p&c.thunderhead-第6部分

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…and…toe　trail　leading　up　to　the　city。　He　documented　the　entire　trip。〃　
　Blakewood　sighed。　〃Now　I　understand　your　enthusiasm。　I　don't　mean　to　criticize　your　father；　but　he　wasn't　exactly　the　most　。　。　。〃　His　voice　trailed　off；　but　Nora　knew　the　next　word　was　going　to　be　reliable。　She　felt　a　prickling　sensation　move　up　her　spine。　Careful；　she　thought；　or　you　could　lose　your　job　right　here　and　now。　She　swallowed　hard。　
　Blakewood's　voice　dropped。　〃Nora；　were　you　aware　that　I　knew　your　father？〃　
　Nora　shook　her　head。　A　lot　of　people　had　known　her　father：　Santa　Fe　had　been　a　small　town；　at　least　for　archaeologists。　Pat　Kelly　always　had　an　uneasy　relationship　with　them；　sometimes　providing　valuable　information；　other　times　digging　ruins　himself。　
　〃In　many　ways　he　was　a　remarkable　man；　a　brilliant　man。　But　he　was　a　dreamer。　He　couldn't　have　been　less　interested　in　the　facts。〃　
　〃But　he　wrote　that　he　found　the　city…〃　
　〃You　said　he　found　a　prehistoric　hand…and…toe　trail；〃　Blakewood　broke　in。　〃Which　exist　by　the　thousands　in　canyon　country。　Did　he　write　that　he　actually　found　the　city　itself？〃　
　Nora　paused。　〃Not　exactly；　but…〃　
　〃Then　I've　said　all　I'm　going　to　say　on　this　expedition…and　on　your　tenure　review。〃　He　refolded　his　old　hands；　the　fine　pattern　of　wrinkles　almost　translucent　against　the　burnished　desktop。　〃Is　there　anything　else？〃　he　asked　more　gently。　
　〃No；〃　Nora　said。　〃Nothing　else。〃　She　swept　her　papers　into　the　portfolio；　spun　on　her　heels；　and　left。　
　
　
4
　
　NORA　SCANNED　THE　CLUTTERED　APARTMENT　with　dismay。　If　anything；　it　was　worse　than　she　remembered。　The　dirty　dishes　in　the　sink　looked　as　unwashed　as　when　she'd　seen　them　a　month　before；　tottering　so　precariously　that　no　additional　plates　could　be　added；　the　lower　strata　furred　in　green　mold。　Sink　full；　the　apartment's　occupant　had　apparently　taken　to　ordering　pizzas　and　Chinese　food　in　disposable　cartons：　a　tiny　pyramid　rose　from　the　wastebasket　and　trailed　onto　the　nearby　floor　like　a　bridal　veil。　A　flood　of　magazines　and　old　newspapers　lay　on　and　around　the　scuffed　furniture。　Pink　Floyd's　〃fortably　Numb〃　played　from　speakers　barely　visible　behind　piles　of　socks　and　dirty　sweatshirts。　On　one　shelf　stood　a　neglected　goldfish　bowl；　its　water　a　murky　brown。　Nora　glanced　away；　unwilling　to　look　too　closely　at　the　bowl's　occupants。　
　There　was　a　cough　and　a　sniff　from　the　apartment's　inhabitant。　Her　brother；　Skip；　slouched　on　the　deposing　orange　couch；　propped　his　dirty　bare　feet　up　on　a　nearby　table　and　looked　over　at　her。　He　still　had　little　bronze　curls　across　his　forehead　and　a　smooth；　adolescent　face。　He'd　be　very　handsome；　Nora　thought；　if　it　weren't　for　the　petulant；　immature　look　to　his　face；　his　dirty　clothes。　It　was　hard…painful；　really…to　think　of　him　as　grown　up；　his　physics　degree　from　Stanford　barely　a　year　old；　and　doing　absolutely　nothing。　Surely　it　was　just　last　week　she'd　been　babysitting　this　wild；　happy…go…lucky　kid　with　a　brilliant　knack　for　driving　her　crazy。　He　didn't　drive　her　crazy　anymore…just　worried。　Sometime　after　their　mother's　death　six　months　ago；　he'd　switched　from　beer　to　tequila；　half　a　dozen　empty　bottles　lay　scattered　around　the　floor。　Now　he　drained　a　fresh　bottle　into　a　mason　jar；　a　sullen　look　on　his　inflamed　face。　A　small　yellow　worm　dropped　from　the　upended　bottle　into　the　glass。　Skip　picked　it　out　and　tossed　it　into　an　ashtray；　where　several　other　similar　worms　lay；　shriveled　now　to　husks　as　the　alcohol　had　evaporated。　
　〃That's　disgusting；〃　Nora　said。　
　〃I'm　sorry　you　don't　value　my　collection　of　Nadomonas　sonoraii；〃　Skip　replied。　〃If　I'd　appreciated　the　benefits　of　invertebrate　biology　earlier；　I'd　never　have　majored　in　physics。〃　He　reached　over　to　the　table；　pulled　open　its　drawer；　and　removed　a　long；　flat　sheet　of　plywood；　handing　it　to　Nora　with　a　sniff。　One　side　of　the　board　had　been　set　up　in　imitation　of　a　lepidopterist's　collection。　But　instead　of　butterflies；　Nora　saw　thirty　or　forty　mescal　worms；　pinned　to　its　surface　like　oversized　brown　mas。　Wordlessly；　she　handed　it　back。　
　〃I　see　you've　done　some　interior　decorating　since　the　last　time　I　came　by；〃　Nora　said。　〃For　example；　that　crack　is　new。〃　She　nodded　at　a　huge　gash　that　traveled　from　floor　to　ceiling　along　one　wall；　exposing　ribs　of　plaster　and　lath。　
　〃My　neighbor's　foot；〃　Skip　said。　〃He　doesn't　like　my　taste　in　music；　the　philistine。　You　ought　to　bring　your　oboe　over　sometime；　make　him　really　mad。　So　anyway；　what　made　you　change　your　mind　so　fast？　I　thought　you　were　going　to　hold　on　to　that　old　ranch　until　hell　froze　over。〃　He　took　a　long　sip　from　the　mason　jar。　
　〃Something　happened　there　last　night。〃　She　reached　over　to　turn　down　the　music。　
　〃Oh　yeah？〃　Skip　asked；　looking　vaguely　interested。　〃Some　kids　trash　the　place　or　something？〃　
　Nora　looked　at　him　steadily。　〃I　was　attacked。〃　
　The　sullen　look　vanished　and　Skip　sat　up。　〃What？　By　who？〃　
　〃People　dressed　up　as　animals；　I　think。　I'm　not　sure。〃　
　〃They　attacked　you？　Are　you　all　right？〃　His　face　flushed　with　anger　and　concern。　Even　though　he　was　the　younger　brother；　resentful　of　her　interference　and　ready　to　take　offense；　Skip　was　instinctively　protective。　
　〃Teresa　and　her　shotgun　came　along。　Except　for　this　scratch　on　my　arm；　I'm　fine。〃　
　Skip　slouched　back；　the　energy　gone　as　quickly　as　it　had　arrived。　〃Did　she　drill　the　bastards　with　lead？〃　
　〃No。　They　got　away。〃　
　〃Too　bad。　Did　you　call　the　cops？〃　
　〃Nope。　What　could　I　say？　If　Teresa　didn't　believe　me；　they　certainly　wouldn't。　They'd　think　I　was　nuts。〃　
　〃Just　as　well；　I　guess。〃　Skip　had　always　distrusted　policemen。　〃What　do　you　suppose　they　wanted？〃　
　Nora　didn't　reply　immediately。　Even　as　she'd　knocked　on　his　door；　she'd　still　been　debating　whether　or　not　to　tell　him　about　the　letter。　The　fear　of　that　night；　the　shock　of　the　letter；　remained　with　her　constantly。　How　would　he　react？　
　〃They　wanted　a　letter；〃　she　said　at　last。　
　〃What　kind　of　letter？〃　
　〃I　think　it　was　this　one。〃　Carefully；　she　pulled　the　yellowed　envelope　from　her　breast　pocket　and　laid　it　on　the　table。　Skip　bent　over　it；　and　then　with　a　sharp　exhalation　picked　it　up。　He　read　in　silence。　Nora　could　hear　the　clock　ticking　in　the　kitchen；　the　faint　sound　of　a　car　horn；　the　rustle　of　something　moving　in　the　sink。　She　could　also　feel　her　own　heart　pounding。　
　Skip　laid　the　letter　down。　〃Where　did　you　find　this？〃　he　asked；　eyes　and　fingers　still　on　the　envelope。　
　〃It　was　near　our　old　mailbox。　Mailed　five　weeks　ago。　They　put　up　new　mailboxes　but　our　address　wasn't　included；　so　I　guess　the　mailman　just　stuck　it　in　the　old　box。〃　
　Skip　turned　his　face　to　her。　〃Oh；　my　God；〃　he　said　weakly；　eyes　filling　with　tears。　
　Nora　felt　a　pang：　this　was　what　she'd　been　afraid　of。　It　was　a　burden　he　didn't　need　right　now。　〃I　can't　explain　it。　Somebody　found　it　somewhere；　maybe；　and　dropped　it　in　the　mail。〃　
　〃But　whoever　found　it　would　also　have　found　Dad's　body…〃　Skip　swallowed　and　wiped　his　face。　〃You　think　he's　alive？〃　
　〃No。　Not　a　chance。　He　would　never　have　abandoned　us　if　he　were　alive。　He　loved　us；　Skip。〃　
　〃But　this　letter…〃　
　〃Was　written　sixteen　years　ago。　Skip；　he's　dead。　We　have　to　face　that。　But　at　least　now　we　have　a　clue　to　where　he　might　have　died。　Maybe　we　can　find　out　what　happened　to　him。〃　
　Skip　had　kept　his　fingers　pressed　to　the　envelope；　as　if　unwilling　to　relinquish　this　unexpected　new　conduit　to　his　father。　But　at　these　last　words；　he　suddenly　removed　his　hand　and　leaned　back　on　the　couch。　〃These　guys　who　wanted　the　letter；〃　he　said。　〃Why　didn't　they　look　in　the　mailbox？〃　
　〃I　actually　found　it　in　the　sand。　I　think　it　might　have　blown　out…the　mailbox　door　was　missing。　And　those　old　boxes　looked　like　they　hadn't　been　used　for　years。　But　I　really　don't　know　for　sure。　I　kind　of　knocked　them　down　with　my　truck。〃　
　Skip　glanced　back　at　the　envelope。　〃If　they　knew　about　the　farmhouse；　you　suppose　they　also　know　where　we　live？〃　
　〃I'm　trying　not　to　think　about　that；〃　Nora　replied。　But　she　was。　Constantly。　
　Skip；　more　posed　now；　finished　the　last　of　his　drink。　〃How　the　hell　did　they　find　out　about　this　letter？〃　
　〃Who　knows？　Lots　of　people　have　heard　the　legends　of　Quivira。　And　Dad　had　some　pretty　unsavory　contacts…〃　
　〃So　Mom　said；〃　he　interrupted。　〃What　are　you　planning　to　do？〃　
　〃I　figured…〃　Nora　paused。　This　was　going　to　be　the　hard　part。　〃I　figured　the　way　to　find　out　what　happened　to　him　would　be　to　find　Quivira。　And　that　will　take　money。　Which　is　why　I　want　to　put　Las　Cabrillas　on　the　market。〃　
　Skip　shook　his　head　and　gave　a　wet　laugh。　〃Jesus；　Nora。　Here　I've　been　living　in　this　shithole；　with　no　money；　begging　you　to　sell　that　place　so　I　could　get　my　feet　on　the　ground。　And　now　you　want　to　blow　what　nest　egg　we've　got　looking　for　Dad。　Even　though　he's　dead。〃　
　〃Skip；　you　could　always　get　your　feet　on　the　ground　by　finding　a　job　…〃　Nora　began；　then　stopped。　This　wasn't　why　she　came　here。　He　sat　on　the　sofa；　shoulders　hunched；　and　Nora　found　her　heart　melting。　〃Skip；　it　would　mean　a　lot　to　me　to　know　what　happened　to　Dad。〃　
　〃Look；　go　ahead　and　sell　the　place。　I've　been　saying　that　for　years。　But　don't　use　my　share　of　the　money。　I've　got　other　plans。〃　
　〃To　mount　an　archaeological