第52部分 (第1/7页)

The　mallet　expressed　that　perfectly。　A　soft　end　and　a　hard　end。　A　game　of

finesse　and　aim；　and　a　game　of　raw；　bludgeoning　power。

He　swung　the　mallet　through　the　air　。。。　whhhoooop。　He　smiled　a　little　at　the

powerful；　whistling　sound　it　made。　Then　he　replaced　it　in　the　rack　and　turned　to

his　left。　What　he　saw　there　made　him　frown　again。

The　snowmobile　sat　almost　in　the　middle　of　the　equipment　shed；　a　fairly　new

one；　and　Jack　didn't　care　for　its　looks　at　all。　Bombardier　Skidoo　was　written　on

the　side　of　the　engine　cowling　facing　him　in　black　letters　which　had　been　raked

backward；　presumably　to　connote　speed。　The　protruding　skis　were　also　black。

There　was　black　piping　to　the　right　and　left　of　the　cowling；　what　they　would

call　racing　stripes　on　a　sports　car。　But　the　actual　paintjob　was　a　bright；

sneering　yellow；　and　that　was　what　he　didn't　like　about　it。　Sitting　there　in　its

shaft　of　morning　sun；　yellow　body　and　black　piping；　black　skis　and　black

upholstered　open　cockpit；　it　looked　like　a　monstrous　mechanized　wasp。　When　it

was　running　it　would　sound　like　that　too。　Whining　and　buzzing　and　ready　to

sting。　But　then；　what　else　should　it　look　like？　It　wasn't　flying　under　false

colors；　at　least。　Because　after　it　had　done　its　job；　they　were　going　to　be

hurting　plenty。　All　of　them。　By　spring　the　Torrance　family　would　be　hurting　so

badly　that　what　those　wasps　had　done　to　Danny's　hand　would　look　like　a　mother's

kisses。

He　pulled　his　handkerchief　from　his　back　pocket；　wiped　his　mouth　with　it；　and

walked　over　to　the　Skidoo。　He　stood　looking　down　at　it；　the　frown　very　deep　now；

and　stuffed　his　handkerchief　back　into　his　pocket。　Outs