|
We're in a Village bar. What do you mean, where am I? As for mybody, you know where you dumped the pieces of it as well as I.""That's why you're haunting me.""Absolutely not. Couldn't give less of a damn about that body.
Felt that way the moment I left it. You know all this!""No, no, I mean, what realm are you in now, what is it, where areyou, what did you see when you went. .. what.. .."He shook his head with the saddest smile.
"You know the answer to all that. I don't know where I am.
Something's waiting for me, however. I'm fairly certain of that.
Something's waiting. Perhaps it's merely dissolution. Darkness. But itseems personal. It's not going to wait forever. But I don't know how Iknow.
"And I don't know why I'm being allowed to get through to you,whether it's sheer will, my will, I mean, of which I have a great dealby the way, or whether it's some sort of grant of moments, I don'tknow! But I went after you-1 followed you from the flat and back to itand then out with the body and I came here and I have to talk to you.
I'm not going to go without a struggle, until I've spoken with you.""Something's waiting for you," I whispered. This was awe. Plainand simple. "And then, after we've had our chat, if you don't dissolve,where exactly are you going to go?"He shook his head and glared at the bottle on the center rack,flood of light, color, labels.
"Tiresome," he said crossly. "Shut up."It had a sting to it. Shut up. Telling me to shut up.
"I can't go looking out for your daughter," I said.
"What do you mean?" He threw an angry glance at me, and tookanother sip of his drink, then gestured to the bartender for another.
"Are you going to get drunk?" I asked.
"I don't think I can. You have to look out for her. It's all going togo public, don't you see? I have enemies who'll kill her, for no otherreason than that she was my child. You don't know how careful I'vebeen, and you don't know how rash she is, how much she believes inDivine Providence. And then there's the government, the hounds ofgovernment, and my things, my relics, my books!"I was fascinated. For about three seconds, I'd utterly forgottenthat he was a ghost. Now my eyes gave me no evidence of it. None.
But he was scentless, and the faint sound of life that emanated fromhim still had little to do with real lungs or a real heart.
"All right, let me be blunt," he said. "I'm afraid for her. She has toget through the notoriety; enough time has to pass that my enemiesforget about her. Most of them don't know about her. But somebodymight. Somebody's bound to know, if you knew.""Not necessarily. I'm not a human being.""You have to guard her.""I can't do such a thing. I won't""Lestat, will you listen to me?""I don't want to listen. I want you to go.""I know you do.""Look, I never meant to kill you, I'm sorry, it was all a mistake, Ishould have picked someone. ..." My hands were shaking. Oh, howfascinating all this would sound later, and right now I begged God, ofall people, please make this stop, all of it, stop.
"You know where I was born, don't you?" he asked. "You knowthat block of St. Charles near Jackson?"I nodded. "The boardinghouse," I said. "Don't tell me the storyof your life. There's no reason. Besides, it's over. You had yourchance to write it down when you were alive, just like anyone else.
What do you expect me to do with it?""I want to tell you the things that count. Look at me! Look at me,please, try to understand me and to love me and to love Dora for me!
I'm begging you."I didn't have to see his expression to understand this keen agony,this protective cry. Is there anything under God that can be done tous that will make us suffer as badly as seeing our child suffer? Ourloved ones? Those closest to us? Dora, tiny Dora walking in theempty convent. Dora on a television screen, arms flung out, singing.
I must have gasped. I don't know. Shivered. Something. I couldn'tclear iny head for a moment, but it was nothing supernatural, onlymisery, and the realization that he was there, palpable, visible,expecting something from me, that he had come across, that he hadsurvived long enough in this ephemeral form to demand a promiseof me.
"You do love me," he whispered. He looked serene and intrigued.
Way beyond flattery, Way beyond me.
"Passion," I whispered. "It was your passion.""Yes, I know. I'm flattered. I wasn't run down by a truck in thestreet, or shot by a hit man. You killed me! You, arid you must be oneof the best of them.""Best of what?""Whatever you call yourself. You're not human. Yet you are. Yousucked my blood out of my body, took it into your own. You'rethriving on it now. Surely you're not the only one." He looked away.
24/163 首页 上一页 22 23 24 25 26 27 下一页 尾页
|
