　the　delicate　corkscrew　of　her　tail；　a　seductress　on　trotters。
　　Her　eyes　regarded　Redman　as　an　equal；　he　had　no　doubt　of　that；　admiring　him　rather　less　than　he　admired　her。
　　She　was　safe　in　her　head；　he　in　his。　They　were　equal　under　a　glittering　sky。
　　Close　to；　her　body　smelt　sweet。　Somebody　had　clearly　been　there　that　very　morning；　sluicing　her　down；　and　feeding　her。　Her　trough；　Redman　now　noticed；　still　brimmed　with　a　mush　of　slops；　the　remains　of　yesterday's　meal。　She　hadn't　touched　it；　she　was　no　glutton。
　　Soon　she　seemed　to　have　the　sum　of　him；　and　grunting　quietly　she　turned　around　on　her　nimble　feet　and　returned　to　the　cool　of　the　interior。　The　audience　was　over。
　　
　　That　night　he　went　to　find　Lacey。　The　boy　had　been　removed　from　the　Hospital　Unit　and　put　in　a　shabby　room　of　his　own。　He　was　apparently　still　being　bullied　by　the　other　boys　in　his　dormitory；　and　the　alternative　was　this　solitary　confinement。　Redman　found　him　sitting　on　a　carpet　of　old　ic　books；　staring　at　the　wall。　The　lurid　covers　of　the　ics　made　his　face　look　milkier　than　ever。　The　bandage　had　gone　from　his　nose；　and　the　bruise　on　the　bridge　was　yellowing。
　　He　shook　Lacey's　hand；　and　the　boy　gazed　up　at　him。　There　was　a　real　turn　about　since　their　last　meeting。　Lacey　was　calm；　even　docile。　The　handshake；　a　ritual　Redman　had　introduced　whenever　he　met　boys　out　of　the　workshop；　was　weak。
　　〃Are　you　well？〃　The　boy　nodded。
　　〃Do　you　like　being　alone？〃
　　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　　〃You'll